June Davies' first known message to the Portland police sergeant's cell phone seemed harmless enough.

Did police arrest a friend and fellow activist, Davies wanted to know, at a demonstration during the city's Fleet Week?

"No arrest," Sgt. Jeff Niiya, texted back June 10. "Have a safe protest and evening."

Over the next four months, Davies, a budding Portland activist, quietly exchanged hundreds of texts with Niiya amid a groundswell of protest activity throughout the summer and fall.

Then, in October, Davies' activist peers learned of the private exchanges. Alarmed, they promptly published online copies of the communications Davies had shared with them. [Read the text messages below]

Many swiftly severed ties with someone they feared had become a police informant, ostracizing Davies. Some sent threats by text or Facebook.

"It was really, really bad," Davies said in a recent interview with The Oregonian/OregonLive.

The episode, which months later still rattles the city's activist community, deepened the distrust of police for some and widened internal divisions among protesters. Some criticize the bureau for preying on young and susceptible activists such as Davies, essentially cultivating them as sources.

Others cast blame on Davies, who strenuously denies any attempt to betray the activists or their goals.

The now-public messages also provide a rare look into the way the Portland Police Bureau develops relationships with activists, a tactic that's no secret but has rarely been revealed in such detail.

Activist ostracized, police criticized after cooperation, communication exposed 113 Gallery: Activist ostracized, police criticized after cooperation, communication exposed

Davies was particularly impressionable as someone who acknowledges struggling with mental health issues, homelessness for a part of this year and gender identity.

"The police preyed on one of the most vulnerable members of our community," said Gregory McKelvey, a co-founder of Portland's Resistance, a prominent activist group.

That's a charge police forcefully deny and one Davies dismisses.

"I knew exactly what I was doing when I started," Davies, now 20, said. "I knew exactly what my goals were."

"I WANTED THE POLICE TO STOP BEATING PEOPLE UP"

Raised in Lake Oswego, Davies graduated from Lakeridge High School only a few months before the 2016 presidential election and had never dabbled in politics before.

But Donald Trump's upset victory over Hillary Clinton in November of that year prompted Davies, who identifies as nonbinary, to join thousands of protesters in downtown Portland.

The streets became an immediate calling.

Davies, known to many as Gia, rapidly emerged as fixture at the left-wing marches, rallies and demonstrations that swept across the city, according to more than a half-dozen activists who spoke with The Oregonian/OregonLive.

All but two of them declined to go on record, citing security concerns.

Davies, who attended actions organized by Portland's Resistance and other protest groups, at times donned a hoodie and bandana alongside other anonymous activists known as antifa.

Soon, Davies was in regular contact with other members of the activist community on social media and encrypted messaging services like Signal. With a handful of friends, Davies would go on to form a street medic team that assisted those injured at protests.

In interviews with The Oregonian/OregonLive, Davies discussed being deeply troubled with tactics Portland police use to maintain order. Dressed in military gear, the officers sometimes fired tear gas, pepper spray and flash-bang canisters into crowds. During tense confrontations, police used physical force and also occasionally surrounded dozens of demonstrators into what is known as kettles.

Davies witnessed a lot of the controversial tactics firsthand.

"I wanted the police to stop beating people up and making unnecessary arrests," Davies said.

But Davies, who when younger entertained the idea of becoming a police officer, also had sympathy for the riot cops. Protesters who turned violent or destroyed property made Davies uneasy.

"In all honesty, I think that for the most part police are there to protect and serve," they said. "And for the most part, I think Portland police does a good job."

That was unpopular among activists, who have routinely criticized Portland police over its handling of protests, and privately some began casting a suspicious eye on Davies.

There was also trouble on another front.

Outside of activism, Davies' acknowledges struggling for much of the year. A host of mental health issues, including of anxiety, depression and bipolar episodes, plagued Davies off and on. The young activist also spent several months homeless and living on the streets in Portland.

It was during a parental estrangement that Davies recalled first meeting Niiya, a 20-year police veteran and a presence at many protests and large public events since the Occupy Portland movement. The police sergeant, whose Asian heritage the Chinese-born Davies found comforting, seemed to genuinely care.

When they met during Fleet Week in June, he gave his business card to Davies, a practice now common among police.

