Protest

There is a small group of protestors outside of the Iraqi embassy on P Street between Dupont Circle and 18th Street. There are fourteen of them, all dressed in casual clothes, mostly jeans and long-sleeve t-shirts. One man, middle-aged with light hair, wears a shirt with a photograph printed on it. The photograph is of a young man in military uniform. All of the protestors appear to be white and all but one appear to be middle-aged. The younger participant is a girl, probably in her teens, holding a nicely stenciled sign that says “Support Our Troops: Bring Them Home”. A couple of the signs are clearly home-made; the printing is imperfect and slanted. Several of the signs are professionally made and have a laminated glean. From my distance it is hard to read most of the signs. The police have barricaded off the entire block with wooden barricades blocking the street, and yellow tape blocking the sidewalk. None of the protestors are speaking and are hardly even moving, but there are four police officers standing around them, and three police cars parked in front of the embassy.

A man with a news camera and a reporter arrive and as they approach the tape, and officer comes up to them. They three speak for a moment, the reporter turns to the cameraman, and they walk over to the group of protestors. The reporter begins talking to one of the older men, and then the camera is raised and directed toward him. He speaks with the camera on his for a few moments, and while he is still speaking the camera droops and the reporter pats him on the back. Next the young girl is brought to speak in front of the camera for a few moments. The reporter then approaches another police officer. After a minute or two they news team leaves.

People walking on Dupont Circle do not seem to notice the protest. Most pass by the barricades without noticing, or with only a glance. One woman attempts to walk down P Street, but when she sees an officer begin to approach her, she turns back and walks down the next street. One man first sees me sitting facing the scene and looks from me to the protest and back to me again. He is middle-aged and wearing a suit. After a moment he asks me what is going on, and I tell him there is a protest in front of the Iraqi embassy. He asks me what I am doing, and I tell him I am writing about it. Then he asks me if he can join me, and if I have a boyfriend. I leave.