Our newsroom planned for more chaos across the UK. Instead, we got hope

I’ll be the first to admit that journalists are raised on a steady diet of scepticism and, as my British colleagues would say, a heavy dollop of cynicism.
So when we started receiving reports from the ground that more race riots across the United Kingdom would be met with counterprotests, we did what most newsrooms would do – we still planned for the worst.
After all, thousands of police had been deployed across the country in anticipation of 100 more far-right riots, after several days of unrest. Despite government threats of more arrests and heavy sentences for rioters, the loud minority of far-right, xenophobic protesters, emboldened by their online disinformation echo chambers, seemed ready to double down, no matter the cost.
We swiftly jumped into action, launching live coverage in the run-up to the planned protests. The first few hours provided our audience with a window into the collective breath immigrants and Muslims were holding in cities across the UK, fearing what could come next.
Meanwhile, I was busy trying to sort security for our reporters on the ground, and reminding them to put their safety first and not to “be brave”. Being in the field, allured by the responsibility to tell a huge story and tell it well, tends to be both an asset and a blind spot even to the best of journalists.
“So many people I’m speaking to are so scared,” one of my team members in London texted me.
“I can’t imagine how Isaac’s family must feel.”
She was referring to my British, Muslim, brown husband, and suddenly, the professional became personal, and I started to worry.
Checking in with his family soon afterwards, three things were true at that moment. There had been no riots yet in his small hometown. There had been rumours that far-right protesters planned to drive down from the larger city of Birmingham to change that. And, despite the calm, some people in the community were scared and questioning their place in the only home they’ve known.
It would be an understatement to say what transpired later that evening, at some of the epicentres of the planned far-right protests, was remarkable.
The “silent majority” many often speak of, often in rebellion to the ones who hog typical news coverage, showed up – except this time, they were loud.
Tens of thousands of counterprotesters filled the streets of major cities, peacefully marching against racism with signs like “Refugees welcome”, “Stop pretending your racism is patriotism”, and “When hate is loud, love must be louder”.
The huge far-rights protests failed to materialise.
And suddenly, our coverage plan shifted to a positive outcome to the original story we had prepared for.
Despite what may come next, it was a rare opportunity for our reporters to cover what has sadly become novel against the backdrop of current events this year: a sincere showing of humanity.