Like many people who enjoy TV drama series, I’m watching the fourth season of Hulu’s The Bear. The show offers lots of compelling elements: authentic character development, realistic workplace dynamics, and narratives that resonate with broader contemporary social issues.
Besides Carmen (played by Jeremy Allen White), the haute cuisine trained chef who returns home to Chicago to run, and later transform, The Beef, his deceased brother Mikey’s struggling restaurant, into a Michelin star worthy spot, another notable character is Richie.
Not only was Richie (performed by Ebon Moss-Bachrach) Mikey’s employee, but he was his closest friend. He’s navigating a sense of loss, including his divorce, co-parenting his young daughter with his ex-wife and soon-to-be new husband, feelings of being a loser, and a profound sense of displacement in a rapidly changing world.
In many ways, Richie is representative of many working-class men caught between economic marginalization and personal crisis.
The fact is, there are countless individuals whose life trajectories mirror Richie’s struggles. And the common thread isn’t the specific nature of their trauma, whether it stems from childhood abuse, neglect, combat exposure, or economic underachievement or work displacement, but rather their response to unresolved psychological wounds. Whether real or perceived, these wounds can leave lasting, debilitating effects.
What often separates people is not the cause of their trauma or even how they interpret it, but how they deal with it.
Some turn to religion or spiritual practices to cope with the lasting effects of their distress. Others become workaholics, or throw themselves into their careers, hoping that professional achievement will provide validation and perhaps distract them from their pain. Still others cope by drinking heavily or using drugs to temporarily numb the pain or confusion; strategies that may sustain them for years but inevitably compound their underlying problems.
Meanwhile, as the saying goes, “the body keeps the score.” These unaddressed psychological wounds manifest in physical health problems, creating a cascading series of complications that, over time, become increasingly difficult to manage.
During my work with currently or formerly incarcerated people, the more empathetic staff often observed that many inmates were simply individuals who had exhausted their coping mechanisms. The phrase, “There but for the grace of God go I,” reflected an understanding that with enough stress, trauma, and insufficient support, any of us could find ourselves in similar circumstances.
What distinguishes The Bear from other workplace dramas is its nuanced portrayal of how trauma affects different individuals within the same environment. While Carmen participates in grief counseling, specifically a support group for those who have lost loved ones to suicide, other characters like Richie (short of journaling and reading philosophy) appear to be managing their emotional difficulties without professional intervention.
This reflects a broader pattern in American society where mental health resources are underutilized, particularly among working-class men, who may view seeking this type of help as a weakness or who lack access to affordable treatment options.
It’s important to recognize that maladaptive responses to unresolved anger and unaddressed trauma are not character flaws. The difference between those who recover and those who remain trapped in destructive patterns often comes down to access to appropriate intervention and support systems.
The Bear doesn’t offer simplistic solutions for people struggling with trauma and related issues, but it does show that many damaged individuals can begin to heal through authentic human connections and being honest about themselves and others. The show’s strength here lies in its recognition that recovery is not a linear process and that meaningful change requires both individual effort and a network of support (e.g., co-workers and selected family members).
Richie’s character serves as a reminder that behind every person struggling with anger, addiction, or antisocial behavior lies a human being dealing with pain they may not fully understand. Rather than dismissing such individuals as hopeless cases, we might consider how our communities can better support those who are fighting battles that aren’t immediately visible.
The lesson here extends beyond fictional portrayals of the inner workings of struggling restaurants and their employees. In our daily lives, we encounter people whose behavior reflects their underlying struggles with trauma and loss. Responding with empathy rather than judgment, and an understanding that professional help is both available and necessary, may be the difference between someone finding a path forward or remaining trapped in destructive patterns.
https://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/Screenshot-2025-06-30-at-1.44.39 PM.png596904Jeffrey Ian Rosshttps://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/jeffrey-ian-ross-logo-04.pngJeffrey Ian Ross2025-06-30 17:23:302025-06-30 18:10:54Everybody Knows a Richie
Since winning the presidency a second time, Trump and his administration have engaged in a series of actions that have negatively impacted U.S. universities and professors. These include, but are not limited to, rescinding key DEI mandates, withholding federal research and grants funding, restricting international students and visas, investigating university responses to anti-semitism, reforming educational institution accreditation, and dismantling the Department of Education.
