Over the last decade, I’ve covered a lot of protests and political conflicts, ranging from large mainstream demonstrations (e.g. the Women’s March) to more extreme brawls between activists, police, and agitators.
In Sacramento, I watched anti-fascists in black smashing the vehicles of MAGA supporters and beating up Proud Boys, all while pursued by police. In Oakland, I was nearly grabbed by riot cops while documenting the George Floyd uprising. In Los Angeles, I was battered by LAPD officers who tried to take my camera as I documented them battering people around me.
This is all to say that I have built up my instincts in navigating sketchy fights on the street, especially between civilian protesters and law enforcement.
But all that instinct means very little when authority figures have no clue what they’re supposed to be doing — which is exactly what happened on Wednesday, when I was sprayed in the eyeballs by an ICE officer and left clutching my face for half an hour.
As we’ve seen all around the country, the enforcement from ICE, Department of Homeland Security, and Customs and Border Patrol has been both exceedingly violent and completely slapdash. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to who gets nabbed — citizens and immigrants alike have been brutalized and disappeared by federal enforcers, with no transparency and what seems to be zero consequence. Some officers seem particularly keen on targeting those who track or document their atrocities.
Three months of observing ICE activity around San Francisco have proven to me that this disordered approach is basically by design. With multiple federal agencies and sub-groups on the ground, protests routinely devolve into chaos with no chain of command; officers seem to individually pick and choose where they’re supposed to be and who they’re bashing.
It has created seriously unpredictable conditions for anyone participating in protest — and whether intended or not, each assault by a federal official on a protester feels like an act of erasure, fueled by a hope that said protester will no longer hit the streets. Surely, some agents truly believe that brutality will chill anti-ICE fever.
On Wednesday, I watched a few enforcement agents show a milder approach, keeping protesters at bay with an outstretched hand or using their bodies to block attempts to stop federal vehicles from leaving the scene near 100 Montgomery St. Still, more agents seemed intent on cracking down, especially against protesters who confronted them verbally in the streets. I watched multiple people get tackled and struck in the head and neck area; one young man near me was pinned against a parked car by an ICE agent, who grabbed him by the collar and threatened to cuff him.
My instinct to spot danger in a protest scene felt as strong as ever as the action unfolded around me. My eyes darted between officers, scanning where their hands and weapons were. I kept track of assaults around me. I wedged myself in the fight to record footage, but made sure to hold up my press badge and show a calm demeanor, even while telling officers to keep their hands off me.
Naturally, I got attacked during the quietest part of the protest. Go figure.
After I was pepper-sprayed, I soon learned that a US citizen and activist, Angelica Guerrero, had been tackled and arrested outside of ICE HQ at 630 Sansome St. Nobody knew where she was; it turned out she had been shuttled around multiple holding facilities, with no phone call or lawyer offered. Guerrero, who was finally released on Thursday after 24 hours behind bars, told ABC7 about the “confusion” among the authorities who had arrested her.
If federal officials think that these actions are chilling the resistance, it seems like a strategy doomed to fail. The treatment of Angelina, as well as the viral news of the attack on myself and a cyclist protester, has led to a new wave of energized calls to confront and fight ICE.
The tactics of said fight continue to shift. Without giving positive credit to PD, the mayhem of ICE action this summer stands in contrast to what I’ve seen in past protests where police officers moved in formation, gave clear warnings, and had a clear chain of command. Meanwhile, federal officers seem content with disarray, even when it leaves many of them — including the agent who sprayed me — visibly paranoid, fearful, and enraged.
Instincts matter, but obviously, I’ve learned what needs to change on my end as I plan to return to ICE action next week. Proper equipment, such as goggles and even respirators, are becoming essential as officers deploy pepper balls and pepper spray with abandon. Carrying saline or bottled water is even more important; I can’t imagine what I would have done without bystanders giving me bottle after bottle to rinse my face. Another person even offered me a slice of lemon to soothe the burn of inhaled pepper spray.
No tool is as important as vigilance, but the violence this week proved that people, including myself, need to adapt our expectations, no matter how much experience one has on the front lines of protest. Federal enforcers are unpredictable, but it’s motivating protesters to evolve, one assault at a time.
