
Commentary: The last stand of Tory D. Johnson: What Huntington Beach tells us about the demise of Black Lives Matter
In the summer of 2020, Black Lives Matter felt unstoppable. Protests swept the country, corporations pledged solidarity and police faced calls for reform. But nearly five years later, as the anniversary of George Floyd's murder approaches, that moment has collapsed — banners gone, donations dried up and racial justice has become taboo. Nowhere is this clearer than in Huntington Beach, where one man, Tory D. Johnson, refuses to let the movement die.
'I came here with a backpack and a dream,' Johnson says. He arrived in 2012, leaving Indiana behind with hopes of music and success. 'I wanted to prove my worth — to myself, to the white family that adopted me after 28 foster homes, and to my biological mother, who was 14 when she gave me up.'
He had visited Huntington Beach once before, on tour with a heavy-metal band. The ocean and promise of reinvention stayed with him. 'I called it my happy place.' Yet for much of his time here, that place has been living in his car.
After Floyd's murder on May 25, 2020, Johnson's dream shifted — not to fame, but to changing the story of a city. 'I could have been that Black man under Derek Chauvin's knee.'
When Johnson organized the city's first major BLM protest, the backlash was immediate. 'I posted a flier on Facebook,' he says. 'Next thing I know, businesses boarded up and counter-protesters showed up.' Yet anti-vaccine rallies months earlier had drawn no such response. 'But me? A Black man calling for justice? That was different.'
Since then, a MAGA-aligned city council has barred nongovernmental flags from city property after a previous council supported the Pride flag, attempted to privatize the library, rejected state housing requirements, imposed voter ID laws, affirmed biological differences between men and women, and dismantled a human relations committee formed in response to white supremacist hate crimes in the 1990s — to name a few of their decisions.
'It's about control,' Johnson says. 'They want to make sure the people who vote look like them.'
Johnson, unaffiliated with national BLM, is caught in the contradictions of a fading movement. 'I never got a dime from them,' he says. 'But the name still has power.'
By early 2021, white supremacist propaganda surfaced across Orange County. Fliers for a 'White Lives Matter' rally at the Huntington Beach Pier appeared on doorsteps. The same city that had responded to Johnson's protest with fear and plywood now faced an openly racist demonstration.
He arrived in a black suit and tie, channeling Malcolm X. His counterprotest held ground. Then the crowd swelled. Tensions rose. Police declared an unlawful assembly. Ten people were arrested. The rally fizzled, but the message had been sent.
'This city belongs to all of us,' Johnson says.
Johnson represents what remains of BLM in 2025 — not a movement, just individuals still fighting. The world has moved on, yet he remains, a solitary figure tilting at windmills.
At city council meetings, he stands at the podium, one of the few Black voices. 'Should I be afraid as a Black man to live in Huntington Beach?' he asks.
Even some supporters ask, 'Why do you stay?' They admire his persistence but know the fight has only gotten harder.
His adopted family loves him, but that love isn't enough to quiet the deeper struggle in his 'orphan heart,' as he says, to believe he was never meant to be discarded so easily.
'I'm still here,' he says.
Tory D. Johnson's fight in Huntington Beach reflects a broader struggle for racial justice — how movements rise, face backlash, and often fade. But the question remains: Will the next generation continue the fight, or will cities like Huntington Beach serve as warnings of how quickly progress can be undone?
Tyler Stallings is a writer, filmmaker, and former museum curator/director based in Southern California. A longtime resident of Huntington Beach, where he has lived for over two decades, he is currently collaborating with Naida Osline on a documentary about Tory D. Johnson, now in the editing stage.

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


CBS News
2 hours ago
- CBS News
San Francisco's Pink Triangle returns for Pride Month
As San Francisco prepares for Pride Week, an enduring symbol of that celebration appeared Saturday morning on the hills above the city. The Pink Triangle is an annual tradition, but this year, hundreds of people arrived for the installation as a show of defiance to the federal government's targeting of the gay and transgender community. For 30 years, the Pink Triangle has towered over the city during Pride Month. But founder Patrick Carney said it began almost on a whim. "The first one went up in the dark of night and we thought it was just sort of a fluke to add a little color to the parade," he said. "And then we realized that people didn't know what it was, so that's why it's here after 30 years." The deeper meaning of the symbol is not a cause for celebration. The pink triangle was the insignia given by the Nazi's to suspected homosexuals as they were shipped to concentration camps for extermination. "With the Pink Triangle, we're just trying to remember what happened and how it ties into Pride," said Carney. "Because part of celebrating and appreciating any Pride is knowing where you've been. And this is it, this Pink Triangle. So, we have to have it here for Pride. Especially with what's happening in Washington. It really is more important than ever this year." With the Trump administration targeting transgender individuals and challenging previously established same-sex rights, participation in the installation of the triangle reached an all-time high. More than 800 people showed up in the cold, foggy morning to hammer down the sections of pink canvas making up the one-acre symbol. "And it shows that we still need it. That many people wouldn't show up if this project wasn't needed," said Carney. "They wanted to come up to help build it to make sure it was a part of Pride Month." After the installation was complete, local leaders spoke about this year's Pride celebration being about a lot more than just a fight for LGBTQ rights. "We are going to be at the vanguard, fighting to save this American republic," said SF Board of Supervisors president, Rafael Mandelman. "And that's what Pride is about this probably will be, as least for the next three." "When we look up here from any point in San Francisco, and we see this triangle, it reminds us of what we stand for," said CA Assemblymember Matt Haney. Then he showed the crowd his cap from the Navy ship named for gay rights crusader Harvey Milk, a ship that has been ordered by the Secretary of Defense to be renamed. "Erasing people is what they do," said Haney. "Celebrating people and history and identity is what we do." Carney has shepherded the Pink Triangle project through 30 years and its continued existence is reflected in his personality. "Persistence, longevity, stubbornness, I'm still here," he said, with a laugh. "And someday I'll find a successor. But, no, we had no idea that it would still be going on. And it really is important, especially this year. It's more important than ever after what's happening in Washington, D.C." The Pink Triangle will remain on display until the end of Pride month, on Sunday, June 29. And while it will continue, its meaning has changed. It began as a warning about man's inhumanity towards those seen as "different." Now, it's become a symbol of defiance to that very same thing.

