Los Angeles – Bridgette Covelli, a 23-year-old tattoo artist known for her intricate floral designs and bold linework, arrived at the “No Kings Day” protest near Los Angeles City Hall on June 14, 2025, expecting a vibrant stand against the Trump administration’s policies. What she encountered instead was a hard-foam projectile—a so-called “less-lethal” rubber bullet—fired by an unidentified LAPD officer, shattering her forearm and derailing her career overnight.
Covelli, who had been biking through the crowd on an electric scooter, described the scene as peaceful: protesters chanting, dancing, and waving signs under the summer sun. “It was a celebration of resistance,” she told CBS News, her voice steady despite the sling cradling her arm. But as she turned onto 3rd Street, blocked by a police line, a sharp crack echoed. Pain exploded; she tumbled from the bike, crashing onto the sidewalk in a daze. Blood pooled from the gash where the 40mm round struck, fracturing her ulna and radius in a compound break that required surgery and pins.
Now, four months later, Covelli remains sidelined, her tattoo gun gathering dust in her Echo Park studio. “I haven’t been able to draw. I can’t even brush my teeth correctly,” she said, her eyes welling as she recounted losing $5,000 in monthly income. The average tattoo artist earns $50,000 yearly, but Covelli’s specialized style—blending realism with surrealism—had her booked solid. Unemployment benefits and GoFundMe donations bridge the gap, but therapy for PTSD from the trauma adds another layer of strain. “I was there to protest peacefully. Now I’m the casualty.”
The incident, one of dozens in the LAPD’s response to anti-ICE demonstrations, has fueled outrage and lawsuits. The Los Angeles Press Club sued over attacks on journalists, while Covelli joined a class-action suit alleging excessive force. LAPD Chief Jim McDonnell defended the munitions as “de-escalation tools,” but bodycam footage shows no immediate threat. Federal probes loom, with the DOJ scrutinizing “less-lethal” use amid Trump’s 2.1 million deportations.
For Covelli, a lifelong Angeleno whose art once adorned celebrities’ skin, the injury is more than physical. “My hands are my voice,” she reflected, sketching gingerly with her good arm. As protests simmer and the 36-day shutdown bites, her story spotlights the human cost of dissent: A brush with brutality that inks a scar deeper than any tattoo.
