I was downtown Friday night, and it was eerie af. There was barely anyone out, and the streets were filled with crews boarding up windows and stationed cops in riot gear with motorcycles & cruisers every couple blocks. There even was a pair of officers coming in to do a lap in the quiet, half empty bar I was in. Clearly there was the expectation of 2020-esque protest.

It made me question if I’ve gotten jaded or desensitized to these kinds of awful events. I felt like I wasn’t the person I thought I was, because I found myself thinking “they were fired, they were arrested, and this is just getting started.” I didn’t have that fire inside me that drives me to get out on the streets, ya know?

Now, the entire unit has been disbanded. Exactly what I’d called for during other protests of injustice. So while I’m very sad for the man and his family, still waiting to see what else unfolds, I still am not expecting to hit the streets tonight.

I guess I’m feeling a bit validated that there weren’t mass protests, and think that maybe there is nuance to these situations that is widely understood. It’s not just an outrage machine we were all running, like a lot of murdering-cop sympathizers make a narrative about.