Many professors, university leaders, and administrators are predictably worried about this assault on post-secondary education. They find their research defunded, their institutions threatened, and their international students caught in bureaucratic visa limbo. The challenge to “academic freedom” is constantly lurking in the shadows.
At the same time, we are reading stories about high-profile US scholars like Timothy Snyder and Jason Stanley, among others, who are moving to Canada, and how a select number of European universities and countries are developing programs to attract or recruit US-based academics.
But before you quit your academic job, pack your bags (not to mention uproot your family, etc., etc., etc.), here are some workplace and career issues to consider.
Can you speak a foreign language (or are you willing to learn)?
If you didn’t grow up speaking the language of the country you’re targeting, expect real challenges. Limiting yourself to English-speaking countries will narrow your job opportunities. While English is the lingua franca of academia and many foreign scholars speak it well, you’ll never match native fluency in the local language. Sure, translation tools can help with documents, but navigating daily life, university bureaucracy, and informal academic networks is another story.
What does your international academic network look like?
It’s important to recognize that many of the academics featured in news media reports about relocating abroad already had long-standing research collaborations and institutional ties in the countries and universities they’re moving to. These connections are making the desirability of moving and transitions significantly smoother than they might be for others without this kind of resource.
Have you ever lived or worked in academia outside the United States?
If your international experience is limited to attending academic conferences or brief summer vacations to Europe, a Christmas vacation in Acapulco, or a ski weekend in Quebec, you may be surprised by how different it is to live and work abroad long-term. Being a tourist or a visiting scholar is no substitute for the realities of everyday life in a foreign country. The differences are significant, especially when navigating unfamiliar bureaucracies, adapting to new professional norms, or handling day-to-day needs like housing, transportation, and healthcare.
What Immigration Challenges Might You Face?
Immigration laws and employment policies vary widely by country. Some universities offer legal support for securing work visas, paths to citizenship, etc., but many do not. In those cases, the responsibility and cost typically fall on the candidate. Do you have the financial resources, and are they readily available to cover legal fees, visa applications, and associated relocation expenses? Do you have the patience to deal with local bureaucracies, many of whom are hostile to foreigners?
What is Academic Culture Like Outside the United States?
Academic norms in Anglo-American countries (e.g., Canada, United States, United Kingdom, Australia, etc.) are pretty much the same, but those in other countries often differ significantly from the U.S. system. Expectations around research productivity, access to funding, and institutional hierarchies can be strikingly different. Salaries are generally lower in most European countries, though this is often offset by more robust social safety nets that provide national healthcare, public education, and pension systems. However, these benefits may not fully compensate for the income loss, particularly for mid-career or senior academics accustomed to U.S. salary scales.
What does academic Life Abroad Look Like?
Yes, many European academics take the entire month of August off, and the work-life balance can seem enviable. But academia is under pressure in many countries. Public support is often waning. Some would argue it was never particularly strong, and scholars are increasingly cast as out-of-touch elites who contribute little of practical value to society. The same sorts of dynamics regarding post-secondary higher education that are hitting the United States are present, but with less intensity, in other countries.
What is the Job Availability Like in Foreign Countries?
To begin with, not all countries financially support university education. In some countries, particularly those that are considered less developed, professors are not paid what would be considered a living wage. Thus, it is not uncommon for academics in these locations to hold an outside job. This means that the academic position at a university is considered more like a hobby or a secondary employment.
Meanwhile, about a decade ago, it was common to hear newly minted PhDs from Belgium, France, Italy, or Spain say that the only way they’d get a full-time academic job in their home country was if a professor died. Why? Academic positions were limited and centrally controlled by the state. While the situation has evolved somewhat since then, it hasn’t improved dramatically.
Also, the demand for scholars with expertise in STEM fields, especially engineering and computer science, is significantly higher than for those specializing in the humanities. In Europe, just like in the United States, the job market is saturated with humanities scholars. Many with advanced training in Cultural. Literary, Political, or Social Theory, or similar areas, are either stuck in long academic job queues or working in the service industry as gig workers.
For foreign professors, especially those without established international reputations, opportunities remain quite limited. Many professors and graduate students underestimate just how competitive foreign academic environments are. After some time, you may find yourself running into serious, often unspoken, job and career challenges. Chief among them: you’re trying to break into entrenched local scholarly networks. The old-boy systems you may have benefited from (and also resented) in the U.S. are alive and well in most countries.
