When I look in the mirror, I see the scar above my eyebrow from a police baton, one eye squints a little more than the other from the several times I’ve been maced, and my hair is slowly frosting from decades of street-level protesting. My relationship with activism is the longest relationship I’ve ever had, and as time marches on, so do I; boots on the pavement, fist to the sky.
The first time I went to a protest, I showed up looking like a tourist at a political Warped Tour.
Black skinny jeans, black band tee, black Vans, long hair in my face, and a plucky can-do attitude. I didn’t know what a legal observer was, didn’t know the difference between a kettle and a barricade, and definitely didn’t know what to do when a line of riot cops suddenly marched in unannounced just like the movies.
That was a long long time ago. Since then, I’ve marched, screamed, chanted, linked arms, dodged tear gas (unsuccessfully), and, more importantly, learned how to take care of myself and the people around me. So if this is your first protest, or your first time going in some time, let me share what I’ve learned the hard, sweaty, smoky, adrenaline-addled way.
Because being part of a movement is beyond powerful, but staying safe while doing it is what helps us come back stronger each and every time.
Dress to Impress: A Ghost with a Purpose
In a crowd, what you wear can mean the difference between blending in and ending up on someone’s facial recognition list, and subsequently, the asphalt. I always dress in dark, solid colors; black, navy, and charcoal gray will never do you dirty. Not because I want to look like that eager 17 year old kid with a Hot Topic gift card, but because it makes me harder to identify in photos. I typically forgo the logos, slogans, and unique fashion choices. That ironic “EAT THE RICH” Etsy tee might get me more likes on Instagram, but in a protest photo, it’s no different than a name tag. Dress to be invisible and let your voice do the talking, not your outfit.
I wear a mask. Every. Single. Time. Even before COVID, seasoned protesters masked up. Not only does it protect against airborne pathogens (both viral and chemical), it shields your face from most surveillance equipment. Big cheap sunglasses help too. And as a bonus, if things get out of hand, you don’t want your face immortalized while sobbing from pepper spray on the evening news.
Footwear is no joke and not something I take lightly. Absolutely no flip-flops. Heels are also a non-starter. No fashion boots either. I wear boots I can run, pivot, and stomp in if I have to. Usually steel toe or lightweight composite capped boots. If I wouldn’t wear them on a hike or to haul furniture, I wouldn’t wear them in a crowd marching through the streets.
Layers are key, even in the summertime. Protests can start in sunny weather and end in cold rain, or vice versa. I’ve stood in 90-degree heat that turned into a thunderstorm right before cops rolled up with pepper cannons, and it’s always a good idea to be prepared for worst-case scenarios. I always plan for weather and chaos. Plus, layers let you change your appearance if you need to slip away from a risky area unnoticed. It costs a lot less to hit up Goodwill the week before a rally and pick up some cheap clothes you can discard in a pinch than it does to be tracked down and detained.
The Protest Go-Bag Starter Pack
It may be an unpopular opinion, but you don’t need to bring a whole tactical rig. It’s trendy to wear military adjacent tactical gear and that’s fine if you want to dress to impress in the streets, but you definitely don’t need to pack hundreds of dollars worth of equipment to get the job done. In fact, less is more in my opinion. But what you do bring should be intentional. I want you to say it with me: intention to details.
First and most importantly: I always write the legal support hotline on my leg in Sharpie. I write it on my leg because real estate on my arms is non-existent and I know it won’t rub off from sweat on my shin or thigh. Usually, this is a number from the National Lawyers Guild, my personal attorney, or another local group doing jail support. If I get detained, my phone might be dead or confiscated. My legs? Always on me.
I also always bring my own water source, and in a collapsible bottle if I can. Hard bottles made of stainless steel or aluminum can be confiscated or used as a pretext for claiming you’re carrying a weapon. I’ve seen it happen and you really don’t want your $40 Yeti mug taken from you on a hot summer day while marching. I also bring a snack, usually something with protein like a granola bar, nuts, trail mix, whatever I can carry easily. And I bring enough to share with the class. When packing snacks remember, hunger makes people cranky, and I don’t want to be the one trying to chant “No justice, no peace” while hangry enough to throw a traffic cone.
I’m a trained medic, so my first aid kit is comprehensive, but yours doesn’t have to be at all: a few band-aids, alcohol wipes, and a little bottle of saline in case someone catches tear gas in the eyes will do the trick and will be invaluable in a pinch. I’ve used my mini first aid kit more than a few times to help strangers who never expected to get gassed.
I also only carry cash. Not much, just enough to grab transit, food, or bail someone out of a bind. I don’t rely on credit cards or apps, even on my burner; if cell service goes down or cops shut down a signal tower, Venmo’s not going to save you.
While on the topic of devices, phones are a tricky subject. My rule of thumb is, if I can’t afford to lose it, I don’t bring it. If I do bring a phone, it’s my burner. I strip it down: airplane mode, no biometrics, no unlocked social media, and ideally in a Faraday pouch. You can grab one (with cash only) at your local Dollar General, and make sure it only takes prepaid minute cards. Your iPhone doesn’t need to be live-tracking your location while you’re trying to avoid being kettled on the steps of a courthouse, and I promise you, no one wants to see the snap story of you getting detained either.
