My Experience at the Anti-ICE Protest in Downtown Spokane
A Firsthand Account
Los Angeles has been the center of national media attention recently due to anti-ICE riots that have turned destructive and violent. The National Guard and U.S. Marines have been deployed, sparking widespread outrage. This unrest stems from the mass deportation of illegal immigrants by ICE nationwide, with some calling it a modern-day “Trail of Tears.”
While Spokane is not Los Angeles, there has still been notable community pushback against ICE. On Wednesday, June 11th, a protest began in downtown Spokane after former City Council President Ben Stuckart made a social media post urging citizens to join him in blocking a bus transporting two illegal immigrants. The protest grew quickly, with a heavy police presence establishing a perimeter around the ICE office on Washington Street.
Read Report from The Spokesman-Review
I had the unfortunate privilege of attending the anti-ICE protest in downtown Spokane, where I witnessed a range of events. Here is my experience.
I arrived downtown around 8:30 p.m., shortly after protesters had moved to the intersection of Washington Street and West North River Drive. A police barricade had been set up, blocking all roads leading to the ICE office. At the front of the barricade stood dozens of Spokane police officers—some in full riot gear, others wearing plate carriers and gas masks—several of them armed with pepper ball shotguns.
At first glance, the protest appeared non-violent, though it was loud and filled with vocal demonstrators. Police announced over a loudspeaker that a curfew would go into effect at 9:30 p.m., and that anyone who did not comply would be subject to arrest, possible use of force, and chemical deterrents.
Some attendees claimed tear gas had already been deployed earlier in the evening, but when I arrived, I saw no evidence of that. Reporters from The Spokesman recovered several canisters they believed to be tear gas, but upon inspection, they were labeled as smoke. A police officer confirmed that, to her knowledge, only smoke had been used.
At the front lines, protesters continued chanting and verbally berating the police. Some mockingly asked officers for water—surprisingly, several officers tossed water bottles to those who asked. One woman—barefoot, wearing partially unzipped shorts and essentially just a bra—waved a variant of the Mexican flag while screaming at police and calling them racists.
Meanwhile, the apparent event leader used a bullhorn to urge the crowd to remain peaceful and avoid violence.
When 9:30 p.m. came, the protest officially became unlawful due to the curfew. However, police held their positions and did not advance on the crowd.
While no direct clash occurred between protesters and police, violence erupted among protesters themselves. On the west side of Washington Street, the crowd grew chaotic. As I moved closer to observe, I witnessed several physical altercations.
The primary agitators appeared to be a smaller black man and his friend. I saw him headbutt someone and shout profanities and racial slurs at a group of Hispanic individuals—ironically, his friend appeared to be Hispanic himself and looked about 15 or 16 years old.
The man shouted, "I’ll blow this whole bitch down right now," demanding to know where his backpack was. His friend ran off to retrieve it as he continued making threats. His tone and urgency made me suspect he had something dangerous inside. My stomach dropped as adrenaline rushed through my system.
Trying to avoid direct involvement, I began filming from a short distance. When his friend returned with the backpack, the man unzipped it and threw a water bottle at someone. I cautiously approached, hoping to de-escalate the situation, fearing he might draw a weapon next.
Despite my attempt to calm him, he continued yelling and digging through his bag. The look in his eyes and the strain in his voice made me believe he intended to use something harmful. His female friend’s alarmed expression confirmed my fear. Then I saw it—a flash of metal. He had drawn a medium-sized Buck knife.
A woman tried to restrain him in a bear hug, but the knife glinted in the streetlights. At that moment, I knew I had to act. I moved in from behind and grabbed both his wrists, my pinky grazing the edge of the blade. He cursed at me while a woman behind screamed for me to let him go.
I again tried to de-escalate, urging him to release the knife. Once he calmed slightly, I shoved him back and created distance. He began to walk off, but his teenage friend rushed at me, screaming and eventually shoving me. I held my hands up, saying I didn’t want to fight.
Then the man with the knife returned. He stuffed the blade into his waistband, hand still gripping it, and walked directly toward me, eyes locked on mine. His friend followed, both of them closing the distance quickly.
A million thoughts raced through my mind. I feared I might have to defend myself with lethal force. I felt sick, second-guessing everything, but I kept stepping backward—refusing to turn my back, afraid I’d be stabbed.
As a last resort, I lifted my shirt to reveal my legally concealed pistol.
Thankfully, the sight of the weapon made the man hesitate. He stopped, backed off, and eventually walked away. I made my way to the police line and reported the entire incident to a group of SWAT officers, including the fact that I had exposed my firearm.
They assured me I had every right to do so. One officer even said that in my shoes, she would have drawn her weapon entirely. They took down my name and phone number, but as far as I know, no further action was taken—disappointing, considering how dangerous the situation had been.
After that, I left the area, not wanting to escalate things further.
What struck me most was that the violence occurred between protesters—not between protesters and police, as many had implied. These demonstrations seem less like genuine expressions of constitutional rights and more like theatrical displays by individuals seeking conflict. With so little cohesion and rationality among participants, these protests appear increasingly dangerous rather than productive.
-Written by Ryan Gaylee