Here are a few shots from when I went to Ferguson. There will be more to come. When the story was breaking, I sat for three nights on the couch, getting angrier and angrier. On the fourth night I realized I had no right to sit in the comfort of my own home, only three hours away. I had to do something. Without knowing much about the situation, aside from what was in the news, I decided it was my responsibility to go. I had no idea what I would find there, or if my presence was welcomed by the locals.
When I got there I quickly found a gathering of people who were out protesting on the side of the road. As I stepped out of my car it was quite apparent that I was not a local, yet I felt welcomed. Not as someone who was going to save the day, but as one more human who decided to get up off their ass and show some support when privilege would have made it entirely possible to ignore this situation.
Countless people stopped me on the streets that day and into the evening. Many shaking my hand or hugging me, all expressing gratitude for coming down with my camera to help document what was going on.
I find it entirely telling that the only fear I felt that night was from the police. Overall I left with the understanding that the people of Ferguson just wanted answers. The answers they received were in the form of tear gas and rubber bullets. Let’s face it folks, this is what democracy looks like if you’re brown.