Reel Urban Politics Exclusive:

I would hardly call what unfolded in San Jose, after the Trump rally, a demonstration or protest. What happened was a full-on riot. Rioters were in the streets. Rioters were damaging private property. Rioters were verbally and physically assaulting people who were just walking- just trying to get to their next destination. For us (three moms and one with her nine-year-old daughter), we were just trying to get to our car to drive home.

Upon exiting the rally venue there was calm. There were barricades that detoured the crowd and kept us on a predetermined path. Police officers were strategically lined up along the way and all was well as they stood between us (the people who were exiting the rally) and them (the people already on the sidewalks and streets). Somewhere along the way, the protective wall of police officers shifted and all of a sudden we were right in the mix of vulgar language, disrespect, and intimidation.

Donald Trump Rally pic 2

There were females trying to hide their identity by covering the lower part of their face with bandanas. They were cursing at the top of their lungs. One yelled at my mom friend who was wearing Trump gear, “What are you teaching the next generation? That s— ain’t ok.”

Shockingly, there was a mom who was wearing her baby (I presume the baby is hers) in a front-facing carrier, standing with other moms (who had their children with them; again I presume) shouting over and over and over , “F— TRUMP! F— you!”

The most appalling sight was the line of little kids with F— TRUMP written in black under their eyes. F— under one eye. And TRUMP under the other eye. You know, like how football players put that black stuff under their eyes.

Three moms and a daughter at the San Jose, CA. Trump rally. L to R: Christine, Elizabeth (Christine's daughter) Cynthia Shaffer and Savoula
Three moms and a daughter at the San Jose, CA. Trump rally. L to R: Christine, Elizabeth (Christine’s daughter) Cynthia Shaffer and Savoula

Then I got separated from friends. Out of nowhere the police made a perimeter and I was caught on the inside of it. My friends were on the outside. We locked eyes. I felt better knowing they had seen me, but rioters were all around me. Shirtless males throwing up signs, females flipping their middle-fingers, and the screaming…it was so loud. I was physically trapped in the midst of hypocritical hate. I was being mistaken for being a perpetrator of that hate- a rioter. I had on no Trump gear and I wasn’t, “an angry white male”. Bodies were bumping me. And the heat made each touch even more disgusting. GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!

I pleaded with the officers while frantically pointing to my friends on the other side, “Please look over there. Behind you. I’m with my friends over there. We came together.” The officers were stoic. Stoney. They were doing their job. My friends in turn were yelling at the officers that I was with them while frantically pointing to the Trump gear. Then one of the officers stepped aside and whispered, “Go.” I don’t even know if he said anything else. As I shot to freedom like a bullet, I whispered, “Thank you”.

Cynthia Shaffer, Political Editor, Reel Urban News, covers and writes about local and national politics from Northern California.
Cynthia Shaffer, Political Editor, Reel Urban News, covers and writes about local and national politics from Northern California.

 

 

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