In practice, this means local PhDs and postdocs are frequently favored. Even highly qualified outsiders may be viewed with indifference or even suspicion.
Additionally, many countries impose age caps on academic positions. I’ve seen highly talented European scholars essentially forced into early retirement due to government regulations. Often, the best they can hope for is a nice farewell party and a Festschrift no one reads.
Wrapping Out
So while an academic position outside of the United States may appear attractive, they are neither easy to land nor free of complications. If you’re not already internationally connected or highly visible in your field, the road overseas may be steeper and less stable than you were hoping for.
I’m not suggesting that professors should abandon the option of seeking higher education employment outside of the United States, but rather a suggestion to think more carefully about this decision.
Photo Credit
Photographer: Weegee
Title: Drunk (1940)
https://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/Screenshot-2025-06-21-at-11.17.04 AM.png14961488Jeffrey Ian Rosshttps://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/jeffrey-ian-ross-logo-04.pngJeffrey Ian Ross2025-06-22 12:14:542025-06-22 12:42:16Sobering Thoughts About Academics Considering Escaping the United States
Almost every major contemporary protest in the United States is accompanied by illegal graffiti and street art. The recent (June 2025) demonstrations against the presence and activities of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) officers in Los Angeles (not to mention the deployment of 700 National Guardsmen) are no different. The Trump administration has pointed to the defacement of federal property as justification for deploying federal agents, adding another layer of political consequence to the use of graffiti and street art.
Meanwhile, graffiti and street art is hardly a new phenomenon in Los Angeles. The city has a deeply rooted graffiti culture. Scholars like Susan A. Phillips, in her book The City Beneath: A Century of Los Angeles Graffiti, have chronicled its evolution over the past century, noting how this kind of public writing in the city has ranged from hobos to soldiers, to territorial tagging. Graffiti writers like Chaz Bojórquez, CISCO, Hex TGO, Slick, OG Slick, Risk, and Tempt One have become synonymous with LA’s graffiti legacy.
In general, when examining this kind of urban public art, several interrelated questions arise: What is the context? Who is creating it? What are their targets? What types of graffiti or street art are present? Where is it located? What messages does it convey? And how have audiences responded? Together, these questions can help us identify patterns and draw meaningful conclusions.
Keep in mind that not all of these questions can be answered immediately, especially in a blog post like this one. Depending on the significance of a case study, it’s often necessary to do a more formal street ethnography.
Who is doing this and against what entity is the graffiti directed?
Determining who specifically engages in graffiti and street art is challenging. In simplest terms, the perpetrators of graffiti (and occasional street art) in Los Angeles (and elsewhere), likely include protesters themselves, particularly those angered by the Trump administration’s renewed emphasis on immigration enforcement, the visual and visceral displays of police power, and federal law enforcement in sanctuary cities.
In addition to ICE, the content of the graffiti has been directed towards Mayor Karen Bass and President Trump.
Where has it been placed?
Predictably, the graffiti was geographically concentrated downtown, near the epicenter of the protest. This included federal buildings, civic landmarks, historic structures, and urban infrastructure. The majority of the graffiti could be seen on or close to the federal building where ICE detainees are located, the Edward Roybal Federal Building, and the Department of Homeland Security/ICE building.
Graffiti was applied not just to the prominent federal buildings, but it was also placed on the walls of Fletcher Bowron Square, the Los Angeles County Law Library, and the former Los Angeles Times building.
Highway overpasses were also marked with graffiti, and many small businesses were similarly hit. And, when plywood was installed over windows of buildings to prevent breakage, it inadvertently created fresh canvases for graffiti artists.
One of the more visually arresting images was the graffiti-laden Waymo cars that were also set on fire.
What was the content?
The graffiti was directed at several figures and institutions. Most of the pieces are what would be considered expletive-laden wall writing or sloganeering directed towards ICE, the Los Angeles Police Department, and Trump. In the first instance, there has been multiple Fuck ICE, and “Death 2 ICE.” visible on surfaces.
Other graffiti was aimed at President Trump, such as “Remove Trumps head!!” “Trump is scum” and predictably “Kill Trump.”
