𝙹𝙺
@whatsayjk.bsky.social
Spare a crumb of precedented times please?
📍Chicago
📍Chicago
Voices of #Chicago
A Mexican flag draped around her shoulders like armor, a bandana—a helmet proudly marked with the same tricolor bands. Her dark shades shielded her eyes, but it was clear she’d already seen the true terrors of this ‘war.’
“I’m an immigrant. We’re being treated like animals.”
A Mexican flag draped around her shoulders like armor, a bandana—a helmet proudly marked with the same tricolor bands. Her dark shades shielded her eyes, but it was clear she’d already seen the true terrors of this ‘war.’
“I’m an immigrant. We’re being treated like animals.”
October 10, 2025 at 11:59 PM
Voices of #Chicago
A Mexican flag draped around her shoulders like armor, a bandana—a helmet proudly marked with the same tricolor bands. Her dark shades shielded her eyes, but it was clear she’d already seen the true terrors of this ‘war.’
“I’m an immigrant. We’re being treated like animals.”
A Mexican flag draped around her shoulders like armor, a bandana—a helmet proudly marked with the same tricolor bands. Her dark shades shielded her eyes, but it was clear she’d already seen the true terrors of this ‘war.’
“I’m an immigrant. We’re being treated like animals.”
Voices of #Chicago
The older gentleman quietly walked his bike alongside the protestors—never chanting, but fully focused…present. I asked him why he thought it was important to show up and be heard. His eyes glistened and his voice choked, “Where else would I be?”
The older gentleman quietly walked his bike alongside the protestors—never chanting, but fully focused…present. I asked him why he thought it was important to show up and be heard. His eyes glistened and his voice choked, “Where else would I be?”
October 10, 2025 at 7:02 PM
Voices of #Chicago
The older gentleman quietly walked his bike alongside the protestors—never chanting, but fully focused…present. I asked him why he thought it was important to show up and be heard. His eyes glistened and his voice choked, “Where else would I be?”
The older gentleman quietly walked his bike alongside the protestors—never chanting, but fully focused…present. I asked him why he thought it was important to show up and be heard. His eyes glistened and his voice choked, “Where else would I be?”