“I know some of you are tired. Some of you have been doing this work for longer than I have been alive. I know that it can seem hopeless; like there is nothing we can do. But that’s not true. If we didn’t have power then the Trump administration wouldn’t have deployed the National Guard to suppress our speech.”
These were the words I addressed to an audience of 85 people at my hometown’s No Kings Rally in Marysville, Kansas, the morning of June 14th. Over the previous weeks, I had spent time coordinating with speakers, sitting down with local law enforcement to go over protest protocol, and getting word out about the demonstration. While 85 may seem like a small figure, especially against the backdrop of the approximate 5 million people who marched that day, I was proud of our crowd of farmers, small business owners, veterans, teachers, librarians, political organizers, and students.
In my very conservative high school, I was known for my “outlandish,” liberal politics and would often debate with my American Government teacher in front of twenty classmates. Although I found support among a few liberal adults in my community, I often felt I was on an island because of the lack of visibility of progressive ideology. Many members of my community have expressed similar sentiments to me; some are even too apprehensive to publicly contribute to discourse or exercise their freedom of expression for fear of retaliation from their employers. No Kings is having a real impact in making progressives feel safe and seen in my town.
Today, there is a fervent debate over how effective the No Kings movement is. Some argue that it’s performative—a role that establishment Democrats play on Saturdays while achieving no meaningful change. Conservatives claim that its purpose is null and void, as President Trump is simply exercising the mandate the American people gave him. House Speaker Mike Johnson even described the protests as the “hate America rally,” bringing together “the Marxists, socialists, Antifa advocates, anarchists and pro-Hamas wing of the far left Democrat party.” Regardless of which perspective you subscribe to, it’s almost impossible to deny that the No Kings movement is historic in size, given its recent 7 million participant demonstration in October, and has transformed communities like mine socially and politically.
What is forgotten in the criticism surrounding No Kings is the fact that social movements, especially those in their infancy, are often messy, disjointed, and contain growing pains. After all, No Kings’ first demonstration was in June—just five months ago! The Civil Rights Movement certainly did not write a comprehensive boycott and policy contingency plan in five months. Lucretia Mott and Elizabeth Cady Stanton did not codify women’s suffrage just five months after being prohibited from the World Anti-Slavery Convention either. In addition, these movements are about much more than just policy. For example, codifying access is certainly incredibly important for trans youth, but I’d argue that community safety for trans youth is more reliable and important than policy given today’s political landscape.
Not sure about my claim? Think about how our back-and-forth polarized political landscape has left the LGBTQ+ community in limbo. The impact of going from President Obama to President Trump to President Biden to Trump again has left many of us wondering just how much longer we will be able to hold onto our right to marry who we love and access life-saving healthcare. Especially considering that some in the Democratic establishment have blamed transgender rights on Harris’ 2024 loss and are considering outright abandoning the trans community, it has become abundantly clear that the government is not a stable source of permanent public policy support for the LGBTQ+ community. Instead, our family members, friends, neighbors, church leaders, and community members are the ones who will keep us safe, stepping in when we need to flee dangerous states and being an unapologetic defender of our livelihoods.
No Kings can help create this vital sense of safety. I would like to bring you back to my hometown. Marysville, Kansas, is a northeastern rural town of 3,300 that sits 10 miles south of the Nebraska border and 150 miles west of Kansas City. It is a farming and manufacturing community with staunch conservative politics (in 2024, President Trump received around ~75% of the vote). For as long as I can remember, a Trump flag has been displayed on the billboard sitting across from our Walmart parking lot. The only exception was in April 2023 when it was replaced by a “Nikki Haley for President” flag, only to be replaced by another Trump flag just a few months later.
The sense of safety and camaraderie that progressives such as myself have found in Marysville through gatherings like the No Kings protests has been remarkable. While I agree that No Kings on its face has yet to yield policy change, one of the most important attributes of this movement is the fact that it forms, mobilizes, and strengthens communities. Although Marysville’s turnout of 78 people in October may pale in comparison to the 7 million that marched nationwide, the impact of our small rallies continues to reach hundreds in the wider area through direct action, community building and youth engagement.
Let me tell you more about this work. First, we integrated food drives into our demonstrations to combat food insecurity within our community. This aspect of our No Kings rallies has been particularly important, especially during a time when SNAP benefits have come under threat, exacerbating food insecurity for families in our area. As future No Kings rallies are planned, I encourage organizers to integrate a service component into their demonstrations, whether it’s through food donations, a clothing drive, or fundraising for a charitable gender-affirming care fund. This will not only directly support vulnerable communities in the area, which should be a large goal of all of these protests, but shift the narrative of No Kings protests from performative to proactive.
Next, our rallies have transformed the small progressive community I had in high school into a larger, louder support system. When more people in my community speak out against President Trump, it signals to others that they’re not alone in their disillusionment with the administration, and compels them to use their voice too. This has been particularly impactful because not only are more people becoming engaged in politics, but marginalized individuals in my community feel safer due to a wider support system.
This component is important when considering the argument that characterizes No Kings protests as “performative,” given that tens of thousands of rural folks actively risk their social and physical safety to organize and participate in these protests. This threat is real. For example, a couple in my community was harassed in a bar in 2020 because they had participated in the local Black Lives Matter protest.
Finally, although I was the only openly liberal student at my high school, I know of a handful of students at my alma mater who now speak in support of progressive politics both online and at school not only due to the students who first spoke up, such as myself, but because of the visibility of No Kings protests and other progressive movements. This shows that more young people are not only paying attention to politics, but investing time and resources in it. Now, my local Democratic Party is reaching local youth to support our social media presence, solicit youth feedback on policy issues, and mentor the next generation of young, progressive leaders in our area.
To say that the No Kings movement still has significant room for growth would be an understatement. In my opinion, a clear set of goals and the integration of community service components (i.e. food banks, disaster relief, clothing drives) are among the most important considerations. Nevertheless, this does not negate the fact that the movement has already left an impact on American society by mobilizing millions, cultivating community, and engaging with future generations of political leaders.
by Ari Cook
