Pushing Back

I look around – a lot. As a documentary photographer, I try to stay out of the way of what’s happening around me and look for the moments that call out for attention. Usually these moments are fleeting. They can happen in an instant, as a glance, a grimace, a tender smile, or a slight shadow. The power of these moments have the potential to clarify, comfort and unify.

A couple of weeks ago, I returned to Asbury Park after being away for five months. It was a sunny Monday morning in June, and as I drove along Main Street, I noticed that the sidewalks were almost empty. An eerie feeling filled the air. Where were the Hispanic and Haitian mothers pushing their strollers with their preschoolers by their side? Where were the workers stopping for lunch at La Tapatia Grocery or a slice at TJ’s? Even the laundromat was almost empty. I had lived and worked in Asbury Park for over 25 years, and I knew that the usual vibrant vibe was off. Way off. What was going on? Why were the streets so deserted?

The answer came loud and clear from the stage at the No Kings Rally last week in Springwood Park. A young first generation hispanic woman told her story to the crowd of protestors. She spoke of her love for this country, her pride in being Mexican-American and most importantly her fears. She feared for her community, her friends, her family, especially her beloved parents who are living in constant fear of being captured by ICE. Many hundreds of others in our community, like them, are hiding here in our designated sanctuary city of Asbury Park.

When I first arrived at the rally, I was immediately struck by the jovial atmosphere. People were gathered, comparing their protest signs and props, and connecting with friends and fellow protestors. Hundreds of people had come, in addition to the local Asbury Park activist and rebel rouser community that I’ve known for years. However, there were also new faces there, both young and old, on the West Side that day. I couldn’t help but feel acutely aware that the people and families most affected by this suffocating oppression were not present.

Suddenly, just as my weather app had predicted, the ominous clouds above burst. Though rain washed some of the words off their protest signs, their voices remained loud as they shouted out their disgust against the authoritarianism of the current administration in DC.

When the speeches were over and the rally was coming to an end, I was looking out at the crowds as they were leaving. Most of the protesters were soaking wet but still standing tall. It was then that a sense of peace, maybe even hope, came over me. That day all over our country marches and rallies were pushing back against injustice and tyranny. Asbury Park was pushing back. Hard.

In these strenuous and painful times, let’s remember that we’re stronger together. When things seem hopeless, remember resiliency prevails. Take a break from the news and look beyond your usual surroundings.

Look around – a lot. Get involved and be there for each other.

That’s what we do in Asbury Park.