Fifty-eighth day

As I write this, thousands of people are down at the so-called Justice Center, as they have been every night for 58 nights, chanting, building community, making music, eating barbecue ribs, buying or selling T-shirts, wearing gas masks, tossing beach balls over the wall, carrying shields (garbage can lids, umbrellas, skateboards), listening to speeches, and then—starting at about 11:30 pm —being gassed, shot with impact munitions, sprayed with chemicals that burn and blister their skin, and sometimes being clubbed with metal truncheons. How long can this go on? 

I hear the surveillance helicopters chopping the air. Tonight, in addition to the Wall of Moms and the Dad Pod, there is a Wall of Vets and a contingent of teachers, a large group of lawyers (in suits), healthcare workers, an "Asian Bloc," and the Drumline. Photos and details will be updated here, and many wonderful young photographers are doing the work of documenting all that's happening. Their photographs are jaw-dropping.

I spent the day Zooming, organizing, writing, texting, and emailing. I didn’t leave the apartment, but I’m exhausted, feel like I’ve been running all day. There was a tender pink crescent of cloud under the crescent moon at sunset.