A massive drum-in feels trite against the heaviness of a day like today. But, we all join together in the ways we know how. There’s strength in solidarity, there’s hope in resistance. There’s thirty of us on a bridge, thousands on the streets of Minneapolis, millions around the world.

Yes! Also the labeling of anyone documenting or protesting as “activists.” No one wants to be out here doing this. These are neighbors and parents and friends. “An activist was detained” sanitizes the horrors of, say, “a mom of three on her way to work was pulled from her car and thrown into a cell”

All I know is: I am the son of an immigrant and the father to an immigrant. Any word I could say or note I could play will be informed by this forever. Thousands in Minneapolis could say the same. Millions in America. No amount of Republican brown-shirted soldiers can erase this with a bullet.

No one has ever told me to “shut up and play music” but those are the words that echo in my head as I get dressed. There is a quiet impact I wish I could make and a reality of my life as an entertainer. I struggle with this contrast a lot.