How to Know When Something’s Off: Keep Your Head on a Swivel
Crowds are just like living organisms. They breathe, shift, and react in patterns, and just like animals in the wild, you can learn to sense when something’s about to go sideways. I’ve been doing this for over 25 years and I’m still learning behaviors and warning signs, so don’t get down on yourself if you don’t know how to read the room. Here are a few tips to get you ready to see beyond the obvious.
First, I stay aware of my surroundings at all times. Remember these two words: entrance and egress. I know where I entered, and I clock at least two points of egress, or exits. I never get too deep in the middle of a crowd unless I trust the group and I have a protest buddy with me. Being near the edge gives me plenty of options, not just for my own safety but to aid in the safety of those around me.
I keep an eye on police lines constantly. When they start putting on gas masks, forming tighter formations, or pulling zip-ties from their belts, that’s my cue to start making some noise and moving to the outer rim of the crowd. I might not leave yet, but I’m going to prepare to move and help others around me move as a group. Police don’t telegraph intentions with words; they do it with posture and gear, so it’s a great idea to watch body language and warning signs.
I also watch for counter-protesters, bad actors, and agitators. Some bad actors show up looking to start fights or stir chaos. I’ve seen people push crowds toward cops without warning, throw water bottles from behind a group to trigger retaliation, and shout slogans that sound just off enough to feel planted. Bad actors try too hard to escalate, so you have a few choices to counter their agenda. My go-to if confronted with a bad actor is to call them out. Point and shout out loud “bad actor” does the trick more often than not. You can also sing in their direction, get others to join you, and shoo them away with nonviolent de-escalation. If you come across a group of counter protestors, link arms with your neighbors and start singing. I find that singing any song, even Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, is a sure fire way to de-escalate the situation while calling attention to their agenda of destruction.
Also paramount to note; if someone’s filming faces, taking close-up photos, or asking who’s in charge, I treat them with extreme caution. Sometimes they might just be journalists or influencers trying to get the inside scoop, but sometimes these people are cops, or even worse. It’s perfectly acceptable to be apprehensive and err on the side of caution, it’s your personal safety that matters most. Trust your gut. And remember: the loudest person isn’t always the most trustworthy.
What If I Get Arrested? Holding the Line
Full disclosure, I’ve absolutely been arrested at a protest, but fortunately, I’ve never been charged with a crime. After that first time you feel the cold steel on your wrists, you learn to plan ahead and plan for the worse. I typically plan like I might be detained at every protest, rally, or political event I attend because it’s better to have a plan and not need it than the other way around. Trust me on this.
If I am detained, I don’t fight. I don’t argue. I don’t try to educate the cop about my rights at that moment. I just say: “I’m invoking my right to remain silent. I want a lawyer.” Then I zip it. Full stop. Even if they ask you question after question, take your stuff, check your phone (biometrics should be off), check your pockets, empty out your bag on the sidewalk, it doesn’t matter.
You’ve taken a vow of silence. Not a peep. The only acceptable alternative to this is if you choose to push back on their questions, the only word you’re allowed to say is “lawyer” then button it back up.
I don’t unlock my phone. I don’t sign anything. I don’t answer questions without legal support. If I have medical needs, I state them clearly and loudly for others to hear and I look directly into their body cam when doing so. If you are undocumented, trans, immunocompromised, or otherwise vulnerable in any way shape or form, please make sure someone with you knows where you are and what to say on your behalf. If you see anyone detained that fits those criteria, film it. Make sure your phone is horizontal and you film the arresting officer, not the person being arrested. Try and keep your distance, you don’t want an obstruction charge, but close enough to zoom in on the badge number and name tag. We need to look out for one another at all times.
And always remember, sometimes solidarity means holding the line, sometimes it means holding your silence. Stay frosty and hold the line.
Time After Time: Why I Still Show Up
If you haven’t guessed it by now, or know who I am personally, this is my passion project. I’ve been doing this a long time and I have zero intentions on slowing down. I don’t show up because I need to get my steps in. I don’t show up because collecting stamps as a hobby got boring. I don’t show up to protests because it’s easy and fun. I show up because the world doesn’t change without pressure, and pressure means presence.
But I’m going to be completely transparent with you, dear reader, presence just isn’t enough anymore. It has to be well-informed. It has to be thoughtful. It has to be strategic. Every time I go out, I’m part of something bigger than myself, and that means taking responsibility for how I show up. Not just for my own safety, but the safety of those around me.
So if this is your first protest, welcome. I hope it’s peaceful. I hope it’s joyful. I hope it’s the first of many, many more to come.
But if it isn’t, if things get real, if the cops push back, if the mood shifts, if bad actors come out to play, then I hope you remember this:
Be ready. Be smart. Be diligent. Watch your exits. Help each other. Know when to link arms and when to disappear into the crowd. And never forget; protesting isn’t just resistance. It’s community in motion.
Stay sharp. Stay safe. Stay free.
See you in the streets.
This is the first of a two-part series. Click here for a brief overview of the content of this post, or head to Part 2.