Copyright The Oregonian
It was just getting dark outside Portland’s U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement building on a Sunday in late October, and Jeremy Roberts had his phone out. Like most of the dozen or so people filming the nightly protests, Roberts’ phone was mounted on a small pole that helped him grip it more firmly. He had attached a fuzzy, professional looking microphone. As he walked down the street, Roberts bumped into a woman wearing a sloth costume and a pink beanie. She walked with a cane. When she took exception to the bump, Roberts argued that she’d gotten in his way. A man wearing a keffiyeh and pink bandana came over to defend the sloth, loudly. Roberts held his phone inches from the other man’s face. Then about six other people with cameras showed up. Suddenly, the two men were shouting expletive-laced insults about who owned those inches of sidewalk surrounded by people holding lights and cameras, seeming to egg on the argument by their presence. People watching at home would have seen a vicious verbal battle playing out in the center of a crowd. It could have felt very intense, zoomed in on those two angry faces. But had any of the streamers holding cameras backed up 10 steps, or done a 360-degree sweep, it would have been clear that hardly anyone was present. Reporters for The Oregonian/OregonLive counted 75 people within a two-block area at the peak that evening on Oct. 26, roughly a dozen of whom were streamers. As the weather turns cold and wet and the National Guard remains barred from deploying to Portland, fewer and fewer people are showing up to protest in front of Portland’s ICE building. But the presence of streamers – people who broadcast the evening’s events live for audiences watching online, sometimes soliciting donations – has grown. Most identify as so-called patriots or have been labeled right-wing counterprotesters, but some are neutral and some identify as progressive. As a group, the streamers are now fueling much of the drama and chaos they broadcast. At least nine of the 19 arrests made by Portland police outside the ICE facility since late September that resulted in charges involved livestreamers or right-wing journalists, with those streamers listed as victims in seven of the cases and perpetrators in two, a newsroom analysis showed. That figure does not include arrests made by federal officers, most of which involve alleged assaults on officers. The arrests involving streamers include Roberts, who was charged with harassment that night for allegedly knocking someone’s arm and sending that person’s phone tumbling. He said later he just wanted the bright lights being held up to his face out of the way. Roberts said he was only there to document what was really happening at the ICE protests. “(People at the protests) hate anybody streaming because they don’t want people to see the truth,” Roberts told The Oregonian/OregonLive. “It doesn’t really matter what side they’re on. They don’t like people streaming because when things happen, they don’t want it videoed.” Roberts, who pleaded guilty to harassing a journalist and damaging a glass door at the Oregon State Capitol in 2020, was arrested in October based partly on footage of the incident that officers evaluated, according to Portland Police Bureau spokesperson Mike Benner. “A number of live-streamers and personalities regularly attend these events and, in some cases, contribute to an environment where tension and confrontation can escalate,” Benner wrote in an email. “Many of these individuals are creating content for audiences that reward intensity and conflict, which can sometimes amplify volatile situations.” Some right-wing streamers in particular have used their platforms to reach Republican power brokers. While many streamers, like Roberts, command only a few thousand viewers per night, some, like an instigator who goes by “Tommyboi4209,” are in contact with national media personalities, like Nick Sortor, who have President Donald Trump’s ear. Lee Shaker, associate professor and chair of the communication department at Portland State University, said Portland, with its unique history and national reputation of protest, has been a magnet for these content creators in what he called the “attention economy.” “Both on the left and right, there are these national personalities who make a living by either creating spectacle, which is harder to do, or piggybacking on an existing spectacle,” he said. “That’s definitely been happening here.” Money, attention, notoriety Regardless of their level of national influence, the streamers are helping shape the narrative, affecting not just what’s actually happening at Portland’s nightly protests but also what the rest of the country thinks is happening. So who are these people? Why have they spent night after night in the cold broadcasting schoolyard style shouting matches to anyone who will watch? Nine of the frequent Portland protest streamers researched by The Oregonian/OregonLive have a wide variety of backgrounds and reach. Some are locals with a handful of followers, while others have made a name