吃瓜大本营

When Kishon McDonald saw the video of George Floyd鈥檚 murder at the hands of four officers from the Minneapolis Police Department, he could tell it was going to turn the country upside down.

鈥淚 knew it was going to catch fire,鈥� he said.

McDonald, a former sailor in the U.S. Navy, watched over the following days as demonstrations against police brutality spread from Minneapolis to cities and towns across the country, eventually reaching Washington, D.C., where he lived.

On June 1, he heard that people were planning to peacefully gather at Lafayette Square, a small park directly across from the White House, and decided to join them. By then, police had begun to attack and beat demonstrators in Minneapolis, New York, and others in states everywhere, escalating tensions as smaller groups broke into shops and set fire to police cars.

But when McDonald arrived at Lafayette Square, he found a crowd of a few thousand people cheering, chanting slogans, and listening to speeches. Washington D.C. Mayor Muriel Bowser had imposed a 7 p.m. curfew after clashes the night before, but that was still an hour away.

鈥淓verybody there was like, it鈥檚 alright, we鈥檙e going to be here until 7 o鈥檆lock,鈥� he said. 鈥淚t was a very good energy.鈥�

It wouldn鈥檛 be long before that would change.

In the days following George Floyd鈥檚 murder, President Trump had focused his attention on the relatively small number of people who had damaged property, threatening to use the 鈥溾�� and tweeting 鈥溾�� What the protesters gathered in Lafayette Square that day didn鈥檛 know was that he was planning to stage a photo opportunity at a nearby church that evening.

Unbeknownst to McDonald, as he and the others chanted 鈥渉ands up, don鈥檛 shoot,鈥� the U.S. Park Police and other law enforcement agencies were just out of sight, donning riot gear and checking the weapons they would shortly use against the crowd to pave the way for the president鈥檚 walk to the church.

At 6:30 p.m. 鈥� half an hour before Washington D.C.鈥檚 curfew 鈥� dozens of battle-clad officers rushed the protest, hurling stun grenades and firing tear gas canisters, rubber bullets, and pepper balls into the crowd. McDonald says there were no warnings, just an onslaught of violence.

鈥淎ll hell broke loose,鈥� he said.

As the deafening explosions from the stun grenades gave way to thick clouds of tear gas, terrified protesters began to run from the batons and riot shields that police were using to force them out of the square.

鈥淚t was just straight fear. Everybody was scared and running for their lives,鈥� he said.

McDonald tried to plead for instructions from the advancing officers, asking them what they wanted people to do. Instead, one threw a stun grenade at him.

鈥淎s it exploded, hot shrapnel hit my leg,鈥� he said. 鈥淚t felt like somebody put a cast iron skillet on my leg, it was just so hot. I started jumping up and down trying to get away from it, but shrapnel was going everywhere.鈥�

Suffocating tear gas enveloped him and the other protesters, making them gasp and cough as they ran down the street.

鈥淚 saw a young boy, he must have been about 15, and he was choking a lot. Somebody put a shirt over his face and kind of ran him out,鈥� he recalled.

McDonald had seen enough. Bruised from being hit with riot shields and with his vision still blurred from the tear gas, he walked home. In a phone interview with the ACLU, he said that the experience had made him more wary of attending protests, but it also illustrated why he鈥檇 gone there to begin with.

鈥淚t seems like everything is getting to be a military type thing in our society, and we were protesting to calm that down,鈥� he said. 鈥淎nd the message we got is, 鈥楴o, we aren鈥檛 calming down.鈥欌��

鈥淚 hope someone gets held accountable,鈥� he added.

In the wake of George Floyd鈥檚 death, Americans poured into the streets to voice their condemnation of police brutality against Black people. The weeks that followed were a milestone in American history, with protests and displays of solidarity reaching towns as small as , and cities as large as . As months of a painful COVID-19 lockdown gave way to incandescent fury over the killing of Floyd and the violent response of the Minneapolis Police Department towards the initial protests, a few people went as far as or .

The vast majority of protests, however, were almost entirely peaceful.

Still, police departments across the country deployed staggering levels of violence against protesters. On social media, the world watched a near-instantaneous live feed of police in firing tear gas, rubber bullets, and other projectiles into protests, using pepper spray against protesters and journalists alike, and beating people with batons.

This widespread and indiscriminate deployment of what are often called 鈥渓ess-lethal鈥� weapons 鈥� LLWs 鈥� injured countless people, some severely.

