Heather-Emily and Jennifer - Chris Cearnal Photography

Heather is thoughtful and serious. A veteran who grew up in Fallon, Nevada she is careful with her words and meticulous in her physical presentation. She is organized and professional in her correspondence and careful to confirm any upcoming appointments. She is a proud transgender woman and a committed medic and activist for disability rights and the Black Lives Matter Movement. Eric talks fast. He hasn't been around much for the protests but is making an effort. Jennifer is mute. She doesn't speak, but signs with increasing fluency and has recently served as a sign-language interpreter for speakers at the Portland protests. Emily is sixteen, whip-smart, and creative. She likes to draw and work on computers. Katie is six, shy, and easily frightened. She loves giant stuffed animals and hates loud noises.

All of these people share Heather's body through her diagnosis of DID or dissociative identity disorder. She describes the identities as her "system" or colloquially as the "others." When asked about how the "others" manage memories, Heather explained that it works like a library. Common memories are stored in the main wing, where anyone can access them. Each identity keeps private memories in stacks to the side, just for their use. When Heather's Heather identity left for several weeks after she had begun planning her friend Amanda's 2022 Congressional campaign, Emily took over despite her young age. "Luckily, most of the things related to Congress are in a shared memory space" "It's tough, though." "I didn't know anything about elections at all." "But I'm a fast learner." It's important to understand that when Heather's identities switch, you are speaking to an entirely different person with unique mannerisms and an individual perspective. The identities negotiate for time to communicate with the world and are sometimes allowed to watch while another other is "out." This is called co-consciousness, Heather explains. "most of the time they won't, especially if they're scared, if they get scared, they lockdown and then it's hard for everyone." Heather uses the pronoun she and so I speak of her in the singular. Because Katie and Jennifer had several bad experiences at the protests, she is taking some time away.

Emily was gifted a hand cycle that she races at the Portland International Raceway. When COVID-19 restrictions are relaxed she hopes to race again. She trains by riding around Portland late at night when there are fewer cars and she can enjoy the speed.

While Amanda cooks a combination birthday and Thanksgiving dinner Eric describes the police coming to Heather's house the day before and threatening to arrest her if she did not tell what she knows about protesters attending recent direct action events. Amanda eventually asks Eric if Heather can come out for awhile and he reluctantly relents saying, "but I just learned all the words to all of the protest chants, 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11-f**k-12"

Emily gathers supplies in her apartment. She recently misplaced her medic bag making it nearly impossible for her to support the protests with her Army-gained medical expertise.

On September 26, 2020 a rally with large numbers of Proud Boys was expected in North Portland. Black Lives Matter organized a counter protest with music and speakers on the former site of Vanport. Vanport is a historically diverse community of shipbuilders that was wiped out in a devastating rainstorm-induced flood in 1948. Before rain breached the dikes protecting the town, officials removed racehorses from the local track but issued no warnings to the community. 6,300 black residents were washed out of their homes. The September counterprotest featured speakers and drumming. There was no direct contact between the fewer than 200 far-right Proud Boys and Black Lives Matter supporters.

Heather-Emily-Jennifer-Eric and Katie's Story in her Words.

I was down at the protests, and one person, in particular, came up to me and talked to me about inspiration. Being an inspiration. She was like, you know I saw you guys {Heather and her friend Amanda} on Youtube down here, and she was like, if you can do it, then I can do it.

She's got traumatic brain injuries. She worried about going down there, but she came.

Me, I support the movement as a medic.

If you look at my setup, I do not have anything, you know, offensive. I do not have anything that could be considered violent.

All I have is this medic kit, medical supplies in my backpack, my gas mask, a couple of lights, and things like that.

I go down there to help.

The police came to my house last week, and they asked me about the names of people protesting. I told them I have a hard enough time remembering the names in my own self, and down there at the protest; everyone uses pseudonyms any way. I didn't say anything.