for themselves by traveling the country to film conflict. Some streamers provide almost no commentary and appear to simply document the situation. Others make a point of stirring up conflict at the ICE building, considering their ability to do so part of the draw for their audience and a reason for viewers to donate. Some seem to have just spotted a business opportunity. Nicholas Bergstrom, 42, has about 1,000 followers on YouTube, his primary platform. Sitting in his car, Bergstrom typically streams other people’s streams under the name “The Homeless Diabetic,” occasionally providing a voiceover while watching their content. He said he is homeless and claims to have raised about $2,000 toward buying a used RV for himself. To get “monetized” on YouTube, the platform requires a content creator to have 1,000 subscribers plus 10 million short-video views or thousands of hours of people viewing long-form videos. Once a streamer hits that status, they can get money by enabling ads to run on their stream or encouraging people to pay to have their comments stand out in the chat. Bergstrom has not made it to that point yet, but he still pulls in money by sharing his Cash App and PayPal links and frequently asking for donations. During a recent 4 ½ hour livestream on YouTube, he at one point said he had pulled in a little over $200. A near-constant money seeker, Bergstrom said “donate” or “donation” 40 times during the stream, “Cash App” 31 times and “PayPal” 47 times. “Anybody who wishes to donate, you can do it straight through the PayPal link I just posted below or use any of my handles,” he said that night. “I appreciate anybody who can help.” The recording of that stream and several others were taken down by YouTube for violating their copyright policy. Bergstrom, who most recently had an address in Florida, did not respond to a request for comment sent to his GoFundMe account. Other streamers seem to be in it for notoriety. Portland resident Thomas Allen, who streams on X as “Tommyboi4209,” is at least as frequently seen and heard near the ICE facility as protesters in inflatable suits. Only Jack Dickinson, who dresses as the Portland Chicken, could credibly claim more frequent attendance. Portland police arrested Allen, 36, on Oct. 5 and the Multnomah County District Attorney’s Office charged him with assaulting a protester, who he allegedly knocked unconscious. As a condition of his release, Allen is barred from coming within 200 feet of the ICE building, but he makes a point of standing about a block and a half away and instigating loud verbal conflict. His profile image on the social media platform X shows him taking a swing at a protester. Allen’s regular spot on South Bancroft Street has created its own mini-epicenter, where counterprotesters and a small swarm of other livestreamers gather. Allen has declined to be interviewed by The Oregonian/OregonLive on multiple occasions. A recording of his Nov. 2 interactions with passersby and protesters is a typical example of his streams on X. In the video, Allen engages in a nearly unending string of conflicts with protesters, his comments regularly descending into unprintable vitriol and insults. A few minutes into the nearly two-hour long stream, Allen issues a sexist proclamation that “putting women into the workforce ruined our country.” Later in the video, he repeatedly makes vile misrepresentations of Islam as a protester objects. Allen responds by calling the protester an offensive term for transgender people and “insane.” A few minutes later, Allen redirects his attention to a woman taking off an inflatable costume and getting into her parked car, which has a bumper sticker supporting Kamala Harris’s presidential campaign. Allen approaches her and immediately starts to hurl insults. “Women like you,” he says, folding body-shaming, ageist, sexist and racist insults into his description of her, “are the death of America.” More than 28,000 people viewed his stream that night. Sometimes, the people Allen argues with are other content creators. Mike Duntley, 58, posts anti-Trump TikToks under the handle “SpiderMike503” to just over 6,200 followers. One recent Saturday evening, Duntley maneuvered his Nissan Titan pickup, with a “F--- Trump” flag waving from the bed, while he screamed at Allen from the cab. After Duntley emerged from his truck, he and Allen continued trading invective as Allen’s tripod-stabilized smartphone captured their theatrics, comments and viewers’ emojis rolling up the screen. Duntley sometimes stays at ICE until 4 a.m. when crowds thin but tensions can still erupt. He said he’s there mostly to protest, but he thinks other streamers stick around only to capture footage of conflict, specifically video of federal officers using unprovoked force against protesters. “You might get a handful of people sticking around to get that … money shot,” he told The Oregonian/OregonLive. But not everyone with a camera at the ICE facility is there to capture the most intense moments. Streamer Mindy King, 50, lives in the apartment complex kitty corner from the ICE compound and streams on TikTok. King recently