Tatiana Swancy

Essays, Memoirs & True Stories

Driftless

Mike had grown up in a conservative rural town, and most of his family still lived in that area. His relatives tended to be more liberal than their neighbors, but there were differences between us. Some had told Mike they supported peaceful protesting, but not the rioting in Chicago and other cities, nor the looting that sometimes happened when groups of people marched through the city declaring that Black Lives Matter. It wasn’t like I supported rioting or looting either. That summer, I had shed silent tears the first time I’d ridden my bike down Milwaukee Avenue, one of Chicago’s busiest streets, past all the stores whose owners had preemptively boarded up their windows in case the protests turned violent. But I understood the protesters’ rage, because it was also mine. Sometimes, to make myself feel better, I fantasized about grabbing a baseball bat and ramming it through a window, any window, over and over and over again.

July 2025