Meanwhile, some pro-migrant statements could be seen across downtown Los Angeles such as “Return the homies,” and “Immigrants rule the world.”
On social media, we saw photos of a whole train painted with the slogan “Fuck ICE” that was sitting untouched for days. While much of this graffiti leaned toward aggressive sloganeering, it reflects a broader language of confrontation rather than nuanced symbolism.
Interpreting the Visual Landscape
Besides the graffiti, the Anti-ICE protests in Los Angeles were highly visual. From the clothing worn by demonstrators, to the signs carried, to the burned-out Waymo autonomous vehicles. These elements contributed to an almost post-apocalyptic urban atmosphere that resembled a scene from Blade Runner.
While most of the graffiti was text-based, its form and materiality are relevant. The boldness of the lettering, where it was placed, and its juxtaposition against the concrete surfaces of downtown Los Angeles create a unique visceral aesthetic. These elements contributed to a confrontation with the symbols of power and authority used to govern.
If protest graffiti evolves in stages, then the June 2025 actions represent an early, expressive phase. For now, much of the visual language is text-heavy and emotionally charged, rather than graphically sophisticated. However, as the movement matures, we may witness an expansion in participants and locations, not to mention the form (i.e., more street art), styles, and strategy, incorporating unique iconography.
All in all, the visual landscape of the June 2025 protests demands a broader interpretation, as part of a longer continuum of visual resistance. From Covid-related graffiti to the anti-Russian invasion of Ukraine urban art, graffiti, and street art is a mix of urban expression, and a way to document contemporary history.
The graffiti that emerges during these urban protests is not simply defacement, it is an expression of resistance that is visible (often ephemerally) in spaces designed to suppress it.
It signals not just anger, but solidarity, and ideological positions to others. It is also territorial because it momentarily redefines ownership, purpose, and meaning in spaces of power.
Whether these markings will linger or be co-opted is unknown.
But what is clear is that this moment reflects and reinforces the importance of visual politics in urban public space, one in which protest graffiti is not marginal, but central.
https://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/Screenshot-2025-06-15-at-8.02.07 AM.png7461316Jeffrey Ian Rosshttps://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/jeffrey-ian-ross-logo-04.pngJeffrey Ian Ross2025-06-15 12:42:242025-10-19 17:42:08Reflections on Graffiti From the LA Anti-ICE Protests
Everybody Knows a Richie
/by Jeffrey Ian RossLike many people who enjoy TV drama series, I’m watching the fourth season of Hulu’s The Bear. The show offers lots of compelling elements: authentic character development, realistic workplace dynamics, and narratives that resonate with broader contemporary social issues.
Besides Carmen (played by Jeremy Allen White), the haute cuisine trained chef who returns home to Chicago to run, and later transform, The Beef, his deceased brother Mikey’s struggling restaurant, into a Michelin star worthy spot, another notable character is Richie.
Not only was Richie (performed by Ebon Moss-Bachrach) Mikey’s employee, but he was his closest friend. He’s navigating a sense of loss, including his divorce, co-parenting his young daughter with his ex-wife and soon-to-be new husband, feelings of being a loser, and a profound sense of displacement in a rapidly changing world.
In many ways, Richie is representative of many working-class men caught between economic marginalization and personal crisis.
The fact is, there are countless individuals whose life trajectories mirror Richie’s struggles. And the common thread isn’t the specific nature of their trauma, whether it stems from childhood abuse, neglect, combat exposure, or economic underachievement or work displacement, but rather their response to unresolved psychological wounds. Whether real or perceived, these wounds can leave lasting, debilitating effects.
What often separates people is not the cause of their trauma or even how they interpret it, but how they deal with it.
Some turn to religion or spiritual practices to cope with the lasting effects of their distress. Others become workaholics, or throw themselves into their careers, hoping that professional achievement will provide validation and perhaps distract them from their pain. Still others cope by drinking heavily or using drugs to temporarily numb the pain or confusion; strategies that may sustain them for years but inevitably compound their underlying problems.
The consequences of these coping strategies are predictable. They include depression, deteriorating work performance, missed deadlines, social isolation, and forgotten important events. They may also have repeated contact with the criminal justice system through arrests for drunk driving, domestic violence, or other manifestations of poor anger management.