In Austin, Texas, 20-year-old college student suffered a skull fracture after being shot in the head with a 鈥渂eanbag round鈥� filled with lead pellets. , a journalist and photographer, lost her left eye to a 鈥渞ubber bullet鈥� fired by police in Minneapolis. In Seattle, 26-year-old nearly died after a stun grenade exploded next to her chest.

According to Carl Takei, a senior staff attorney at the ACLU鈥檚 Trone Center for Justice and Equality who focuses on police practices, this widespread and violent use of LLWs during the George Floyd uprising was an attack on the protesters鈥� constitutional right to free speech.

鈥淭here鈥檚 just no justification under the existing Fourth Amendment framework for the use of these weapons,鈥� he said. 鈥淎nd it鈥檚 happening over and over again, with patterns that are so similar across the different cities.鈥�

For years these weapons were referred to as 鈥渘on-lethal.鈥� But in practice, they have a of causing serious injuries and deaths.

A by the International Network of Civil Liberties Organizations analyzed 25 years of available data on the use of LLWs by law enforcement across the world. It found that between 1990 and 2015, 鈥渒inetic impact projectiles鈥� 鈥� a category that includes rubber bullets and beanbag rounds 鈥� caused at least 1,925 injuries, including 53 deaths and 294 instances of permanent disability.

Tear gas, which is banned for use in warfare under the 1925 Geneva Protocol, injured at least 9,261 people over the same time period, including two deaths and 70 permanent disabilities.

The report also found that LLWs are most commonly used to stamp out political protests and shut down aggressive demands for greater rights.

According to Takei, even the term 鈥渓ess lethal鈥� downplays the damage they can inflict.

鈥淏eating somebody with a baseball bat, as long as you鈥檙e not hitting them in the head or other sensitive areas of the body is 鈥榣ess lethal,鈥� but it鈥檚 still incredibly violent,鈥� he said.

During the civil rights and anti-war demonstrations of the 1960s, police used tear gas and other LLWs extensively to disrupt and disperse protests. But after three federal commissions found that abuse of those weapons provoked aggressive responses by protesters and contributed to a cycle of violence, they fell out of favor with U.S. law enforcement as a method of controlling crowds. According to the Marshall Project, in subsequent decades, some police departments adopted a 鈥溾�� approach to protests, working with organizers in advance to establish ground rules meant to prevent violence.

But any movement toward de-escalation evaporated in the wake of large anti-globalization protests that took place during a 1999 World Trade Organization meeting, in an event that would come to be called the 鈥溾�� In a prelude to how many police departments would later approach the George Floyd uprising, Seattle police attacked the mostly non-violent protesters with LLWs, provoking a handful to respond aggressively in kind.

鈥淭he response of a lot of police departments after that was, well if some people won鈥檛 act as predicted, we should have a hyper-aggressive response for everybody,鈥� said Takei. 鈥淏ut when police adopt this type of response to Black-led protests against police violence, they are repeating a pattern of brutality that goes back to the origins of American policing in Southern slave patrols.鈥�

Now, as outcry over the indiscriminate use of LLWs against Black Lives Matter protesters mounts, some municipalities are weighing restrictions on the weapons. After the ACLU sued the Seattle Police Department in early June for its violent response to protests in the city, a judge ordered police there to cease using the weapons against peaceful demonstrators, saying they had 鈥�.鈥�

Days later, Seattle鈥檚 city council to prohibit their use against protesters. Legislators in and have also proposed similar bans.

The ACLU spoke to a number of people who were attacked with LLWs by police during demonstrations over George Floyd鈥檚 murder in recent weeks. This is how they described their experiences.

Gabe Schlough wasn鈥檛 surprised that the Minneapolis Police Department had killed another one of its Black residents. He lives in Denver now, but he鈥檇 gone to college years earlier in Minneapolis. Just before he graduated, he鈥檇 been shot in the back with a stun gun by police who entered his home and tried to arrest him in a case of mistaken identity.

Schlough had been invited to a protest at downtown Denver鈥檚 Capitol Building that night, but instead he decided to drive his motorcycle up into the mountains with a friend.

鈥淚n one of the areas where people were hiking and snowboarding and skiing down I saw three Black people, and I was just fucking happy,鈥� he said. 鈥淚 was like, thank God not every Black person thinks they need to be at the Capitol right now.鈥�

But when he got back home later that night and saw images of the Denver Police Department鈥檚 response to the protest, he felt his blood start to boil.

