Hello, friend.
Thank you for being here.
Were you surprised to see an email from me turn up in your inbox this week?
Sometimes, schedules and routines are meant to be broken.
Unlike my usual way of doing things, I’m not waiting. I’m sharing this essay now—not letting it simmer until next week or even for a few days. I’m not editing and reediting. Just sending it out. Perfect it is not. Passionate, it is.
Urgency.
It’s the times, right?
If you’re moved to do so, please click the heart button, comment, and restack. Doing any or all helps support my work because you’re telling others you feel this essay is worth reading.
Let’s have a conversation about protesting and whether or not you think a line has been crossed, too.
And, of course, I want to know—are you a reluctant, peaceful warrior, too?
Let’s talk in the comments.
PROTEST
No Kings Day & a reluctant, peaceful warrior
On No Kings Day, Husband and I took part in a rally. It was my first political rally ever. I’m not proud of this admission. After all, there have been plenty of reasons to get out and protest long before June 14, 2025.
What was different this time?
Well, that’s what this ramble will explain. (hopefully) So hear me out.
America has always been violent, or rather violence has always been part of America.
I grew up in the 60s, so one of my early memories from childhood is lining up after gym class and knowing something horrible was going on because my third-grade teacher was visibly upset. We were sent home early so our parents could deal with telling us about the horror of JFK’s assassination that infamous Friday afternoon in late November.
When we walked in the door after church the Sunday that followed, the next thing my young eyes witnessed was coverage of the killing of JFK’s assassin, Lee Harvey Oswald. One assassin taking out another assassin.
That weekend was my introduction to violence in America, political or otherwise. And what a weekend that was.
Then came Martin Luther King’s assassination followed by Robert Kennedy’s. There was Kent State, the Viet Nam war, the civil rights movement, and the women’s liberation movement. I was too young to march/protest in those causes, but watch on television, you bet I did.
Never for one second believe our children aren’t watching and being deeply impacted. Trust me, they are.
Jumping to more recent history, there have been many protests to get involved with, too, including: the Women’s March in 2017, demonstrations following the reversal of Roe vs Wade, gun safety reform marches, and many others—none of which I participated in. (Though, of course, I cared deeply and wrote about some.)
As I was getting ready to head out on No Kings Day, I watched the breaking news about another politically motivated assassination in my beloved home state of Minnesota. By now, you likely know the details of that heartbreaking story.
There was a cold-blooded assassination of Minnesota Democratic lawmaker Melissa Hortman and her husband—the horrific murder taking place right in their home in the middle of night. The assassin was a coward diguising himself as a police officer. Another couple, State Senator John Hoffman and his wife, were also shot, and they now face a long road of recovery. A list was discovered indicating the assassin had more victims he had planned to harm.
How does one recover from such a thing anyway?
I think you cannot. Ask any parent who’s had a child gunned down at school.
Upon hearing the disturbing news, one of the next thoughts that crossed my mind was Husband and I should reconsider, stay home. It might not be safe. Someone might show up with a gun. Someone might drive a vehicle into the crowd—the crowd we would be in.
Yes, these are thoughts Americans have these days when protesting and sometimes even when going about their normal day-to-day lives.
Is this really where we are?
Unfortunately, yes. Stoked hatred, fear, and violence—in all its ugly forms—have helped bring us to this moment.
So, again, why protest now?
I asked Husband this question, and below was his response:
It was Trump sending the military into California to stop American citizens from peacefully protesting against ICE and the manner in which immigrants were being treated (another form of violence) that did it for me. The constitutional rights of those protestors were being trampled on. The governor had said, no. We don’t want or need the interference (disguised as help). And yet...
For Husband, and perhaps for many, including me, it was the final straw.
I keep reading things like we need to hang onto hope. And love. And decency. And kindness. That goodness will prevail. Creatives need to keep creating. I need to keep writing. (Like I’d ever stop.) We can’t give in or give up. All these things are true.
But sometimes, as important as these things are, and if we are able, we need to do something more. Stepping out of one’s comfort zone is hard. I rarely do it. I don’t know when or even if I’ll do it again. (This is why I refer to myself as a reluctant, peaceful warrior.)
But on No Kings Day, I did. Millions of other Americans did too.
There were over 2,000 rallies that day. Sure, the ones in urban areas were impressive and got the most attention. But rallies took place in smaller communities like mine, too. Blue states. Red states. Fellow citizens decided to show up to say, enough. Each rally was a collective, welcoming, not even so much a partisan gathering of regular every-day people. Neighbors. People of all ages and backgrounds. All with a common goal.
