The first political action I ever attended was the largest climate protest in Human history, the 2019 Global Climate Strike. I hadn't a clue. I saw a Facebook post about some climate meeting march meeting with 300 RSVPs and I went thinking no one would show up! Between 1,500 and 3,000 people marched that day. I saw passion, voice, the common human, and effort unlike anything I had seen before. I was hooked, and soon was marching often in part myself.

When George Floyd died and the country was launched into a social unrest unlike anything in my lifetime, I knew I had to go with my camera. This seed grew inside me when I marched June 2020 with 30,000 others in the streets of Chicago. Shortly after on this eve of destruction, I visited Minneapolis. I went to where George Floyd died, I visited Seattle and the Capital Hill Autonomous Zone. I spent a day and night in Portland. I also visited Mt. Rushmore the day before Trump's July 4th speech there. 

As a photographer, artist, activist, and ex-journalism major, I felt I was one who could do it. I dropped everything in my life to make that trip. All too real to me. I had to know. I had to see for myself.

I don't endorse all messages represented in my photographs. I am an individual documenting reality. For that I am guilty as charged.