3 hours ago
Cloudy skies can't dim joy as thousands fill nation's capital for World Pride parade
WASHINGTON -- Gray skies and drizzle gave way to sunshine, multicolored flags and celebrations as the nation's capital held the World Pride parade Saturday. Tens of thousands of people participated in parades and other festivities, in defiance of what activists say is an unprecedented assault on the LGBTQ+ community that challenges the rights many have fought for over the years. A rainbow flag the length of three football fields flowed through the streets, carried by 500 members of the Gay Men's Chorus of Washington, D.C., to kick off the parade. Behind them, people waved Pride flags and flags representing the transgender, asexual and bisexual communities from atop a bus. Singer-songwriter and actor Reneé Rapp laughed and blew kisses from the back of a pickup truck draped with a transgender flag while Laverne Cox, a transgender actress and activist known for her role in Netflix's 'Orange is the New Black,' waved from an open convertible. 'Pride means us looking out for each other no matter what,' she declared to the crowd as the convertible rolled to a stop. 'We know how to be there for each other.' Many LGBTQ+ travelers have expressed concerns or decided to skip World Pride due to anxieties about safety, border policies and a hostile political climate that they say hearkens back to another time. But that did not keep international travelers and other participants away, with groups visible from Iran, Namibia, Kenya and Russia. Along the parade route, hundreds gathered outside the National City Christian Church as rainbow flags and balloons lined its steps and columns. A child with rainbow face paint blew bubbles at the base of the steps while Whitney Houston's 'I Wanna Dance with Somebody' blared from loudspeakers.' 'D.C. is already one of the biggest cities in the country for celebrating Pride,' said Cheo White, 33, from Annapolis, Maryland, 'But we are all collectively more united and turning out more because of what's happening in the White House.' Many have said the gathering has taken on a new meaning amid the Trump administration's aggressive policies against protections for transgender Americans and diversity, equity and inclusion programs. White's partner, Nick Kerver, 26, who was visiting from Toledo, Ohio, said Pride has 'always been a political tool' but has taken on more importance this year amid mounting threats to the LGBTQ+ community, especially transgender and nonbinary Americans.' 'It feels more important than ever,' Kerver said while wearing a rainbow hat, sunglasses and a T-shirt. 'But we also have to get involved in our local communities too.' David Begler, a 58-year-old gay man from Philadelphia, expressed disappointment that many international travelers felt unsafe visiting D.C. for World Pride but said he appreciates its presence in the city during this political climate. 'It's the perfect time to have World Pride in D.C.,' Begler said. 'We need it right now. I want us to send a message to the White House to focus on uplifting each other instead of dividing.' Stay DeRoux, 36, usually plans a day trip to D.C. Pride from her home in Fredericksburg, Virginia. But this year, she and her wife, Deenie DeRoux, planned a full weekend. ''This is a really big year,' Stay DeRoux said. 'There's been a lot of turmoil. So it's an amazing thing to be among allies, among people who love because we've experienced so much hate on a daily basis.' For the day, the idea of threats and opposition took a backseat to the celebration. Streets were closed, but filled with floats, and impromptu parties broke out with music and food in streets adjoining the parade route. Johnny Cervantes Jr., dressed in a black suit and top hat, headed to a grandstand at a church themed float to marry his partner of 28 years, Freddie Lutz, owner of Freddie's Beach Bar and Restaurant in Arlington, Virginia. Events culminate tomorrow with a rally and protest March Sunday and a giant street party and concert covering a multi-block stretch of Pennsylvania Avenue. 'This is World Pride in the best city in the world,' Mayor Muriel Bowser declared as she walked the parade hand-in-hand with her daughter, Miranda.


Washington Post
3 hours ago
- Washington Post
Two people stabbed at Dupont Circle Park during Pride
Two people were stabbed at Dupont Circle Park during Pride festivities on Saturday, a D.C. police spokesperson said. The victims are both males, but police declined to specify their ages or the severity of their injuries. Police do not have a suspect in custody. Police began evacuating the park about 7:30 p.m. Saturday.