For the most part, the rallies were peaceful and calm. Few incidences of violence were reported across the country. Thank God. Each rally, each person who attended or supported one, made a statement by their peaceful presence alone.
For me, the message behind No Kings Day was this:
Taking away our liberties, trampling on the constitution, political violence, hate speech, name calling—all these things are wrong and will not be tolerated. We will not be silenced.
We’ve reached a moment when a line has been crossed. Or rather, the final line because let’s face it, many lines have already been crossed. Complacency must end. But so must the rage, the vitriol, and the hatred.
It feels like a reckoning. A turning point. America is waking up. I hope so anyway. Resistance is palpable.
Do you feel it too?
No one is coming to save us. Certainly not our elected officials in DC. We have to do it. You and I. All who are able.
If it’s this simple, why is it so hard to do?
You might be wondering what my No Kings Day experience was like. Besides being wet and rainy, mostly, it was inspiring. It was uplifting to be among folks who feel as I do—that the American ideals we hold dear are worth standing up for. That silence isn’t an option. That doing the right thing matters.
It made me feel seen, heard, and less alone. (Something I’m always talking about, right?)
I didn’t get many good photos. It wasn’t easy with the rain, holding an umbrella and a sign, trying to avoid puddles, and paying attention to traffic. There were a lot of vehicles driving by honking horns and shouting words of encouragment. There was only one heckler—that I heard anyway.
Oaky, now what?
It’s not like this is the end. There is work ahead—hard work that will require sustained effort. I don’t know what comes next. I don’t have to know. But I will be paying attention and doing what I can.
Someone on social media commented with cynicism, “Well, what did you guys actually accomplish?”
My response: No Kings Day rekindled hope. Not just for me, but for a lot of people all across the country. And that matters. A lot.
Of course, hope without meaningful, peaceful action isn’t all that helpful. But it is something to build on.
As my friend Stephanie so eloquently wrote about our path ahead in her recent piece titled, PIVOT (a must read):
The coming days (the moment we feared but did not name) have arrived, and we all have to stay awake and do our part. Love those around you with all your might. Teach and model how to take a stand but stay centered in your heart. Not easy instructions, and it is the work ahead. Let’s reclaim our democracy one peaceful step at a time.
I love that, don’t you?
If you’re a long-time reader (thank you), you already know I’ve never been a fan of the war-metaphor language so loosely tossed around in Cancer Land. In fact, much of it I loathe. I’ve written about it countless times.
I’ve never referred to myself as a cancer warrior. I am not. Never was. Not in any way, shape, or form. (This is not to say I don’t respect those who do call themselves a cancer warrior.)
But today, the label of reluctant, peaceful warrior is one I am willing to wear—and wear proudly.
What about YOU?
I would love this essay to get more eyes on it. So, if you feel it has value, thank you for sharing/restacking it!
Now, let’s talk!
Do you consider yourself to be a reluctant, peaceful warrior?
Did you participate in a No Kings Day rally?
What other rallies have you supported in any way?
Do you feel a line has been crossed, too?
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Thank you for reading and being part of this discussion. I appreciate YOU!
As always, I see you. I hear you, and I care about what you have to say.
Until next time…
Take care of yourself, be kind to someone, and be a light.
With much gratitude,
Nancy
No need to apologize for not having marched or rallied before, Nancy. You did it this time, and this time couldn't be more important. Our numbers were so huge they couldn't be ignored, even by the press. We did what we'd set out to do and I'm hoping this won't be the end of it.
Saturday protests need to become a common practice for those of us out there trying to save the country we love from a bunch of worthless goons who think they'll get to own it all. They won't.
My own experience, in my relatively small town in a deep red county in Upper Michigan, was amazing. The crowd kept growing and growing and growing, and with each new band of arrivals my energy grew, as well, until it was through the roof! I had come off of a week-long retreat and, driving home on Friday, I was exhausted. I wondered if I would have the stamina for another long day standing, marching, yelling. Not that I would have missed it, but I doubted I would last for even an hour. Ha! I don't think I've come down yet.
We need this sort of validation. We need to know we're not alone. We need to understand that it is, in fact, we the people, and our job as citizens is to keep our country strong against all enemies. We're in the hands of the enemy now, and we know it. We proved we know it. Now we work harder to take them down, and we'll do it with People Power. That's what Saturday's turnout showed us. 💙
Yes. Yes. Yes. A line has been crossed. All people are worth standing up for I would consider myself a peaceful warrior and I also feel there is a place to utilize rage as fuel for transformation on the inside and the outside.
Excellent essay
Thank you, Nancy!