"WE'RE WILLING TO HAVE A CONVERSATION"

Davies and Niiya remained in contact for months, their text messages show. Davies inquired about friends arrested or under investigation, offering at one point to assist police with a suspected arson case. Davies had met the suspect while living on the streets and believed the woman was innocent.

The pair also regularly discussed police presence at events, with Niiya sometimes providing suggestions to Davies about how activists might respond.

Davies recalled meeting with Niiya in person on a least four separate occasions between June and October. Davies also spoke with the sergeant more than a half-dozen times on the phone.



"I was trying to help my friends," said Davies, who maintains nothing improper occurred.

Portland police said it is common for officers here and in other cities to communicate with organizers and activists to determine the appropriate police response.

Lt. Ryan Lee, whose Rapid Response Team oversees large public protests and gatherings, said someone like is Niiya is in touch with a handful of activists or organizers at any given time.

"Anybody that's willing to help paint a better picture to ensure public safety of an event, we're willing to have a conversation with," Lee said. "We want to be able to talk to members of the public and find out what they need from us."

Lee also pushed back at the suggestion Niiya had cultivated Davies as an informant, characterizing the interactions instead as "community policing."

"If somebody from the community talking to us at an event is characterized as an informant, then anybody who talks to the police would be labeled an informant," Lee said.

Activists, however, claim Davies' exchanges with the police should raise alarms.

On multiple occasions, Davies mentioned the names of fellow activists, protest plans and tactics of various groups in advance. Davies was also in frequent contact with Niiya during demonstrations, at times providing up-to-the-minute details about coordination and logistics among activists.

"Part of resistance culture involves civil disobedience or actions that can violate laws or social norms," said Bob Brown, an anarchist and Portland State University student who briefly ran the now-defunct local chapter of Refuse Fascism, a national organization, that Davies joined. "You can easily incriminate yourself or your friends by talking to the police."

What drew the most outrage among activists like Brown and McKelvey was the way they said Niiya appeared to target Davies' susceptibility.

In one September exchange, Davies provided a detailed list of suggestions for how Portland police should staff an upcoming rally organized by the right-wing group Patriot Prayer, which was expected to draw a large counterdemonstration.

"You might [be] chief soon!" Niiya texted in response to Davies' suggestions.

"I'm happy to coordinate strategy for you and your superiors," Davies wrote back. "But my name can never be attached with it."

Later in the conversation, dated Sept. 8, Davies expressed doubt about police taking up the proposal.

"Who says your plan is not happening?? We might surprise you! Haha," Niiya responded.

The apparent coziness bothered Brown and others. "Some of the messages made me feel sick reading them," he said.

Lee, the Portland police lieutenant, said Niiya's conduct with Davies was never improper. "The way these texts have been portrayed by some members of the public is very unfortunate," he said.

"I GOT DEPRESSED. I GOT SUICIDAL."

Still, Davies didn't seem to think ongoing contact with police was that problematic or needed to remain a secret. In October, Davies told Brown and a few other members of Refuse Fascism about their relationship with Niiya and later provided the group screen shots of the text messages.

"June seemed to honestly believe they could tell police what to do and not to do at protests," Brown said. "The rest of us were like, 'What the heck?'"

Several days later, a number of Portland activists began sharing the text exchanges between Davies and Niiya along with an unsigned press release that read, "ATTENTION: Police are using vulnerable activists as informants."

Dozens of people cut off contact almost immediately and others demanded Davies leave Portland and never return. Some accused Davies of being an actual undercover cop.

"I got depressed. I got suicidal," Davies said. "I didn't want to exist anymore.

The revelation has also continued to ripple through the city's activist community. There's an even greater distrust of Portland police now, some say. Many have become wary or suspicious of political newcomers, making some groups more insular and exclusive.

"It's already a circular firing squad, and people are paranoid," McKelvey said. "More and more people are being accused of becoming informants."

Davies reports having quit activism and rarely venturing downtown out of fear.

Many former friends maintain Portland police are to blame for what happened to Davies and express being worried. Yet they are also reluctant to reach out.

"June's someone who needs support, I think," Brown said. "A lot of us are concerned."

Davies finds the concern disingenuous. "They're not defending me," Davies said. "They're just throwing me under the bus even more."

-- Shane Dixon Kavanaugh

skavanaugh@oregonian.com

503-294-7632 || @shanedkavanaugh