Friday Night Out: Protest Edition

I woke up to news of another violent protest night. This time, a 15-year-old boy had been brutally beaten. I don’t like protests — not the shouting, not the chaos, not the crowds. But that day, I left the house in sneakers (no laces), pants, and a T-shirt that read: “Believe in yourself and aliens.” Just in case I ended up there. A friend called, asked me to bring water, and told me where the crowd was heading. So I followed — past blocked streets, burning dumpsters, and quiet bars just a corner away from unrest. Parallel worlds. These photos carry moments from the edges — and one step inside — the protest. I took them while carrying two bags of water — running at one point, freezing at another. And I brought the water. A Friday night out, for protest.