We are like clay. Life, a chisel. Every experience we have brings us one step closer to seeing our ultimate form. Every hardship, every heartbreak, every trauma, every laugh forever shaping us into the people we see today. This month in America, the people took back our tools. Forever through with a culture that deemed us not worthy enough to dictate our own stories.
This month in America, my community, my beautiful Black community, evoked the spirit of our ancestors in what is becoming one of the largest protests in history. We will not stop until we see justice. We will not stop until we are granted the freedom that was stolen from us 401 years ago. We will no longer exist content with a world that asks us to justify our existence.
We are here.
We are valid.
We are power.
We are truth.
We are the definition of strength.
WE.
WILL.
NOT.
STOP.
Saturday, May 31, 2020 at 8:30am.
The morning after a night of tear gas, mace spray, rubber bullets and fireworks. I still wasn’t sure what my role in the movement was. I was still hard pressed to discover my purpose inside of the demand for change. There was no grand idea; just frustration, pain, fire and my camera. This was my first morning out photographing my city.
Sunday, May 31, 2020 night protest outside of the White House.
I remember so clearly willing myself to stand my ground, to walk closer with hands firmly up to show the officers and military personnel that my fire for freedom rang louder than the fear for my life. I was not alone in this. When bullets flew, we flocked to aid our fellow soldiers of the movement. When the tear gas came we shouted warnings and relieved one another with milk and encouraging words.
America, I found your milk but where on earth is the honey?
Monday, June 1, 2020 at 8:30am.
Most who view these photos see rioters, looters, agitators or “thugs” as our president says. I see pain, solidarity, fear and courage. How is it that when there is destruction to your historical buildings you see all of these things; and yet when there is destruction to Black bodies that hold centuries of history you see nothing?
Tuesday, June 2, 2020 at 6:30am.
This is what I see every night on the streets of the protests. I see love notes passed through strangers secretly. Love notes disguised as protest chants. Love notes masquerading around as free snacks for those in need. There are love notes all throughout our justice.
Wednesday, June 3, 2020 at 6:30am.
“We don’t see no riot here, why are you in riot gear?” The morning unknown military personnel arrived on charter buses adorned with grenade launchers and other war gear. Who is the real threat here?
Wednesday, June 3, 2020 outside of the White House.
“Brotherhood.” Even in uniform we still fight for you. We know that when you go home at night and the uniform comes off, your blood carries the same threat as ours.
Wednesday, June 3, 2020 outside of the White House.
“Perspective”
Thursday, June 4, 2020 at 8:30am.
“The Remnants”
Saturday, June 6, 2020 outside the White House.
Sunday, June 7, 2020 at 7:30am outside the White House fence.
Thank you so much for taking the time to view my documentation of the protests in Washington, DC. We just want you to be able to see things from our side for once. We are not a threat, we just want to stop fighting for the lives we are still trying to live. Please feel free to share and spread our narrative.
Click here to learn more about our demands.
Sending love,
Billie Krishawn