Noise Over Neutrality

Silence in the face of violence is not neutral. When corporations allow unconstitutional actions to unfold on their property and respond with shrugs and carefully sanitized non-statements, that silence becomes complicity.

On Sunday, January 18, more than one hundred people gathered at a Home Depot in Los Angeles to demand accountability. The action, organized by Culver City and Friends Rising (CCAFR) and Show Up Culver City in support of the National Day Laborers Organizing Network (NDLON), was a direct response to ICE being allowed to operate on store property, placing day laborers at risk and turning retail parking lots across the country into sites of fear and surveillance.

The protest took place over MLK weekend intentionally. Dr. King understood that disruption was not a branding strategy. It was the lever that moved history. Visibility, economic pressure, and collective inconvenience have always been the bedrock of real change.

Three media outlets covered the demonstration. When the first wave of protesters entered the store, Home Depot shut it down. They sang inside as long as they could, then exited to loud applause from the crowd waiting outside. This was not symbolic theater. Closing a store creates immediate impact, sending a clear message that business as usual is not acceptable when human dignity is at stake.

By the time I arrived, the doors were already shut.

Part of me felt relief. No tense standoff. No dramatic dash through sliding doors. No grabbing an ice scraper, or in our very LA version, a putty knife, only to immediately turn around and return it as a way of creating chaos. But my body was still buzzing with what-ifs. What if this escalates anyway? What if someone decides to make an example of us? What if the police are called in, or worse, ICE shows up?

I was scared. This wasn’t a typical protest. This was creating friction, taking up space where we were not invited, and being louder than decorum prefers. I am not wired for rule-breaking. I like order. I like predictability. I like knowing exactly how things are supposed to go. The thought of being arrested, especially while trying to secure my next paycheck, was extremely unappealing. And, frankly, I enjoy boring normalcy more than I like to admit.

A few of the leaders could sense my anxiety. One of them pulled me into a hug. No speech. Just kindness and steady reassurance. A reminder that I wasn’t alone and that vulnerability is not weakness.

Even though I missed the most dramatic moment inside the store and felt real fear, showing up still counted. The conversations mattered. Standing shoulder to shoulder carried weight. This is how movements grow, through people choosing collective presence over personal comfort.

With every action, we get braver, not because the fear disappears, but because the cost of staying silent is too high.

So, I keep showing up!