Protesting in 2025: Why Resistance Still Works (and Why They Want You to Think It Doesn’t)

Civil Rights March Photo: Library of Congress Unsplash

This Is What Democracy Looks Like: Protesting Then & Now—And Why It Still Works

Yesterday, I stood among hundreds of men and women in Eugene, holding signs, chanting, and feeling the honks of solidarity—along with the occasional middle finger from passing cars. The chants were familiar: This is what democracy looks like.

The fight felt familiar, too—women of my generation locking eyes with the same exhausted disbelief: How the hell are we still fighting for this?

Reproductive rights. LGBTQ+ rights. Basic human dignity.

I’ve been in the streets more times than I can count—marching, chanting, locking arms with strangers who, for that moment, felt like family.

My First Protesting Arrest: The Trojan Nuclear Plant Occupation

In December 1977, I was one of 123 people arrested at the Trojan Nuclear Power Plant. It was one of the first occupations of a nuclear facility—organized by the Trojan Decommissioning Alliance—and a direct challenge to the unchecked expansion of nuclear power.

My fear wasn’t just about radiation or catastrophic failure—it was about the waste. No one had answers on where to store it, how to keep it contained for generations, or what long-term damage we were unleashing. It was the kind of willful ignorance that makes my skin crawl.

But that protest? It was actually a hell of a lot of fun.

Sheriffs rolled in with buses like we were some kind of dangerous insurgency, and we were carted off in a mass arrest. We had a trial, the charges were dropped, and the fight continued. Fifteen years later, Trojan was shut down permanently.

Take Back the Night: Confronting the Fear We Grew Up With

I don’t remember my first Take Back the Night march exactly, but Los Angeles, maybe 1980, stands out. Hundreds of women marching through the streets after dark—shouting, chanting, refusing to let fear keep us inside.

And as I walked, I realized something that shook me: I was afraid of the dark.

Not in the way children are afraid of monsters under the bed, but in the way women are taught to fear—because darkness belongs to men, to danger, to all the things that could happen to you if you dare to take up space at the wrong time, in the wrong place.

But that night, we took it back.

From Then to Now: International Women’s Day, 2025

This weekend’s International Women’s Day protest in Eugene had that same fire. It wasn’t a march—it was a street demonstration, stretching across the Ferry Street Bridge, holding signs, taking up space.

The messages were sharp, defiant, and sometimes funny:
🚩 THIS MUSK STOP!
🚩 BAD DOGE!
🚩 SMELLS LIKE FASCISM.
🚩 THE ONLY MINORITY DESTROYING AMERICA IS THE BILLIONAIRES.

Even after all these years, I still get that same feeling at protests: the exhaustion, the anger, but also the sheer joy of resistance.

We are not alone. And we are not done.

Protests Built This Country—And They Still Work

And you know what?

Protesting works

• 1973 – Abortion rights weren’t granted by politicians. They were demanded by people who marched, organized, and refused to back down.

• 1992/93 – Trojan Nuclear Plant? Shut down permanently after years of relentless protests.

• 2015 – Gay marriage became law after decades of grassroots fights.

Every right we have today was won—not given. By people taking to the streets. By people making noise.

Standing on the Shoulders of Giants

Our protests didn't emerge from a vacuum. We stood on the shoulders of those who fought before us:

• Civil Rights Movement – Black Americans risked everything for the right to vote, to end segregation, to be treated as equals. Their courage laid the groundwork for all subsequent fights for justice.

• Stonewall Riots (1969) – LGBTQ+ individuals, led by transgender women of color like Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera, said enough to police brutality, sparking the modern gay liberation movement.

• Labor Strikes & Worker Uprisings – From the early 1900s to now, workers have gone on strike to demand fair wages, decent conditions, and the right to unionize. Every labor protection we have today is because of these battles.

These earlier struggles taught us that resistance is essential and that change is possible.

Why Protest Feels Exhausting—But Why It’s More Important Than Ever

I get it. I’ve been protesting since the '70s. I know how it feels to stand in the street and wonder if it matters.

But here’s the thing: authoritarians want us to feel exhausted. They count on it.

They want us to be too tired, too cynical, too numb to fight back. They want us to believe it’s useless. But history proves otherwise.

And we are far from alone.

Political Violence Against Women: The Reality We Face

The last few weeks have been a chilling reminder of what happens when women refuse to stay silent. Women being physically dragged out of town halls in 2025 for daring to speak up? It’s something out of a dystopian novel. And it’s happening right now.

