#french protests

No, I should be protesting injustice. But not the injustices of today. People complaining about TV and TikTok influencers.

No, real stuff. Paris, 1968, in some arrondissement where the air smelled of rain, tear gas, Gauloises, and history trying to kick a door open.

I should be standing shoulder to shoulder with exhausted philosophers, angry students, dockworkers with trembling hands, and a communist puppet named Gérard who hasn’t slept since De Gaulle spoke on the radio.

The sort of protest where everyone believes the world might actually change by morning.

Not because they are optimistic. Because they are desperate enough to try anyway.

And somewhere in the crowd, between the red flags and existential collapse, there I am: a middle-aged felt revolutionary with a damp tweed suit and the vague suspicion that I missed my historical moment by about fifty years.

Americans: Why can’t we protect at like that?

I don’t know if some of y’all have memory loss but we did protest “like the French” in 2020 (George Floyd Protests) and got shit on and called thugs by the public,the media and politicians. People were seriously injured by police and other random people who wanted to be violent. We were told that peoples property was worth more than justice for a wrongfully taken like. So don’t bring that shit over here. Y’all just like the idea and look of protest but let it inconvenience or the message calls you out then then it’s not the right way to protest.

French Unions came together in protest. They cut power to their billionaires and gave it for free to people who need it.