鈥淲e can鈥檛 even give doctors and nurses facemasks, but we can give our police access to militarized weapons that are exceedingly more expensive and hard to create than the protective mechanisms we need for health care workers,鈥� he recalled thinking.

Schlough has a degree in public health anthropology, and he鈥檇 worked in health care across the world, including a stint in an Ebola clinic in Sierra Leone. He had medical training and had participated in protests before, so he decided to defy the curfew along with a few friends to see if he could offer help in case anyone got hurt. Donning his face mask along with sunglasses to protect his eyes, Schlough set off towards the Capitol Building.

When he arrived, he saw a crowd of two or three hundred people facing down a line of police.

鈥淭hey were standing just a little bit more than shoulder to shoulder apart with full riot gear, with their face shields and full protective armor on,鈥� he recalled.

Schlough moved up toward the front of the crowd. Behind him, somebody set a pile of garbage on fire. That was all the police needed to begin their advance. As they moved forward, they shot canisters of tear gas into the crowd and tossed stun grenades.

鈥淚 was going around and telling people who didn鈥檛 have eye coverings to watch their eyes and protect their face,鈥� he said. 鈥淛ust running up and down the line and getting people educated, like this is happening and this is what you need to know.鈥�

As a canister of tear gas landed next to him, Schlough bent down to try and cover it with a traffic cone so the gas wouldn鈥檛 spread. Suddenly, he felt sharp blows to his face and chest.

鈥淎 shock hit me and my head popped up,鈥� he said. 鈥淚 felt like somebody had punched me in the chest.鈥�

Schlough had been shot with rubber bullets, although he didn鈥檛 know it yet. As he fell back further into the crowd of protestors, someone told him he was bleeding.

鈥淵ou need to go to a hospital,鈥� they said. 鈥淵our face is falling off.鈥�

Another bystander pulled out his phone and showed Schlough his injury. The bullet had left a gaping wound on his chin, and blood was pouring down onto the front of his shirt. In retrospect, Schlough says he thinks he was specifically targeted, and that police knew exactly where they were aiming when they shot him.

He and a friend left and started walking toward a nearby hospital where he did volunteer shifts. But when they arrived, Denver police were also there.

鈥淭here were cop cars there and more pulling up, and I understood that it was not a safe place for me to get treated because of the amount of police presence there,鈥� he said.

Instead, Schlough had to drive outside Denver to be treated at a different facility. Doctors cleaned his wound and gave him 20 stitches. More than a week later, part of his chin is still numb. He worries that he may have suffered nerve damage.

Last Christmas, while visiting his mother in Wisconsin, he says one of her friends asked him what the most dangerous place he鈥檇 ever been was.

鈥淚 told her that I鈥檓 the most scared when I鈥檓 in the U.S. and around a police officer,鈥� he said. 鈥淏ecause I know that no matter who I am or what I鈥檝e done in my life, I can be shot and killed, and nothing will matter.鈥�

Toni Sanders arrived at Lafayette Square along with her wife and 9-year-old stepson in the late afternoon of June 1 鈥� the same day that Kishon McDonald was there. Their son 鈥� identified in court papers as J.N.C. 鈥� had been watching the news over the preceding days, and the family had been having difficult conversations about George Floyd and why there was unrest rocking the country.

鈥淲e spoke about Aiyana Stanley-Jones and Tamir Rice, and people right here in D.C. who had been killed by Metropolitan Police 鈥� Raphael Briscoe, Terrence Sterling, Marqueese Alston, and explained to him that was why people were protesting,鈥� Sanders said.

He said that he鈥檇 like to accompany Sanders and his mother to Lafayette Square.

鈥淚 assured him that it would be safe because it was a peaceful protest and that we would leave before the curfew started,鈥� she said.

At first, she was glad that she鈥檇 agreed to bring him to what felt like a 鈥渃ommunity environment.鈥� People in the square were passing out snacks, chanting, and kneeling in solidarity with George Floyd.

鈥淓verything started out wonderful, it was a great experience,鈥� she recalled. 鈥淲e even took a picture when we first got down there just to remember the date we all stood together.鈥�

Then, the attack began.

鈥淚 just heard the loud bah bah bah bah, and smoke started to fill the area.鈥�

Sanders was immediately terrified for her young stepson.

