What next? Musings on protest, movement, and change

On April 5, 2025, millions of Americans took to the streets to protest myriad issues, ranging from wanting the unelected South African out of our government, the inhumane treat of immigrants, the tariffs, and the overall destruction of our societal framework.

The protests were organized as part of the 50501 movement and promoted as Hands Off—telling Trump to keep his hands off our democracy and programs and structure that is vital for a functioning country.

Here in Maine, there were protests across the state, from our state capital in Augusta to our largest city, Portland, to towns across the state of varying sizes. It seems similar turnout occurred across the nation and not just in liberal strongholds. In some of the reddest, Trump-supporting places, people came out to express their opposition to the direction this country is headed.

Probably the most surprising location to me was The Villages. The Villages is a retirement community, twenty miles south of Ocala, Fla., which has been a Trump stronghold for eons. Yet it’s reported that nearly 2,000 residents of The Villages turned out to tell Trump to get his hands off our democracy. Welp! The tide is slowly turning as disgruntled supporters of Trump’s start to realize that whatever they expected isn’t happening and that maybe their golden con man really isn’t down for them.

The images on social media of the actions across the nation show millions of people with thoughtful and cute signs, singing and joining together to raise their voices. Many of the events appeared to be family-friendly as families went out to do their part to save the country. Many smiling faces, as friends and neighbors gathered. There were virtually no reports of violence, though I did see a clip of a MAGA supporter pulling a firearm out on protestors in Indiana. From what I have seen and heard, police presence was kept to a minimum at most actions.

By all accounts, attendees went home feeling a renewed sense of hope, especially coming on the heels of U.S. Sen. Cory Booker’s epic and record-breaking speech a few days earlier on the Senate floor. Many on social media who went out left feeling the day was a success. After all, it was peaceful, and nothing bad happened. Instead, a good time was had by all.

It looks like there is another protest scheduled for later in the month and no doubt many will take to the streets again.

And this is where I must take a detour from the feel-good nature of the moment, bringing an activist/organizer lens. If one looks closely at the footage floating around of the various gatherings across the nation, there is something missing.

In many instances, these protests were homogenous gatherings, where there were few if any BIPOC folks—particularly Black folks—in attendance and the after-protest chatter amongst experienced organizers is one of concern and dismay.

Historically, the nature of protest is to create change and do that by disrupting the status quo. There has never been significant social or political change given because people gathered and asked nicely. Civil rights never would have been won had people, especially Black people, not been willing to take significant risks—including risking their lives. The LGBTQ rights movement didn’t start as a pleasant Saturday morning gathering with cute signs; that started with a literal riot.

At this moment, our country is on life support as democracy possibly takes its last breath on any given day and, well, we as a country find ourselves at a crossroads for how to regain control, in part because we are an utterly divided country.

Even though from 2014 to  2020 there were widespread protests nationally and internationally in support of the Black Lives Matter movement, this moment is revealing given that for many Americans, they have never ventured outside their bubbles of comfort. Let me be blunt: White Americans have, by and large, never ventured outside their bubbles of comfort.

The nature of my day job puts me in contact with several white organizers who are reporting an increase in white folks who have never attended a protest or “this kind of thing” showing up now. I am not the only one getting these reports, Black organizers and activists, on and offline, are hearing similar things and—at a time when we need to unify against the twin horrors of the guy with orange makeup and Ketamine Ken—our longstanding and unresolved racial and class issues are a barrier.

If we are going to have a fighting chance, I think this is where we need to acknowledge these tensions and give them some space.

While I offered background and emotional support to several white organizers, I didn’t attend the Saturday protests and was asked by several white people why I wasn’t attending. It came down to risk. My work has always carried a level of risk with it and having weathered the first Trump term and seeing what is happening now with dissent in this country, I am choosing to be strategic in how I move.

I also believe that strategically, if more Black and brown people show up at these protests, there is a greater likelihood of seeing more police and a militarized response. We saw in 2020 how Trump responded to many of the Black Lives Matter protests across the country. I also know that many Black and brown activists between 2014 and 2020 had their lives destroyed by the government. The optics of Black and brown folks in the streets can be turned into a reason for martial law immediately. But nice middle aged and older white folks? The optics of bringing out the National Guard on nice white people is a much harder sell. While I believe this administration will think nothing of instituting martial law on all citizens, I think race matters as far as when we might see that escalation.

That means having white folks in the movement who understand this and are willing to leverage their whiteness beyond the moment. Unfortunately, too many people who are being activated currently have never developed a racial or class analysis and instead are coming to protests with a sense of privilege and entitlement—and it’s deepening the fissures.

We find ourselves in an unprecedented moment in our country’s history and also in our history of protest, where the rules and norms that we understood no longer are relevant. For most of our modern history, protests and change movements were led by marginalized people and at this moment, it simply isn’t as safe to fall back on those norms for change. Which means white people entering an arena that historically hasn’t been theirs. Particularly class-privileged white people.

It means we find ourselves in a superficial feeling-good moment, where elementary-level organizing mistakes occur and for seasoned organizers, it can be frustrating and cringe to witness. It can also create tensions when feedback is given, but here’s the thing: Our collective long-term survival requires a willingness to embrace the messy aspects of this new paradigm.

Humility and grace are needed. Humility for white folks as they learn more about effective organizing and protest and grace for themselves as they lean into that humility and for the rest of us, the ability to extend grace towards these newcomers and understand that mistakes will occur. Especially where many of us are not in leadership or front-line positions in this new era of organizing and when, for the first time in our lives, we are seeing white Americans truly take a lead role. We are watching privileged people realize the limits of their privilege in a new world order and, well, I am not white, but I suppose there is real heartbreak in realizing the system that you thought worked for you has decided you are as disposable as others have always been.

Regardless of how it comes across for marginalized people, the fact is that there is a sense of grief for many white Americans as they start to see the flimsy framework of whiteness disappear and turn on them. Grief is real. Whether it is losing a loved one, a job, or a sense of identity.

Moving forward, there is still work to do and people need to understand that the change that is needed will require more than a catchy sign and showing up. What is the ask? How does the action tie in with the ask? While good feelings and a sense of camaraderie are great, are you leaving the protest with actionable goals and steps? Are there groups and organizations you can access and join? Are you getting a sense of how to build or grow community? Lastly, what about mutual aid? Are there opportunities to join local mutual aid efforts? As the economy spirals downward, mutual aid will become more vital, especially at the local level. Thanks to the administration, food insecurity is about to increase significantly as food banks and pantries are starting to feel the cuts as jobs are lost and inflation increases.

I struggled in writing this piece because as a Black woman, there is a lot of pain in this moment. The inability for the white majority to listen to Black women in decades past is a large part of why we are in this communal fire. The disregard for our experience and leadership, the superficial praise given to us that rarely leads to change or support—and yet, I am old enough to understand that my anger won’t save me. Nor will my simmering silence.

Our collective house is on fire and action is needed now.

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Image by Daniel Lerman via Unsplash