Juggalos rally, march in Washington over ‘gang’ label

NGTON — Juggalo nation, meet Mr. Lincoln.

Collecting around a stage set up before the Lincoln Memorial, several hundred Juggalos — fans of the Detroit-based hip-hop duo Insane Clown Posse — turned out Saturday to listen to music and bring attention to what they say is an unfair gang label from the FBI that has cost some of their face-painted friends and family their jobs, led to harassment by authorities and more.

“You can’t go out to malls (in face paint) … You can’t go out showing that you are a Juggalo,” said Tyler Dulac, a 22-year-old from Mason, Mich. He said while he hasn’t been targeted personally, he knows of a colleague who was harassed in public when he was in Juggalo attire.

Other Juggalos (and Juggalettes, as their female members are known) told stories of losing jobs, of being stopped by police, of being threatened with having their children taken away, all because of their musical preferences and face-painting.

One woman from Manassas, Va., said she lost her job as a probation-parole officer “because of the type of music I listen to.”

“If horrorcore is so scary, why isn’t Stephen King in jail?” Jessica Bonometti asked from the stage before the Reflecting Pool as the event got under way.

For the uninitiated, the name Juggalos comes from an ICP song, “The Juggla” and refers to anyone who is a rabid fan of the Detroit-based duo known for the violent or offensive imagery in its songs, which its fans seem to understand is more for comic effect than anything else.

The Juggalos’ problems stem from a 2011 report from the FBI that classified them as a “hybrid gang” citing reports of petty crime and that some in a few states were stepping up into more organized efforts.

Later gang threat assessments didn’t include the label but the Juggalos say the damage was done. They’ve been trying to force the FBI to rescind it publicly since — and that’s why they came to Washington on Saturday for a rally, march and concert to be capped off with a set by ICP.

Juggalos say a few bad members of a family thousands of members strong shouldn’t tarnish all of them, however.

Shawn Rosen, 34, a Walmart employee in Apache Junction, Ariz., said he was visiting a fair in Oregon some years ago when a police officer pulled him aside and started frisking him for drugs.

“I don’t even do drugs,” Rosen said.

On the official website for the march, the organizers called for a peaceful and sober — if not entirely inoffensive — show of force: “We need you and your voice to make sure that we shout above the chaos of this noisy world and are heard loudly and clearly as we deliver a message right into the nerve center of America that the Juggalo Family is not a joke, punchline, or any form of criminal organization,” they said.

Josh Metroff, a 30-year-old unemployed chef from Toledo, put it even more simply: He hasn’t been discriminated against himself but came because, “I’m not a gang member.”

Last year, a judge dismissed the Juggalos’ case against the Justice Department but several members, along with the American Civil Liberties Union in Michigan, are appealing to the U.S. 6th Circuit Court of Appeals in Cincinnati. They say while Juggalos “express their shared identity by displaying distinctive tattoos, art, clothing” and that “some paint their faces like clowns,” their purposes “do not include engaging in criminal activity.”

That’s not to say Juggalos haven’t been involved in criminal acts. One in Wisconsin involved a woman’s finger being chopped off. Another involved two men accused of beating and stomping another man in Maryland. But the ACLU’s argument says that any large fan base is going to have a number of criminals in it.

“(Like) other musical fan bases, the vast majority of Juggalos have nothing to do with criminal activity,” the most recent legal brief said, “let alone organized crime.”

The early crowd Saturday was nowhere near the 3,000 expected but it was likely more would come in as the day continued. As for threatening, the crowd seemed far from dangerous, despite the cursing of the speakers and the hatchet-man symbols connected with the band.

Instead they chanted “family” and spoke about the support Juggalo nation affords its members. Young adults painted like zombies said “excuse me,” getting around in the crowd. Some brought children, and many carried hand-painted signs including Joshua Palmer of Columbus, Ohio. His said, “Liking crappy music is not a crime.”

“This is just an epic moment for us,” Joseph (Violent J) Bruce, one of the band’s two members said from the stage just before helping to lead a march near the nearby Washington Monument. “I’m absolutely in awe to look out and see all you ninjas.”

Aleah Palmer, 27, also of Columbus, acknowledged that ICP fans know the violent lyrics of the songs are not meant to be taken seriously and that the music is “awful.” She said it’s meant to be taken satirically and often has a positive underlying message.

Palmer, who works in child protective services, said it’s “absolutely true” that if a case worker finds out a parent is a Juggalo, it can wind up as a factor whether it has any relevance or not.

“We’re loud, we’re noisy, we’re obnoxious. We own it,” she said, adding that while many Juggalos come from dysfunctional families, that — and the bands they like — doesn’t make them criminals.

Toni Shores, 25, of Newark, Del., brought an American flag spray painted with the image of a happy, dread-locked face, saying it was a tribute to a Juggalo friend who was stabbed and killed when he intervened in an attack on a woman and her child.

She said a man from a neighboring rally for President Donald Trump grabbed it from her and she had to get it back.

“He didn’t even ask why it was spray painted. He just grabbed it,” she said, adding that she and her family have also been targeted by police.

Gary Duncan, 34, is a salesman born in Detroit who now lives in Ocean City, Md. He said he knows people who have been stopped and searched for having a hatchet man sticker on their car and “it’s nothing but trouble after that.”

“This gang label is very unjust,” he said. “There are good and bad people (everywhere). … These are the people everyone loves to hate? Why? We aren’t racists. We aren’t bigots. We aren’t women beaters. That’s not what we’re about.”

When ICP’s Bruce and Joseph (Shaggy 2 Dope) Utsler took the stage to encourage the crowd just before the march, they extolled the audience, telling them while they knew each other from their music — and the annual bacchanalia and music festival they anchor known as The Gathering — this cause has become much bigger and is about the freedom of expression without fear of being targeted by the government.

“We’re the good guys here today, you can feel it in your gut,” said Bruce, speaking in the shadow of Lincoln as Jugglos raised their middle fingers to a circling helicopter. “I hope you ninjas remember this for the rest of your lives.”