In one of my first columns after I returned from retirement to write twice a month as a freelancer, I speculated about whether I ever could become a political participant instead of a journalistic observer.

I explained that I’ve always been most comfortable as a lurker, positioned anonymously in the background watching politicians and activists do what they do and writing about it.

Journalists are not supposed to participate in the events they’re covering. In fact, the professional preference is to avoid participating in public life at all. Some of my colleagues wouldn’t even register with a political party to preserve the perception of nonpartisanship, which in Pennsylvania means they couldn’t vote in primary elections. You generally won’t find journalists signing petitions, displaying campaign yard signs, running for office.

Conflicts of interest. Forbidden.

But that’s not me anymore. I retired in 2018, which I guess left me free to join things and do things and say things. Still, it felt unnatural.

I explained in that March 2020 column that my wife — also a retired journalist — and I had been seriously considering participating in an anti-gerrymandering rally in Harrisburg before it was canceled because of COVID. But could we really bring ourselves to march, or chant or — gulp — hold a sign? We never found out.

Then I became a freelance columnist, which complicated matters. I’m a private citizen, twice a month expressing my opinions and/or attempting to entertain readers. Am I a journalist again or just a retired guy who has a paid outlet for his writing?

I can tell you that we still don’t put out yard signs. I decline to sign candidates’ petitions. I don’t make political contributions.

But if I’m being honest with myself, that’s more a matter of habit than a professional responsibility.

And let’s face it, if you read my columns, you have no doubt where I stand on a wide variety of issues, particularly the state of our federal government and the man who inhabits our increasingly tacky-looking White House.

I try to be fair and to base my opinions on facts, but there is no presumption of neutrality for someone like me, particularly when it comes to what is happening to our country under Donald Trump. I tell you what I think, and you are free to agree, disagree or even to call me an idiot.

Which brings me to No Kings Day.

Last fall, my wife and I were tied up at our grandsons’ soccer games much of No Kings Day, but we did cruise down Salisbury Township’s Cedar Crest Boulevard near the end to honk, cheer and wave at the sign-wielding throng.

Last Saturday, we had no such youth sports conflict. And as someone who has spent the last several months urging readers to rise up in every way they can to confront and combat the horrors of ICE, the spread of hate and the politics of anger and fear, I realized that lurking no longer is a defensible option, for me or anyone else.

So we decided to join the effort. I came up with a slogan for a sign — “Make Orwell Fiction Again” (stolen from the internet) — and asked my more artistic daughter and grandsons to write the words on a piece of posterboard we had in the garage.

My wife, a features editor in our former life and a true introvert, was willing to join the crowd lining Cedar Crest, but she was dubious about holding a sign. Still, when we actually got out there, it was tough not to get caught up in the energy of a booming movement to take our country back from Trump and all the sycophants and cowards who have allowed him to run roughshod over 250 years of democracy and take us to war.

I still had my reporter’s notebook with me so I could write down the funniest signs and other observations, but it quickly dawned on me that I was not there to report on someone else’s activism.

I was part of it.

So I held up our sign, which drew compliments from a retired English teacher and several others who know about “1984.” I edged my way out to the road so passing motorists could see it.

My reluctant wife? She took the sign from me and held it up herself, perhaps inspired by her favorite sign: “So Bad Even Introverts Are Here.”

In case you heard about the rally only on Fox or some other MAGA mouthpiece, I’ll report that neither George Soros nor any of his surrogates were handing out checks. I heard no anti-American slogans, saw no signs for Hamas or Hezbollah. I saw no political leaders issuing instructions or making speeches.

What I saw was ordinary Americans of all ages who want to make America America again and realize their voices and especially their votes are what will make it happen. They made a powerful statement, not just here but all over the country, by the millions.

They were saying: We will not give in to hate. We will not give in to fear. We are a nation of laws, not tyrants. Freedom, not oppression. Science, not ignorance. Welcome, not exclusion. Truth, not lies.

I was proud to be one of them.

This is a contributed opinion column. Bill White can be reached at whitebil1974@gmail.com.The views expressed in this piece are those of its individual author, and should not be interpreted as reflecting the views of this publication. Do you have a perspective to share? Learn more about how we handle guest opinion submissions at themorningcall.com/opinions.