Emily

Eric

Jennifer

Heather

I remember one of the first ones, the protests that I went to and stayed or tried to stay all the way through. Umm, we were at the medic tent that night. I had, uh, one of the insecticide sprayers with water. I had one of those.

I was spraying the medic tent to try to dissolve the, uh, tear gas, so you know the medics could still work. Cause that's all I could do by then. I tried to hold on as long as I could, and it finally got too bad, and I switched,

{another identity came out}

and, um, I started. I was like, ok, no, I've got to go. It's too bad. I don't remember her name.

The someone in the tent that was kind of looking out for me, you know, had my back and everything. I was like, I gotta go! I gotta go.

That person grabbed my wheelchair and just started rolling me out, and that's when I switched.

And Jennifer came out.

The one who is mute. (Jennifer communicates only in sign and cannot speak)

When we got away from the tear gas, they were rinsing me off and everything, and she, Jennifer's freaking out and everything.

After that, it seemed like at every protest, I would switch. When Katie {the six-year old} or Jennifer comes out, it is very difficult. They struggle to communicate, and people don't really understand.

Am I {Heather} able to watch when Jennifer is out? Sometimes I {Heather} can see what is going on. That's called co-conning or co-consciousness. Sometimes I'm able to or allowed to. It's like if you want to share your computer screen with my computer, it's gotta be authorized both ways as well. It's the same thing with co-conning.

Katie wanted a bear or a dog, I can't remember. She is little and really wanted a giant stuffed animal, so I got one for me {Heather} and one for Katie, but when we moved to Portland, I could only take one, so we took hers. It helps calm her down.

Katie's bear is draped over the couch in Heather's apartment on Thursday, October 22, 2020. At only six, Katie is the youngest identity in what Heather calls her "system". She frightens easily and often comes out when there is a loud noise or tear gas exposure at the protests. Her appearance poses a significant risk to Heather in these situations as she may not understand or respond predictably to law enforcement's demands.

"It's ok Katie" "It's ok" Amanda reassures Katie, Heather's six year old identity from the kitchen when she suddenly cowers as the smoke alarm beeps loudly on Sunday, November 29, 2020. Keagan, Amanda's son waves a blanket at the fire alarm to clear the smoke. Moments later Heather returns confused and uncertain of what just happened. When Heather's identities switch they may or not fully understand what just transpired or remember the previous conversation.

Most of the times, they {the others in Heather's system} won't let any one else out, especially if they're scared. If they get scared, they get locked down, and then it is hard for everyone.

After {the first frightening tear gas episode} I'd stay at the protests until they {the police} were getting ready to open fire, and then I'd have to take off.

When the cops lob off tear gas and non-lethal rounds, and you know start rushing us, sometimes my gas, uh, my gas mask won't seal right.

And it starts filling up my mask.

I can't breathe.

I can't see.

I just wave my arms like this, and someone grabs my wheelchair, and they push me out of there really fast.

If I switch, I might not be able to speak, but there's always someone there to, you know, have your back to make sure you're ok. Always someone there to help.

It's like a family.

When they ask at the protests, does anyone want to speak to the protesters? We don't go up there because it's not about us.

It's about the movement, and we are there to support them. We are there to help out in any way we can, but it's not our place {to speak}. And it's not about us. It's about the movement.

It makes me think of something back when I was in the army. The military was a big part of my life. In order to become a non-commissioned officer or an E 5 or above, one of the main rules you have to follow is that you cannot ask your subordinates or your privates to do anything you have not already done yourself or you are not willing to do yourself.

Heather and Amanda discuss Amanda's upcoming Congressional campaign on Wednesday, September 9, 2020. Heather is Amanda's campaign manager. "If you had come up to me a year ago and told me what I'd be doing now. As {Amanda's} campaign manager and being in politics, I'd have wanted to laugh in your face.I could not see getting behind someone that I believed in enough until I met her "

Before they head out each night, Heather and Amanda meticulously inventory the contents of their medic bags and restock on Tuesday, September 29, 2020. The majority of the injuries they help treat result from teargas exposure but some medic groups have begun to teach courses in gun shot response. They fill almost instantly.