Meanwhile, as the saying goes, “the body keeps the score.” These unaddressed psychological wounds manifest in physical health problems, creating a cascading series of complications that, over time, become increasingly difficult to manage.
During my work with currently or formerly incarcerated people, the more empathetic staff often observed that many inmates were simply individuals who had exhausted their coping mechanisms. The phrase, “There but for the grace of God go I,” reflected an understanding that with enough stress, trauma, and insufficient support, any of us could find ourselves in similar circumstances.
What distinguishes The Bear from other workplace dramas is its nuanced portrayal of how trauma affects different individuals within the same environment. While Carmen participates in grief counseling, specifically a support group for those who have lost loved ones to suicide, other characters like Richie (short of journaling and reading philosophy) appear to be managing their emotional difficulties without professional intervention.
This reflects a broader pattern in American society where mental health resources are underutilized, particularly among working-class men, who may view seeking this type of help as a weakness or who lack access to affordable treatment options.
It’s important to recognize that maladaptive responses to unresolved anger and unaddressed trauma are not character flaws. The difference between those who recover and those who remain trapped in destructive patterns often comes down to access to appropriate intervention and support systems.
The Bear doesn’t offer simplistic solutions for people struggling with trauma and related issues, but it does show that many damaged individuals can begin to heal through authentic human connections and being honest about themselves and others. The show’s strength here lies in its recognition that recovery is not a linear process and that meaningful change requires both individual effort and a network of support (e.g., co-workers and selected family members).
Richie’s character serves as a reminder that behind every person struggling with anger, addiction, or antisocial behavior lies a human being dealing with pain they may not fully understand. Rather than dismissing such individuals as hopeless cases, we might consider how our communities can better support those who are fighting battles that aren’t immediately visible.
The lesson here extends beyond fictional portrayals of the inner workings of struggling restaurants and their employees. In our daily lives, we encounter people whose behavior reflects their underlying struggles with trauma and loss. Responding with empathy rather than judgment, and an understanding that professional help is both available and necessary, may be the difference between someone finding a path forward or remaining trapped in destructive patterns.
Sobering Thoughts About Academics Considering Escaping the United States
/by Jeffrey Ian RossSince winning the presidency a second time, Trump and his administration have engaged in a series of actions that have negatively impacted U.S. universities and professors. These include, but are not limited to, rescinding key DEI mandates, withholding federal research and grants funding, restricting international students and visas, investigating university responses to anti-semitism, reforming educational institution accreditation, and dismantling the Department of Education.
Many professors, university leaders, and administrators are predictably worried about this assault on post-secondary education. They find their research defunded, their institutions threatened, and their international students caught in bureaucratic visa limbo. The challenge to “academic freedom” is constantly lurking in the shadows.
At the same time, we are reading stories about high-profile US scholars like Timothy Snyder and Jason Stanley, among others, who are moving to Canada, and how a select number of European universities and countries are developing programs to attract or recruit US-based academics.
But before you quit your academic job, pack your bags (not to mention uproot your family, etc., etc., etc.), here are some workplace and career issues to consider.
Can you speak a foreign language (or are you willing to learn)?
If you didn’t grow up speaking the language of the country you’re targeting, expect real challenges. Limiting yourself to English-speaking countries will narrow your job opportunities. While English is the lingua franca of academia and many foreign scholars speak it well, you’ll never match native fluency in the local language. Sure, translation tools can help with documents, but navigating daily life, university bureaucracy, and informal academic networks is another story.
What does your international academic network look like?
It’s important to recognize that many of the academics featured in news media reports about relocating abroad already had long-standing research collaborations and institutional ties in the countries and universities they’re moving to. These connections are making the desirability of moving and transitions significantly smoother than they might be for others without this kind of resource.
Have you ever lived or worked in academia outside the United States?
If your international experience is limited to attending academic conferences or brief summer vacations to Europe, a Christmas vacation in Acapulco, or a ski weekend in Quebec, you may be surprised by how different it is to live and work abroad long-term. Being a tourist or a visiting scholar is no substitute for the realities of everyday life in a foreign country. The differences are significant, especially when navigating unfamiliar bureaucracies, adapting to new professional norms, or handling day-to-day needs like housing, transportation, and healthcare.
What Immigration Challenges Might You Face?
