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How a team of volunteers came together to protect St. Pete protesters

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“They are our shield,” St. Pete Peace Protest leader Terron Gland said. “They have it in their heart to put their life on the line and let us use our voices instead.”ST. PETERSBURG — Tate Leigh can’t distinguish between the bike chain grease and the bruises on her body.Both come from countless miles logged on a bike as she’s ridden in almost every protest that’s marched through St. Petersburg in the wake of George Floyd’s death on May 25. Leigh, 29, has joined hundreds of others in seeking racial justice and calling for an end to police brutality. But she’s never picked up a megaphone. That’s not her role, Leigh said.Instead, she and a group of about 50 others, a number of them white, have volunteered the last couple weeks to help manage logistics for marches that depart twice daily from City Hall. They tackle everything from determining the route to blocking traffic at intersections and dealing with instigators who might try to cause harm.At first, St. Petersburg police officers were helping coordinate traffic as protesters marched by. But that stopped a few days in. Now, the duty rests with volunteers on the bike and traffic management teams.When the marches start, they pedal ahead to scout traffic, stop cars at crossroads and block other vehicles from overtaking the crowd from behind. They loop and dash, sprint forward and dart back.“They are our shield,” St. Pete Peace Protest leader Terron Gland told the Tampa Bay Times. “They have it in their heart to put their life on the line and let us use our voices instead.”Gland said the operations team, which is speared by group vice president Ian Tuma, addresses safety and traffic so he and other leaders can focus on the spirit and vision of the movement.“They can’t understand how we feel about living in our skin,” Gland said, “but they know how we feel after witnessing, listening and seeing us go through that.”Tuma, 28, and others help facilitate the daily grind and logistics behind the protests so that leaders like Gland have one less thing to worry about. No one was appointed. Instead, the roles came about naturally, Tuma said.“It very organically kind of happened the first couple days when I was out there and saw the need for traffic control,” said Leigh, one of the three bike leads. “We had a few bicycles...and it was all just improv and emotions and really raw and beautiful. As the days progressed, people kind of stepped into the roles that they’re there to do.”Some of them, like Tuma and Leigh, have experience managing crowds and running operations for music festivals. Others are former military or security professionals. There’s yoga instructors, doctors and lawyers. And some simply have a bike, a helmet and a willingness to help.“To me, it felt like a meaningful way to contribute,” Sara Phillips, 32, said. “I wanted to make a difference, but also not tread on what they’re trying to do. It’s their time to talk and their time to be heard.”Subscribe to our free DayStarter newsletterWe’ll deliver the latest news and information you need to know every weekday morning.Loading...Want more of our free, weekly newsletters&nbsp;in&nbsp;your&nbsp;inbox? Let’s&nbsp;get&nbsp;started.• • •There’s a lot that goes in to planning twice-daily protests that bring together anywhere from 75 to 250 people at a time. Routes. Weather. Safety. Heat. Conflict. Supplies. Tuma said it’s all on his mind as he prepares for each march.Gland and other leaders decide what neighborhoods to march through each day, then Tuma and his team sketch out the route.Lately, they’ve been favoring one-way streets to avoid on-coming traffic. During the 2 p.m. marches, they search for roads with shade. The heat index has surged to 100 and higher, bringing concerns of heat stroke and fatigue."The main thing is safety,” said Tuma, who works in event operations for music festivals. “Our main concern is people driving their cars into protesters and hurting innocent, peaceful people.”That’s where the bike riders come in. They monitor the perimeter of the march, a few sporting reflective vests and others using white and blue fairy lights to brighten their handlebars and frames. Several have “Black Lives Matters” signs wound through their spokes.The bike team is instructed to dismount at intersections and hold the bike between their body and oncoming traffic. If a car accelerates, the goal is to throw the bike forward and buy a couple extra seconds to get out of the way.A bike won’t stop a car, but it will slow it down, Tuma told a group of volunteers gathered Thursday night in front of City Hall before that evening’s march.There was a learning curve, and adjustments are still being made. Cars would sometimes zip around them and drive aggressively when they left a lane or two open. Now they’re more inclined to block the whole road.It’s tiring work. Thursday’s evening march logged 6.3 miles. And while bikes spare the team from walking, there’s other discomforts that come from riding. Leigh used the stock seat on her first ride, “which was absolutely no cushion," she said. “The next march, I couldn’t even sit down on my seat anymore.”The next day, she had multiple people reach out to offer their seats, cushions and bikes to help make the crew more comfortable.There have been some instances of aggression, volunteers said. Jake Barsness, a member of the bike team, said there were two times where a person in a car, frustrated because the group was stopping traffic, brandished a gun.Barsness, 32, and others reported one of those instances to police, who confirmed they have a report of an incident in the 1000 block of First Avenue N on Tuesday. No arrests have been made.Phillips has volunteered with the bike team a few times and said she feels it is her duty as a white protester to put herself between the black protesters and the people who might do them harm.“People unfortunately are going to think a little more before they run their car into a white person instead of a black person,” said Phillips, who is one of the volunteers who blocks intersections as others march past. “It’s hard to say some of these things, but unfortunately, it’s reality.”She attached a cardboard sign to the front of her bike that says, “Silence = compliance.” It mostly serves as a reminder to herself, she said. “I’ve been silent for a really long time.”Tuma said the operations team is also on the lookout for instigators within the crowd. Organizers have been clear in their message of remaining peaceful at all times. When protesters have thrown water bottles or started shouting at cars, others in the crowd confront them, calling for peace and calm instead.“In the beginning, there were people that were wanting to come out just for violence," Tuma said. “They might have had ideals that were aligned with the causes, but they weren’t agreeing with the peaceful protest. This protest, the people are angry, but we’re peaceful.”Tuma is developing a group within the operations team, called rangers, that will focus on de-escalation and minimizing conflict. When tension points do occur, the team works to redirect the energy and keep the crowd marching forward.“We don’t want to chase after it," Barsness said. “Our major plan is to de-escalate, and if something does happen, we want to have it on video and make sure we have our own legal record of it.”This site no longer supports your current browser. Please use a modern and up-to-date browser version for the best experience. — — —

“They are our shield,” St. Pete Peace Protest leader Terron Gland said. “They have it in their heart to put their life on the line and let us use our voices instead.”ST. PETERSBURG — Tate Leigh can’t distinguish between the bike chain grease and the bruises on her body.Both come from countless miles logged on a bike as she’s ridden in almost every protest that’s marched through St. Petersburg in the wake of George Floyd’s death on May 25. Leigh, 29, has joined hundreds of others in seeking racial justice and calling for an end to police brutality. But she’s never picked up a megaphone....

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Caitlin Johnston

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How a team of volunteers came together to protect St. Pete protesters

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