Heather and AJ pack medical supplies and discuss the best eye wipes to counter tear-gas. on Tuesday, September 29, 2020.There is an intense debate among the protesters about what constitutes the most effective immediate treatment for teargas exposure. Many people have their own recipe mixed at home and bottled or added to ziplock bags of baby wipes.

The only other time I had such strong bonds like this was when I was in the army, especially in my platoon, you know. They became like brothers and sisters to me. I knew no matter what, if I absolutely needed them, there were a good dozen people I could call any time of the day. Any time of the night, any day of the week, they'll be there. It's the same with these guys. If I needed something, I can call Amanda and say, look, I need help now.

Sorry, I need help.

If I'm in a bad place, they'd be there, or they would find someone else to be there. You know, they're good people.

When you're trying to fit into a group, and there's a specific leader.

I see that person, and I'm like, am I like that person?

Do me and that person have a lot of things in common? If no, then I'm probably not going to, you know, join a movement because I am not like their leader. But if there is no specific leader, you're like, hey; there's someone in this group that's like me—for example, Amanda. I mean, we are both in wheelchairs. That makes me feel empowered because I'm like look. I can do this too, you know? I'm part of a group. This has become my family. I mean, she already was my family, but now my family has grown.

If you had come up to me a year ago and told me what I'd be doing now. As {Amanda's} campaign manager and being in politics, I'd have wanted to laugh in your face. No way. You're crazy, you know? I could not see getting behind someone that I believed in enough until I met her. I met her on the Max going down to a protest, and the next day we spent like six hours together. We had both protested at Standing Rock but did not meet there.

I get something like $286 a month 20% disability through the VA. I've been denied three times for disability. One, two, three, four times. Excuse me. I mean, come on. It's outrageous.

The Food Stamp office on the Eastside, try going into that, just getting in, in a wheelchair. Good luck. Yeah. It's impossible.

Just go down to 10th Avenue and look at how many businesses have steps to get into them. There are so many businesses that I can't go into simply because they have steps. I can get up, you know, like small steps, but I shouldn't have to because not everyone is agile in a wheelchair.

I was, you know, self-cutting with the trauma.

I was worried that I might bleed too much.

You know it's dangerous.

I was scared that something could happen, that I could bleed, and then I thought about the idea of tattooing. It has nearly the same effect, and instead of danger and damage, it's beautiful. I watched a lot of YouTube videos and taught myself.

Heather gives herself a tattoo on Monday, November 2, 2020.Heather and her identities began to develop concerning signs of trauma after dozens of nights of protest and interactions with police. In an attempt to grapple with the feelings she began self-cutting in an escalating manner that left her scarred and worried about accidentally causing a dangerous bleed. She came across veterans on Youtube giving themselves tattoos and decided to turn a destructive impulse into an act of creativity. Since she began self-tattooing her self-cutting seems to have resolved.

Emily tattoos puzzle pieces on her lower abdomen as a representation of those she refers to as her "others" all fitting together in her "system" on Monday, November 2, 2020.

Heather leaves her apartment on Tuesday, October 27, 2020 to check the mail. As a veteran the VA is a significant part of Heather's life. She has recently given up cooking any food that isn't a frozen meal. While cooking Cup O' Soup there was a spill and she was severely burned. She was treated at the VA and upon her release experienced an episode of euphoria that led to a dramatic wheelchair crash returning her to the hospital within hours.

Not having a specific leader and not having to ask, I think it's easier for people to step in because it's more inclusive because, you know, if you're like anyone in the group, then it's ok. The chances are that there's someone in the group just like you, and it makes you feel more included every time I've gone down there.

Let's say when we go out to the protests tonight, and the protesters are lined up, and the cops are lined up, if the governor walks out, walks in front of the car, and says: I'd like to start a conversation. I'd like to see if we can come to an agreement. We would agree.

We want conversations to start. We want negotiations.

We want things to change.

We want reform. And that's the way it is going to start is with conversation.