Immigration laws and employment policies vary widely by country. Some universities offer legal support for securing work visas, paths to citizenship, etc., but many do not. In those cases, the responsibility and cost typically fall on the candidate. Do you have the financial resources, and are they readily available to cover legal fees, visa applications, and associated relocation expenses? Do you have the patience to deal with local bureaucracies, many of whom are hostile to foreigners?
What is Academic Culture Like Outside the United States?
Academic norms in Anglo-American countries (e.g., Canada, United States, United Kingdom, Australia, etc.) are pretty much the same, but those in other countries often differ significantly from the U.S. system. Expectations around research productivity, access to funding, and institutional hierarchies can be strikingly different. Salaries are generally lower in most European countries, though this is often offset by more robust social safety nets that provide national healthcare, public education, and pension systems. However, these benefits may not fully compensate for the income loss, particularly for mid-career or senior academics accustomed to U.S. salary scales.
What does academic Life Abroad Look Like?
Yes, many European academics take the entire month of August off, and the work-life balance can seem enviable. But academia is under pressure in many countries. Public support is often waning. Some would argue it was never particularly strong, and scholars are increasingly cast as out-of-touch elites who contribute little of practical value to society. The same sorts of dynamics regarding post-secondary higher education that are hitting the United States are present, but with less intensity, in other countries.
What is the Job Availability Like in Foreign Countries?
To begin with, not all countries financially support university education. In some countries, particularly those that are considered less developed, professors are not paid what would be considered a living wage. Thus, it is not uncommon for academics in these locations to hold an outside job. This means that the academic position at a university is considered more like a hobby or a secondary employment.
Meanwhile, about a decade ago, it was common to hear newly minted PhDs from Belgium, France, Italy, or Spain say that the only way they’d get a full-time academic job in their home country was if a professor died. Why? Academic positions were limited and centrally controlled by the state. While the situation has evolved somewhat since then, it hasn’t improved dramatically.
Also, the demand for scholars with expertise in STEM fields, especially engineering and computer science, is significantly higher than for those specializing in the humanities. In Europe, just like in the United States, the job market is saturated with humanities scholars. Many with advanced training in Cultural. Literary, Political, or Social Theory, or similar areas, are either stuck in long academic job queues or working in the service industry as gig workers.
For foreign professors, especially those without established international reputations, opportunities remain quite limited. Many professors and graduate students underestimate just how competitive foreign academic environments are. After some time, you may find yourself running into serious, often unspoken, job and career challenges. Chief among them: you’re trying to break into entrenched local scholarly networks. The old-boy systems you may have benefited from (and also resented) in the U.S. are alive and well in most countries.
In practice, this means local PhDs and postdocs are frequently favored. Even highly qualified outsiders may be viewed with indifference or even suspicion.
Additionally, many countries impose age caps on academic positions. I’ve seen highly talented European scholars essentially forced into early retirement due to government regulations. Often, the best they can hope for is a nice farewell party and a Festschrift no one reads.
Wrapping Out
So while an academic position outside of the United States may appear attractive, they are neither easy to land nor free of complications. If you’re not already internationally connected or highly visible in your field, the road overseas may be steeper and less stable than you were hoping for.
I’m not suggesting that professors should abandon the option of seeking higher education employment outside of the United States, but rather a suggestion to think more carefully about this decision.
Photo Credit
Photographer: Weegee
Title: Drunk (1940)
Reflections on Graffiti From the LA Anti-ICE Protests
/by Jeffrey Ian RossAlmost every major contemporary protest in the United States is accompanied by illegal graffiti and street art. The recent (June 2025) demonstrations against the presence and activities of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) officers in Los Angeles (not to mention the deployment of 700 National Guardsmen) are no different. The Trump administration has pointed to the defacement of federal property as justification for deploying federal agents, adding another layer of political consequence to the use of graffiti and street art.
Meanwhile, graffiti and street art is hardly a new phenomenon in Los Angeles. The city has a deeply rooted graffiti culture. Scholars like Susan A. Phillips, in her book The City Beneath: A Century of Los Angeles Graffiti, have chronicled its evolution over the past century, noting how this kind of public writing in the city has ranged from hobos to soldiers, to territorial tagging. Graffiti writers like Chaz Bojórquez, CISCO, Hex TGO, Slick, OG Slick, Risk, and Tempt One have become synonymous with LA’s graffiti legacy.