• A woman in Idaho was forcibly removed by off-duty sheriffs acting as private security—dragged out like she wasn’t even human.

• Kristi Burke in Tennessee fact-checked a Republican representative, was overcome with exhaustion, sat down, and that’s when they arrested her.

• Women are being silenced, shoved out of rooms, physically restrained—because they dared to speak.

We were raised to be polite. To be agreeable. To not be too loud or take up too much space. Seeing women physically removed just for using their voices cuts deep because it confirms a fear many of us have always had: If you get too loud, they will punish you.

And that’s exactly why we can’t stop now.

From Silencing Women to Criminalizing Protest

Trump has openly floated the idea of arresting ‘illegal’ protesters. His allies have whispered about martial law. They want us to hesitate—to weigh the risks before we even leave the house. What if I get arrested? What if this gets violent? That’s not paranoia. That’s the system working exactly as intended.

But here’s the thing: fear is a suppression tactic. They don’t need to arrest a million people—they just need to make enough of us afraid of being next. This is how every authoritarian power grab begins: criminalizing resistance, escalating punishments, making people feel isolated. But we’re not isolated. And history has already proven that the ones who refuse to be silenced are the ones who shift the tide.

This isn’t the first time they’ve tried this. Suffragettes were beaten and jailed for demanding the vote. Civil Rights activists were hosed down and locked up under ‘law and order’ crackdowns. ACT UP protesters were arrested for demanding action on the AIDS crisis. And yet—every one of those movements won.

Fear is the last, and often strongest, weapon of those clinging to control. If they weren’t afraid of us, they wouldn’t be escalating. If they weren’t feeling threatened, they wouldn’t be working this hard to crush dissent.

The Balance of Kindness vs. Loud Resistance

Kristi Burke said something that stuck with me: Know when to be compassionate. Know when to be loud.

This is a tightrope many of us walk daily. How do we balance kindness with the need to be disruptive?

• History shows that change doesn’t happen through politeness alone. Every major movement—from suffrage to civil rights—only saw real victories when people got loud.

• At the same time, activism is sustainable when it builds bridges, not just rage.

We need both. We need compassion for those who might be swayed—and unapologetic defiance against those who seek to strip our rights away.

Practical Action Steps: Fighting Back Without Burning Out

1. Get On Email & Text Alerts for Protests & Organizing

• Sign up for groups like Indivisible, ACLU, MoveOn

• Follow activists and journalists who report on direct actions

• Watch local grassroots pages for last-minute protests

2. Call Your Representatives

• Call (202) 224-3121 (Capitol Switchboard)

• Use 5 Calls (app/website) for scripts & numbers

• Call weekly. It matters more than you think - even if your representatives are Democrats.

3. Build an Accountability Crew

• Carpool to protests (like I did with my neighbors)

• Rotate responsibilities: One person finds protests, one tracks legislation, etc.

• One of the things my neighbors and I have done is a text chain for ideas—letting each other know about upcoming events.

• If you can’t march? Support in other ways. Research, write, donate—“Point and Pay,” like my feisty 90-year-old friend Joni would say.

  
  Activism is easier with community.

4. Use Social Media to Amplify the Truth

• Post protest footage & tag journalists

• Share legislation updates, action steps

• Correct disinformation (but don’t waste energy on trolls)

5. Pressure the Media to Cover Protests

• Call & email outlets when they downplay activism

• Submit Letters to the Editor

• Tag journalists in posts about protests

6. Direct Support: Fund Activists & Legal Aid

• Donate to bail funds, mutual aid networks, legal defense orgs

7. Know Your Protest Rights

• Write down emergency contacts

• Stay with a buddy

• Know what to do if detained (never talk without a lawyer)

Final Thoughts: Activism Isn’t Just One Thing

If you’re feeling exhausted? That’s not a personal failure—it’s proof that you’re fighting for something that matters.

Not everyone can march. Not everyone can yell. But that doesn’t mean you’re not part of this fight.

Organizing, educating, amplifying—every movement needs people behind the scenes.

• If you’re exhausted, donate.

• If you’re scared to protest, spread information.

• If you don’t know where to start, ask.

Because silence isn’t neutral—it’s exactly what they’re counting on.

They wouldn’t be trying this hard to stop us if they weren’t afraid of what we could accomplish.

Disclaimer: This blog shares my reflections on mental health but is not a substitute for therapy. The advice is general and may not fit everyone. If you're struggling, please seek support from a licensed mental health professional.