told The Oregonian/OregonLive that tear gas from the protests had repeatedly entered her apartment and she has struggled to sleep due to anxiety. She said she set up her stream, which films from a camera perched on her balcony, to document what was unfolding outside. Mike Ross, who is from Idaho, was first drawn to Portland’s ICE protests by watching them online. Intrigued by what he saw, he wondered if the depictions were accurate and decided to come see for himself. The even-keeled veteran occasionally streams on X under the handle “MentallyIdaho” and has accepted a couple hundred dollars in donations from viewers to cover one night in a Portland hotel. He said he was a little embarrassed to take the money, but felt he should accept the donations and honor his viewers’ request that he keep streaming. Ross said he doesn’t condone the personal attacks streamers like Allen use to gin up viewers. But he supports what Allen is doing overall. Ross believes Allen is primarily trying to protect ICE agents from protesters by drawing the negative “antifa” attention to himself. “If you really want to bother Tommy, leave him alone,” Ross said. “But they can’t do that. People have to be there and have to antagonize the guy and he antagonizes back.” ‘It’s spectacle’ Shaker, the PSU professor, said the popularity of live-streaming grew out of the video game streaming site Twitch, where viewers watch other people playing video games and in some cases donate to them. “It’s really fun to watch Damian Lillard play basketball,” Shaker said. “Even though you’re not actually playing, you’re watching. Video game streaming is kind of the same thing.” The difference, of course, is that Lillard isn’t going to respond to your comments while he’s playing basketball. But streamers will often shout-out and interact with their followers, creating a parasocial relationship between streamer and commenter, Shaker said. Now, thanks to 5G networks and greater wireless connectivity, live-streaming can increasingly happen in public. Anybody with a cellphone can do it. “The thing about this economy is that there’s no barrier to entry,” Shaker said. “And if you’re successful, then the sky’s the limit.” Broadly, the streaming audience is younger people watching from across the country and globe. “ People under the age of 40 don’t get news from traditional outlets,” Shaker said. “If they’re getting information, they’re getting it online, and they’re getting it largely through things that are pushed at them. (The algorithm) is feeding them whatever’s trending, whatever’s most likely to capture attention.” Streaming, and the related art of distilling long streams into a handful of 30- to 90-second clips also happened during nightly protests in Portland in 2020, especially during situations where left- and right-wing protesters clashed, Shaker said. “One of the differences this time is that I do think the city, by and large, the mass public hasn’t taken the bait,” Shaker said. “Increasingly, the public realizes intuitively that this is spectacle, and it’s spectacle that is self-serving and being created by these warring media entities.” Still, livestreamers seem to have had a direct effect on what’s happening outside the ICE facility. Last month, after filming ICE protests in Chicago, high profile streamer Cam Higby, 25, traveled to Portland. Higby has 750,000 subscribers on TikTok alone, plus several hundred thousand on other platforms. He is one of four men who have raised more than $72,000 on a crowdfunding site for a “Fearless Tour” to bring debates to college campuses that they describe as “inspired by the work and legacy of Charlie Kirk,” the right-wing political activist who was recently assassinated. Feds in Portland Judge bars Trump from sending troops to Oregon as small group continues to protest at ICE facility: Get caught up ‘Exceeded his authority’: Judge issues injunction blocking Trump from sending National Guard to Oregon ICE arrests make headlines as Portland anticipates judge’s decision on Guard deployment: Get caught up Lawyers claim local jails violating Oregon sanctuary law with ICE detentions Higby aired his first Portland videos on Oct. 22. During the course of his week in the city, he posted more than 50 videos on X, most less than a minute long, that received close to 5 million views on that platform. The videos primarily show yelling and skirmishes between protesters and counterprotesters. When Portland police directed anti-ICE protesters to remove a supply tent from a sidewalk on a Saturday in late October, there was an unusually large crowd of counterprotesters nearby. Several told reporters for The Oregonian/OregonLive that they had arrived after Higby advised them to be there. Higby did not respond to a request for comment. After protesters removed the tent, counterprotesters gleefully filmed the remains and rifled through the things protesters left behind. In one 47-minute video, titled “I got jumped by leftist mob, then helped the cops catch them!” someone at the protest tells Higby, “You’re on the wrong side of history.” He replied, “At least I’ll make history, bro.”