In general, when examining this kind of urban public art, several interrelated questions arise: What is the context? Who is creating it? What are their targets? What types of graffiti or street art are present? Where is it located? What messages does it convey? And how have audiences responded? Together, these questions can help us identify patterns and draw meaningful conclusions.
Keep in mind that not all of these questions can be answered immediately, especially in a blog post like this one. Depending on the significance of a case study, it’s often necessary to do a more formal street ethnography.
Who is doing this and against what entity is the graffiti directed?
Determining who specifically engages in graffiti and street art is challenging. In simplest terms, the perpetrators of graffiti (and occasional street art) in Los Angeles (and elsewhere), likely include protesters themselves, particularly those angered by the Trump administration’s renewed emphasis on immigration enforcement, the visual and visceral displays of police power, and federal law enforcement in sanctuary cities.
In addition to ICE, the content of the graffiti has been directed towards Mayor Karen Bass and President Trump.
Where has it been placed?
Predictably, the graffiti was geographically concentrated downtown, near the epicenter of the protest. This included federal buildings, civic landmarks, historic structures, and urban infrastructure. The majority of the graffiti could be seen on or close to the federal building where ICE detainees are located, the Edward Roybal Federal Building, and the Department of Homeland Security/ICE building.
Graffiti was applied not just to the prominent federal buildings, but it was also placed on the walls of Fletcher Bowron Square, the Los Angeles County Law Library, and the former Los Angeles Times building.
Highway overpasses were also marked with graffiti, and many small businesses were similarly hit. And, when plywood was installed over windows of buildings to prevent breakage, it inadvertently created fresh canvases for graffiti artists.
One of the more visually arresting images was the graffiti-laden Waymo cars that were also set on fire.
What was the content?
The graffiti was directed at several figures and institutions. Most of the pieces are what would be considered expletive-laden wall writing or sloganeering directed towards ICE, the Los Angeles Police Department, and Trump. In the first instance, there has been multiple Fuck ICE, and “Death 2 ICE.” visible on surfaces.
Other graffiti was aimed at President Trump, such as “Remove Trumps head!!” “Trump is scum” and predictably “Kill Trump.”
Meanwhile, some pro-migrant statements could be seen across downtown Los Angeles such as “Return the homies,” and “Immigrants rule the world.”
On social media, we saw photos of a whole train painted with the slogan “Fuck ICE” that was sitting untouched for days. While much of this graffiti leaned toward aggressive sloganeering, it reflects a broader language of confrontation rather than nuanced symbolism.
Interpreting the Visual Landscape
Besides the graffiti, the Anti-ICE protests in Los Angeles were highly visual. From the clothing worn by demonstrators, to the signs carried, to the burned-out Waymo autonomous vehicles. These elements contributed to an almost post-apocalyptic urban atmosphere that resembled a scene from Blade Runner.
While most of the graffiti was text-based, its form and materiality are relevant. The boldness of the lettering, where it was placed, and its juxtaposition against the concrete surfaces of downtown Los Angeles create a unique visceral aesthetic. These elements contributed to a confrontation with the symbols of power and authority used to govern.
If protest graffiti evolves in stages, then the June 2025 actions represent an early, expressive phase. For now, much of the visual language is text-heavy and emotionally charged, rather than graphically sophisticated. However, as the movement matures, we may witness an expansion in participants and locations, not to mention the form (i.e., more street art), styles, and strategy, incorporating unique iconography.
All in all, the visual landscape of the June 2025 protests demands a broader interpretation, as part of a longer continuum of visual resistance. From Covid-related graffiti to the anti-Russian invasion of Ukraine urban art, graffiti, and street art is a mix of urban expression, and a way to document contemporary history.
The graffiti that emerges during these urban protests is not simply defacement, it is an expression of resistance that is visible (often ephemerally) in spaces designed to suppress it.
It signals not just anger, but solidarity, and ideological positions to others. It is also territorial because it momentarily redefines ownership, purpose, and meaning in spaces of power.
Whether these markings will linger or be co-opted is unknown.
But what is clear is that this moment reflects and reinforces the importance of visual politics in urban public space, one in which protest graffiti is not marginal, but central.