I had planned to go to the RNC this year.
I tagged along to St. Paul in 2008, where my husband was working, figuring it would be a great place to take pictures. I wasn’t disappointed. But I did get more than I bargained for.
In 2008, I got tear gassed for the first (and only) time; my heart beating as percussion grenades went off in the stinging smokey darkness, giving me a small sense of what it might be like to be in a war zone. For a novice, I had no way of knowing that what I was hearing wasn’t machine gun fire. I might have been crying. In fact, I definitely was.
But as 2016 rolled around, with Cleveland a fairly easy drive from VA, that feeling of terror had dimmed against visions the beautiful day, Rage against the Machine playing to an adoring crowd and the tangible experience of living in a democracy.
After watching the news of the past few weeks, I’ve reconsidered. Instead, I’m posting pictures from 2008, which, when compared to 2016, might be indistinguishable.
The more things change, the more they stay the same.