鈥淚 just started screaming to my family, run, run, run,鈥� she said. The three sprinted away from the sound of detonating stun grenades and the shrieks of injured protesters. After making it a few blocks away, they stopped to catch their breath and check in with one another.

鈥淗e said, 鈥業 can鈥檛 believe I just survived my first near-death experience.鈥� And it literally broke my heart because there鈥檚 honestly nothing I could say to him. I couldn鈥檛 tell him this wasn鈥檛 a near-death experience.鈥�

Sanders was furious that police hadn鈥檛 warned protesters to disperse before violently clearing the park. If they had, she said, she would have quickly brought her stepson to safety.

鈥淚f we had been asked to either move back or leave, we would have. We would not have protested that because we have a child that we must look out for,鈥� she said.

After the attack, Sanders鈥� son expressed anger and hurt over how police had treated them. Sanders had refused to allow the experience to scare her away from attending protests, but now when she left the house he would ask her to promise that she wouldn鈥檛 die.

鈥淚 wanted to show him that even though you鈥檙e afraid, if someone is trying to take your rights and do you wrong, you have to stand up for who you are and what you believe in,鈥� she said.

The couple decided to put him into therapy to work out how that day affected him. Sanders says he told his therapist that he thinks that it鈥檚 the end of the world now, and that the government is at war with Black people.

鈥淣ow we have to have uncomfortable conversations with him about systemic racism, overt racism, covert racism,鈥� she said. 鈥淎nd it鈥檚 horrible to have to take that innocence from him.鈥�

Along with Kishon McDonald, Sanders is one of two plaintiffs in an ACLU lawsuit over the attack on Lafayette Square protesters that day. Over the phone, she recites the poem 鈥� by Claude McKay.

We鈥檒l face the murderous, cowardly pack,
Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!

鈥淲e鈥檙e here to show you that we鈥檙e still citizens, and we鈥檙e going to exercise our rights, and there鈥檚 nothing you can do about it.鈥�

On May 30, first-year law student Alexandra Chen marched to a police precinct in downtown Seattle along with a few hundred other demonstrators. It was the second protest she鈥檇 attended, the first being the day before. When they arrived at the precinct, there were police in riot gear out in front, with others standing in the windows and watching the crowd from above.

鈥淧eople were clearly agitated, but I didn鈥檛 see anyone really try to push the ticket,鈥� she said. 鈥淔olks were just crowding around and leading chants.鈥�

A few scattered water bottles along with a road flare were thrown at the precinct, but aside from that, Chen said nobody in the crowd was signaling that violence was coming.

鈥淚 remember thinking to myself, 鈥榊ou know, this would be a great opportunity for someone to come out with a megaphone and make a statement about how you understand why we鈥檙e so angry and you want to work with us on how to fix this,鈥欌�� she said.

Instead, just like in Washington, D.C., Denver, and , the Seattle Police Department began to throw stun grenades and tear gas into the crowd.

鈥淭here was no warning at all,鈥� she said. 鈥淚t was just absolute chaos.鈥�

When the first stun grenade detonated near her, she felt a 鈥渄eep percussive feeling鈥� in her chest. People began to scream and run as tear gas filled the street. As she and her friend tried to move away from the precinct, she noticed another young woman desperately trying to find fresh air.

鈥淭here was a gap in a wall that was about six to eight inches between buildings, and she was trying to escape the gas. It looked like she was trying to crawl into that space, and you could hear her retching,鈥� she said.

Tear gas is by its nature indiscriminate. It can鈥檛 be controlled or targeted to incapacitate specific people. As soon as a canister or grenade is launched, it becomes the property of the wind. Young and old alike are subject to its effects, which Chen says go from 鈥渦ncomfortable to intolerable in a short amount of time.鈥�

Chen says that when the group first arrived at the precinct, nearly everyone was wearing masks to prevent the spread of COVID-19. But after the tear gas was fired, people began to rip them off as they choked, coughed, and gasped for air.

鈥淔irst, you think to yourself, 鈥淥kay, I can tolerate this,鈥欌�� she said. 鈥淵ou don鈥檛 really expect that it鈥檚 going to get worse, but it does. It moves deeper into your face and once it gets into your sinuses, everything it touches burns.鈥�

All around her, people were calling out for their friends and loved ones through the thick smoke.

