The “Hands Up, Don’t Shoot” Protest at the BSU Library brings a campus protest over Michael Brown into a study space and turns Brendan Fletcher from a hesitant observer into a participant. Its decisive shift is personal as well as public: Amber recognizes Brendan, invites him to lend his voice, and draws him into a procession that circles the library before spilling into the October night.

Setting and Background

The protest enters a library where Brendan is trying to read about melting glaciers and rising sea levels. Before the march arrives, his attention keeps snagging on a girl chewing gum at his table; the noise feels so intrusive that the arrival of the protesters comes as a relief. That small reversal establishes the scene’s crowded soundscape: private study is already interrupted, and the demonstration transforms interruption into a shared, deliberate act.

About twenty protesters gather near the main entrance, huddled together, whispering, and looking around before arranging themselves in single file down the center aisle. Their formation is visible and orderly, but the first chant is uneven: some raise their arms before others have joined in, and the words do not land together. The scene does not present the demonstration as perfectly coordinated from the outset. Its confidence grows in public, through repetition.

Some students respond with eye-rolling, head-shaking, or heckling. One calls Michael Brown a thug. Brendan has heard that protests are taking place across campus and that other students complain about protesters entering classrooms or harassing sports fans. In the library, however, he finds the disruption compelling: the chant fills a quiet space, and repeated words grow louder and more assured. The scene holds the disagreement in view without pretending Brendan has settled the facts or that everyone present shares the same response.

Amber’s Invitation

As the line passes Brendan’s table, he recognizes Amber from the Autism Awareness Network. She leaves the procession to greet him, exuberantly asking where he has been and saying that the group missed him at its previous meeting. Brendan answers that he has had too much work and holds up his book about climate change. Her brief detour connects his solitary work to an existing social relationship: she is not simply a protester passing through, but someone who notices his absence and addresses him directly.

Amber raises her hands and chants with the others even while standing outside the line. Brendan notices her strong shoulders, blond hair, blue eyes, freckles, and flushed cheeks. His attention to her appearance runs alongside, rather than replacing, the political exchange. When she says, “It’s terrible what happened in Ferguson,” and insists that the situation must stop, Brendan cannot claim certainty about the conflicting accounts he has heard of Michael Brown. He does not know whether Brown was minding his own business or had robbed a store, or whether he was surrendering or reaching for an officer’s gun.

Brendan answers that what happened was wrong, while admitting through his account that he remains confused. Amber smiles as if he has passed a test, then holds out her hand and tells him that the protesters need his voice. The gesture makes participation the scene’s turning point. Brendan has not resolved every uncertainty; he is being asked to join a collective protest despite that uncertainty, rather than to present himself as an expert on the disputed details.

The March Through the Library

At first Brendan follows Amber’s encouragement to chant. Some people heckle, while others rise from their seats and join the moving line. The group passes the circulation desk, winds through the stacks, and reaches the Computer Commons. These named landmarks give the protest a path through the ordinary machinery of the library: desks, shelves, and computer space become successive points along a route taken together.

Brendan finds the chant easier and more enjoyable the more he repeats it. The group’s movement loosens: some sway, others raise their hands in a celebratory motion, and Brendan and Amber hold hands for a while with their arms raised. The protest remains a response to Brown’s death, but its immediate social force is also visible in the change from watching and uncertainty to coordinated movement with other people. The procession does not erase the heckling or resolve the conflicting accounts; it makes room for Brendan to act alongside those who have chosen to speak.

Exit and Significance

The protesters complete three circuits of the library’s main floor, then leave through the metal detector while continuing to chant. The route ends not in a lecture or a settled argument but at the threshold between the library and the October night. Outside, the participants high-five and congratulate one another. Brendan describes the night as chilly and recalls moonlight on Amber’s hair as she hugs him.

That ending contrasts the protest’s noisy passage through the library with a moment of personal warmth after the group exits. Amber’s greeting, invitation, and embrace frame the event as a renewed point of contact as well as a public demonstration. The march’s repetition supplies its own momentum: a hesitant first chant becomes more confident, and Brendan’s initial uncertainty gives way to participation without being falsely represented as complete political understanding. The scene therefore links collective expression to an individual’s return to connection, while preserving the unresolved disagreement and doubt that were present from the start.