They Persisted.
Capturing moments of the growing resistance.
It’s exciting to see the passion and conviction that drives people to speak up about injustices to themselves or others. Whether its the silent protest of taking yourself out of a situation — such as the upcoming Day Without Women — or physically showing up, holding signs, chanting, marching or even blocking doorways, they all speak volumes. The first protest I ever photographed was in 2002 while I was attending college in Philadelphia. It was the year after the September 11th attacks and tensions were running high about the invasion of Afghanistan. Although it was just a small group of people who had convened next to City Hall, I grabbed my camera and aimed to capture the emotion and energy in the crowd.
It would be a long time before I became a protester myself. The Women’s March in San Diego this past January popped my protesting cherry. It coincided with the Women’s March on Washington, and numerous other marches around the world in protest of the harmful policies of the new administration and in support of all of the people that still do not have equal rights, or whose rights are now being threatened. I decided to leave my two year old daughter at home in case things went sideways, but was pleasantly surprised when whole families turned out to what would definitely be described as a very peaceful event. There was definitely a sense of frustration and even anger at times, but the comradery of marching together for common causes overshadowed the depression lingering in the air from Inauguration day.
The Women’s March in San Diego this past January popped my protesting cherry.
On my recent trip to San Francisco, I happened upon a small crowd protesting the Dakota Access pipeline. I was more of an observer than a participant. They weren’t at a city hall or out in the street, I found them as I was biking near the water. I wouldn’t have even known they were there if it hadn’t been for the rhythmic drumming I heard as I passed by. I promptly turned around and headed down a dirt path until I reached a clearing where a relatively small group was singing and chanting. It was obvious from the signs they hoisted above their heads that it was in protest of the pipeline — Just one more tragic betrayal the US Government has gifted the Sioux. The mood was somber as they stood in solidarity with Standing Rock and I almost felt like an intruder on an intimate family moment.
The people I’ve encountered and photographed at these events inspire me to keep on keeping on.
The people I’ve encountered and photographed at these events inspire me to keep on keeping on. The year is still young and the 45th president has only been in office a short time, so this is only the beginning of the resistance. I will continue to participate and document acts of protest, small and large, and invite you to follow me on my journey.
***Feel free to use any of my photos for your stories. Just make sure to give me a heads up and credit me. Thanks!***