鈥淚t was hard to tell which direction to run because when they threw the canisters, they rolled down the hills spewing tear gas the whole way. So effectively, you had not just the immediate area in front of the police station gassed, you had the whole block, and when you鈥檙e in the middle of it, you can鈥檛 tell where it ends,鈥� she recalled.

After Chen and her friend emerged from the cloud, a medic nearby helped flush her eyes out with water, and the two walked back to her apartment. She is now a plaintiff in an ACLU lawsuit brought against the Seattle Police Department over its use of tear gas and other LLWs.

鈥淚 don鈥檛 care what they want to say about how people are violent,鈥� she said. 鈥淲hat I saw was peaceful protesters met with an immediate and overwhelming show of force to get us to disperse.鈥�

Jared Goyette moved to Minneapolis five years ago to be close to his daughter. As a journalist, he鈥檇 covered protests over police brutality before 鈥� first at the Mall of America during the Ferguson uprising, and then later after the killing of Philando Castile.

Over the years, he鈥檇 developed ties to the city鈥檚 activist community, and in the hours after the video of George Floyd鈥檚 murder was released, his phone began to buzz.

鈥淚 started getting texts from different Black activists in the Twin Cities,鈥� he said. Goyette could tell that Floyd鈥檚 killing would lead to unrest, and before long national news outlets began reaching out to ask for his help covering the story.

On May 27th, two days after Floyd鈥檚 death, Goyette heard the sound of helicopters buzzing over the Minneapolis Police Department鈥檚 Third Precinct. The Precinct had already become a flash point for demonstrations, and Goyette decided to head to the area to see what was happening.

鈥淲hen I started surveying the scene, it was entirely different from anything I鈥檇 seen in my previous years of covering protests against police violence in Minnesota,鈥� he said.

Several hundred people had surrounded the precinct, and officers in riot gear were standing on the roof firing tear gas and rubber bullets at them. Goyette had his camera and notepad with him and, along with other journalists there, was visibly covering the standoff in his role as a reporter.

He saw that a young man had been shot in the head with a ballistic projectile, and moved towards him to try and see if he could do anything to help.

鈥淗e was just writhing on the ground in clear, severe pain,鈥� he said. 鈥淧eople were screaming, 鈥楥all 911.鈥欌��

Goyette noticed that his ten-year-old daughter had texted him to ask where he was, so he moved off to the side to text a response. Suddenly, he was on the ground.

鈥淭here was a searing pain in my eye,鈥� he recalled. 鈥淚t wasn鈥檛 like I was hit and then I fell, it was like I鈥檓 standing and then wait, I鈥檓 not standing and everything is black.鈥�

Goyette had been shot in the head with a rubber bullet. His nose was bleeding and his eye was swollen and black. People moved towards him to help, but tear gas began to flood the area.

He managed to woozily make his way to safety, and after gathering his composure for a few minutes, found his car and drove home. Initially, he didn鈥檛 think he needed medical attention, but his girlfriend told him he had to visit a community clinic. Health workers there said that if he鈥檇 waited longer for treatment, he might have lost sight in that eye.

He says he thinks it鈥檚 unlikely that officers didn鈥檛 know he was a journalist when they shot him.

鈥淚 wasn鈥檛 running, I wasn鈥檛 chanting,鈥� he said. 鈥淧rotesters aren鈥檛 normally dressed in a dress shirt and slacks.鈥�

Goyette wasn鈥檛 the only journalist who was targeted by Minneapolis police that week. Many documented being pepper sprayed despite clearly identifying themselves as reporters. Others were arrested, gassed, threatened, or 鈦犫�� like Goyette 鈦犫�� shot with rubber bullets. In a , CNN reporter Omar Jimenez was arrested on live television, despite the fact that he was accompanied by a full news crew with cameras and sound equipment.

鈥淚 worry that the sort of 鈥榝ake news鈥� doctrine is leading to journalists being targeted,鈥� said Goyette. 鈥淎nd this is the first time that I think we saw that at a systematic scale.鈥�

On June 3rd, the ACLU filed suit against the City of Minneapolis over the attacks on journalists that were carried out by MPD officers. Goyette is the lead plaintiff in the case.

鈥淚 don鈥檛 want this to come out wrong, but I feel angry, and a little bit afraid,鈥� he said. 鈥淭he Police Chief made an apology to journalists who were fired upon, but there wasn鈥檛 anything behind that apology. No promise to investigate and hold people accountable, nothing other than a sentimental gesture. And I fear that people are just going to move on.鈥