Juggalos are one of the last remaining great American subcultures. They live by their own rules, speak their own “language,” and have their own customs. They also don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks about them.
By definition, they’re Insane Clown Posse fans based mostly in Detroit, but you can find them scattered all over the country. Every year they travel to the southernmost tip of Illinois for the annual Gathering of the Juggalos. It’s a week when they dress how they want to dress and say what they want to say, surrounded by the peers that they consider family. Juggalos are obsessed with family. Persecuted by their peers, the media, and even the FBI (for real, the FBI considers them a gang), they take a lot of shit during the year but look forward to the gathering, where they can finally let their guard down and chill with their fellow Juggalo homies.
I’ve been lucky enough to attend two gatherings and have tried to capture the spirit of family and community of the festival. On the outside they may look intimidating, but once you get to know them, they’re some of the most accepting and misunderstood groups of people.
To sum it up, Juggalos inspire me.
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