Participating in a public protest is always a kind of self-congratulatory performance even if you are perfectly sincere.
You have picked a time and a place to do it — to coincide with other like-minded individuals. The impact of such an action is unclear. The actions of one person or even a group of people rarely cause great changes. Most of the time, the protest is seen by a limited number of people, and chances are, many were sympathetic to your cause anyway.
Events like this have an element of zany fun — people are dressed in silly outfits, sometimes dancing or chanting silly slogans (at this particular event, the leader of the cheers was a long-haired lady wearing star-studded bluejeans and a cowboy hat). Apparently people dressed in frog outfits were arrested in a recent protest, so now people dressed in dinosaur or frog costumes have started popping up at events. Most people brought signs (most were hand-made). Some had simple messages (“We don’t do Kings,” “Due Process for Everyone,” “RESIST!” “No Kings, No ICE!” ). Some had longer, deeper messages (“When tyranny becomes law, rebellion becomes duty”).
I talked to lots of people at the protest of all ages and ethnicities. Surprisingly, at least half of the attendees seemed to be over 50 years old. I met several grandmothers; one of them said, “I am here protesting for my grandchildren; they shouldn’t have to grow up in a society like this.” I met librarians, high school teachers, veterans, unemployed people concerned about the future. Most of the attendees showed a visceral dislike of Trump (several signs even had profanities directed towards him). Several mentioned the outrages of ICE; some mentioned Trump’s reckless foreign policy actions; my own sign referred to “Trump’s Idiocies,” and indeed, one woman held up a sign saying, “NO SIGN IS BIG ENOUGH TO LIST ALL THE REASONS I’M HERE”).
I have seen political protests in my days as a Peace Corps volunteer in Eastern Europe. To protest corrupt pyramid schemes sanctioned by the Albanian government, my university students went on strike, held protests and even held hunger strikes. I’ve seen demonstrators arrested, and I have seen demonstrators retaliate against police forces trying to “control” their actions. Back in the 1990s, I thought my students in Ukraine and Albania were not politically engaged enough (even though they always had opinions about their country’s politics). Then suddenly they became engaged. To my surprise, in the 2000s, the unendingly corrupt Ukraine government faced street protests that became bigger and harder to ignore.
Of course, Ukraine is in a volatile situation now (partially because of Trump’s unwillingness to uphold our NATO alliance or respond forcefully to outright aggressions). But the lesson of the Ukraine Maidan protests in the 2000s may be instructive and even hopeful. When talking to people at the protests, what I heard most from them was that Trump has gone too far, and that the tables are starting to turn. Maybe so, but the United States is a big messy place, elections are a long time from now, and the federal judicial system has been way too accommodating to Trump’s stalling tactics. In the meantime, Trump has continued defunding science, disarming regulatory agencies, demonizing political opponents, spreading misinformation and letting his underlings misuse the instruments of power.
How do we respond? What can we do? I can’t say. But it was nice hearing the honking of car horns and the enthusiasm of car passengers for the signs and people they saw. It was also nice talking to people who felt just like me and felt just as exasperated and helpless. Sometimes you can watch the news reports and social media reports and convince yourself that politics is like a spectator event — like a boxing match or a circus. The bad news is that Trump and his gang are just going to get worse; they will continue to do more horrifying things, and it may take a long time for today’s leaders in the private sector and education to figure out how to overcome it. But it can be helpful to meet and talk with other people who feel the same way you do — and hear how they are coping.
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