Like many of you, I’m feeling a bit of whiplash from the sheer speed and scale of the changes President Donald Trump is trying to force through via executive order. Some of you have told me you’ve stopped watching the news altogether. You’ve tuned out, shut down, and chosen not to engage.
Please don’t. Because if you do, he wins.
Protest is at the heart of this country. It’s in our DNA — and when done right, it leads to real change.
Lately, I’ve realized something surprising: I’m an optimist. Despite the political tsunami crashing down on us, I still see a way forward. I believe there’s a path for us, even as executive orders pile up and our Constitution is strained under the weight of authoritarian ambition. Yes, I’ll say it: this isn’t politics as usual. This is an attempt to sidestep democracy and centralize power.
I could list all the ways this administration is putting our democracy in harm’s way. But you already know them because you’ve felt them—in your wallets, in your families, and in your communities. We’re all living through rising prices caused by tariffs, cuts in programs we rely on, the fear of agencies like ICE causing chaos.
So instead, let me tell you why I still have hope and how we fight back.
I’ve been protesting for the last 61 years. I was 13 in 1964 when my grandmother took me to my first civil rights demonstration. Last week, my husband Jason and I marched in one of the 1,200+ protests that took place across America. Millions of us took to the streets. And what struck me most was this: it wasn’t a march organized by one group with printed signs and sanitary slogans. This was different.
Everywhere I looked were homemade signs. Personal signs. Stories on cardboard. Each one a window into someone’s life touched by this administration’s policies — people who had lost jobs, researchers whose grants were stripped, seniors worried about Social Security, children losing school lunches, farmers struggling under tariffs, LGBT Americans fearing the rollback of hard-won rights, women fighting for access to healthcare, park rangers protecting public lands. These weren’t just signs. They were truths.
So what can you do—beyond marching? Plenty.
Jason and I hung both an American flag and a rainbow flag outside our home. A simple act, but one that says: We are here. We are watching. We won’t be silent. You can do the same. Hang a flag, put a sign in your window, display your values. It doesn’t have to be a rainbow. It can be about Social Security, food prices, climate, reproductive rights, or whatever speaks to you. Just let it speak loudly.
Talk to people. Speak up in conversations. Even holding hands in public, for some of us, has become an act of protest. And if marching isn’t for you, support those who are. Donate if you can. Share resources. Spread the message.
Because this much is true: change only comes when the people are visible and loud. Change only comes when the opposition is forced to pay attention.
Some say there’s a Republican stone wall, but here’s what I know: stone walls crack under enough pressure, especially when elections roll around. If people stay loud, if voters stay angry, even that wall will fall. Politicians fear only one thing more than accountability: losing their seat.
We have to keep the heat on through the midterms. And if things continue down this path, I truly believe even Republicans will begin to fall off that wall and side with the people.
Is that too optimistic? Maybe.
But I believe in America. I believe in democracy. And I believe in the power of Americans. When we stand together, we right the course.