For a week, cities across America have been theaters of dissent. The protesters are in the torched neighborhoods of Minneapolis. They are banging the barricades outside the White House, surging through New York’s Union Square, smashing shop windows in Beverly Hills.
The people giving voice to their anger are individual pieces of a movement, like drops of water to a wave. Their strength is in cohesiveness. Yet they are strangers, divided by geography, age, color and experience.
A 65-year-old black woman in Boston. The teenage daughter of undocumented immigrants in Los Angeles. A white stay-at-home mother from Austin, Texas.
They have all had enough.
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