On Wednesday morning, 18-year-old Gryphon Woodson drove an hour from her home in Ontario to downtown Los Angeles, motivated to protest ongoing federal immigration raids and President Donald Trump’s deployment of military personnel to the city.
It was Gryphon’s first-ever protest, and she came prepared with a pair of goggles and a black bandanna to cover her face. After witnessing videos of chaos in the streets throughout the week, she anticipated a large turnout of passionate demonstrators.
However, Woodson arrived early at the graffiti-covered Federal Building on Los Angeles Street around 11 a.m. Only clusters of police officers were present, standing at ease, sipping coffee and energy drinks, and engaged in casual conversations, creating an atmosphere that was far from the tumult she expected.
“I thought there were gonna be more people here,” Woodson expressed. “I thought people were going to be out, you know, during the day.”
By 6:30 p.m., the landscape had drastically changed. Los Angeles police officers on horseback charged at hundreds of protesters who had marched from Pershing Square to City Hall, knocking some to the ground while others faced rubber bullets fired into the crowd.
“It’s very disruptive to day-to-day life — the raids, the protest. Everything is destroyed!” lamented Saul Barnes, a 22-year-old whose family owns a nearby hotel. He hurriedly jogged away from a police officer wielding a baton, reflecting frustration on the state’s increasing unrest.
The dynamic in downtown Los Angeles fluctuated sharply throughout the week. Following Trump and Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth’s decision to deploy the National Guard and active-duty Marines to the area, a stark difference emerged between the peaceful daytime protests and the charged nighttime gatherings.
This lingering unrest has predominantly centered around the Civic Center, which houses City Hall, LAPD headquarters, and several courthouses. The area has faced heightened activity in recent times, compounded by already high office vacancy rates due to the lingering effects of the COVID-19 pandemic.
Notable incidents included protesters vandalizing driverless Waymo vehicles, throwing rocks and bottles at police and National Guard members, and shutting down a section of the 101 Freeway. Businesses nearby faced burglaries, and numerous buildings were defaced with messages such as “F— ICE,” “F— LAPD,” and “F— Trump,” including the iconic City Hall, a 1928 Art Deco structure.
An 8 p.m. to 6 a.m. curfew, enacted by the city, alongside calls from many protesters for non-violent engagement, seemed to mitigate some instances of late-night violence and property destruction.
In a series of remarks, President Donald Trump characterized Los Angeles as a “trash heap” in dire need of rescue from what he described as foreign invaders and rioters. He stated on Truth Social that without military intervention, the city would have descended into chaos, much like the devastation caused by fires that impacted the area earlier in the year.
For those present in downtown during the day, the reality starkly contrasted Trump’s depictions. A veteran LAPD officer noted a shift from calm to chaos, outlining how crowds typically began to form around 1 p.m. every day. Organized protests, such as those led by the Service Employees International Union, remained peaceful and demonstrative, a significant contrast to the later, more contentious gatherings.
In speaking with onlookers, one officer characterized the nighttime gatherings as filled with individuals looking to agitate, often calling them “the Mad Max crowd,” which he added, included a mix of teenagers and injury-prone participants.
Reginald Wheeler, a 62-year-old worker in homeless services, shared his experience attending protests each day after work. Reminiscing on the craziness of the daily protests, he described the different vibes experienced as the day transitioned into night, stating, “The more peaceful protesters tend to leave. They’ve got dinner to cook.”
Academic perspectives added depth to the situation’s analysis. Edward Maguire, a criminologist at Arizona State University, noted how “criminal offenders” could exploit the chaos of protests, and the nighttime ambiance allowed for an uptick in unrest, especially due to the presence of military personnel, which can provoke reactions as civilians resist the idea of troops deployed on their streets.
Calvin Morrill, a professor of law and sociology at UC Berkeley, indicated that most modern protests revolve around organized action, typically led by activists or community organizations. He emphasized that in Los Angeles, law enforcement’s reactions to perceived threats diverge from traditional responses, leading to a spectacle that amplifies fear and unrest as orchestrated by federal authorities.
The chaotic environment continued as early Monday evening saw police enforce dispersal orders near the Federal Building, resulting in violent clashes that exacerbated damage to local businesses, including the Japanese American National Museum. By daylight on Tuesday, community volunteers ventured downtown to clean the damage, showing contrasting community spirit amidst the protests.
Kimiko Carpenter, a West L.A. mother, mobilized to aid the museum after witnessing the destruction online. Fueled by personal ties to her heritage and a desire to contribute positively, she spent hours scrubbing graffiti from the historic building.
On Tuesday evening, as another large group of protesters mobilized under the leadership of faith figures, the tensions between demonstrators and law enforcement intensified. Clergy members gathered with intentions of prayer, yet faced a determined display of force from the Department of Homeland Security.
When the clock struck 8 p.m., the faith group vacated as curfew approached, while a smaller contingent remained behind, leading to further altercations reminiscent of earlier protests seen throughout the week.
The following morning, Woodson returned to the now quiet Federal Building, where she found herself among a few peers, predominantly overshadowed by the presence of journalists. With a firm resolve, she stated her intention, “My plan today was to make as much noise as possible.”
Woodson, as a representative voice of youth activism, called attention to the suppression faced by marginalized groups, emphasizing her refusal to remain silent amid the prevailing unrest.
Amid her chant, “Immigrants are not the problem! Immigrants are never the problem!” another young woman, 19-year-old Michelle Hernandez, joined her in the demonstration, driven by concern for her family amidst the immigration raids.
As they marched, Latino maintenance workers focused on cleaning away graffiti, unconcerned by the armed National Guard troops stationed nearby. One worker expressed relief regarding the military’s presence, believing it may have prevented further vandalism.
Meanwhile, George Dutton, a UCLA professor, stood alone with a sign advocating for constitutional rights while bearing witness to the protests’ ebb and flow as they unfolded each day.
Dutton remarked on the surreal contrast between the dramatic military presence and the quieter realities of the daytime, suggesting that the heightened visibility of soldiers was an exaggerated construct meant to fund a narrative focused on fear and aggression.
As the protest cycle unfolded in Los Angeles, the significant disparities between day and night demonstrated not only the local community’s efforts for change but the strains and tensions ignited by national political conflicts.
The challenges faced by protesters and the juxtaposition of peaceful efforts against nighttime violence emphasized the ongoing struggle within the city’s streets, highlighting both the fragility and resilience of civic engagement in the face of adversity.
image source from：https://www.latimes.com/california/story/2025-06-13/protests-ice-trump-day-night-difference
