This has been a particularly grim year, I won’t lie to you. We just had the anniversary of the coup attempt, and two weeks and a shooting later we have the first anniversary of the second Trump administration (not even Grover Cleveland’s legacy is safe from Trump’s cosmic ability to smear his name on everything).
The feeling can be particularly dour most days when you read the headlines, keep up on the news, and analyze the details to appreciate the big picture. It’s part and parcel of the job of being a citizen instead of a subject, and at times like this it truly feels like grueling and thankless work.
But, protesting helps to change that. Being surrounded with like-minded patriotic citizens energizes you, it reminds you that you’re not alone. It reminds others that they’re not alone either. There’s a real power in that, which can invigorate your soul. Especially coming on the heels of the holiday season (which, let’s be frank, can be more trouble than it’s worth some years).
Protests are balms for the soul, but in places like Texas they serve an even bigger purpose: reminding us we’re not as isolated as we sometimes feel. You expect a crowd in New York, or Portland, or Los Angeles, for example. You expect it in cities dealing with the issue itself directly, like Minneapolis now and other cities across time.
What you often do not expect is support in your own backyard when you’re a liberal in a conservative bastion. And protests here can be a way to be pleasantly surprised. This is what happened when my wife and I attended the Free America walkout protest in our hometown.
I patched up another sign’s backside from NO KINGS and added this to it. Pro Tip: Always bring a double-sided sign, it’s twice the chance to seem clever or witty AND if you don’t you’re just wasting real estate on a pole and some tape.
A special “Thank you!” to my supporters on my Ko-Fi! Your donations have really come in handy during some tight spots over the past few months. As much as I hope to one day make this a paying job, I am so grateful for the help I get even now that enables me to sleep a little easier some days.
You’re the best, truly! Thank you so much for your support.
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My wife and I arrived at City Hall just before 2 PM. I had been nervous about the turnout: Fort Worth and Dallas drew big crowds, but the DFW is anchored by both. Arlington is a decent-sized city but it’s a small town compared to its two towering neighbors. I had told my wife over the weekend, “The only thing more embarrassing than no protest at all, is one where nobody shows up,” My wife had spotted signs and people from down the street while I looked for parking, so I felt a bit more relaxed by the time we turned the corner and saw the crowd.
There were already a few dozen, and it hadn’t even officially started yet. I’d brought some things with me from my PFLAG swag bag to set out on a voter registration and info table, and saw a bunch of bottles of water, free for taking, already waiting alongside the registration forms.
After introducing myself to the organizer (who was on the phone with the police because a counter-protestor had been spotted getting ready to attend, we’ll return to him later), putting things out, and checking in with people in my social circle (safety first, just in case), I joined my wife on the sidewalk near the road with my sign. I’d repurposed one from the last NO KINGS rally, after the reverse side had gotten water-logged and ruined.
More people started arriving, a decent cross-section of the city itself and not that different from the coalitions I’d seen at other rallies and marches: lots of older folks, lots of younger folks, middle aged folks, a broad coalition of colors and appearances. An older veteran with a big, sturdy pole bearing a protest sign and mini cowbells was already there, ringing the bells every time cars driving past honked in support. My wife had asked why I was bringing a mini pride flag as we left, only for several more to show up on signs or people’s persons as the protest went on.
The music started shortly after 2 PM CT, and the mood quickly got even more upbeat. Finally, at about 2:15, the mythical counter-protestor showed up:
The sign does indeed read “RIP Charlie”. Pro Tip, buddy: block letters are your friend with signs.
I have referred to him in the singular every time, because he was literally by himself.
I was not the only one in attendance to notice the hilarity of him holding a sign that read “WE” without anyone else on his side to join him. He seemed quite pleased with himself at first, and I assumed that more than anything else he was simply hoping for attention, good or bad. The people running the sound system encouraged everyone to simply pay him no mind, and dedicated a song to him: “Why Can’t We Be Friends?”. Musical counter-trolling continued in between old reliables and crowd requests.
The inflatables from Frogtifa were here.
Here, there, and everywhere. The inflatable suits aren’t going away anytime soon.
We assume that red states like Texas, places like Arlington, are completely beyond hope and deeply conservative. Make no mistake, we’re still in the heart of the Texas 6th Congressional District: a statewide bellwether, crown jewel of Texas congressional gerrymandering, and my own personal political White Wale. There’s a reason the video I took of the occasion shows that hundreds, not thousands, of attendees were there over the course of the afternoon.
But what was really noteworthy was the lopsided reaction of the crowd, both those in attendance and those passing through in their cars or on foot: we got the odd middle finger (almost exclusively from truck-driving White men, natch), but the honks of support were coming so frequently that it was rare for a group of cars to pass by without at least a few honking in support, waving, taking pictures or video, smiling, or giving thumbs-up signs. Very few drove past looking neutral or displeased; the average people in the city were happy to see us and agreed with the message.
Shout-Out to Chris Turner (TX-D, 101st District) for showing up and speaking out, and in support of locals Dems on the ballot!
The reality sank in for our counter-protestor over time as well: he began to slouch, to lean on the bollards, and after over an hour of enduring his self-inflicted humiliation of holding a sign speaking for “WE” when literally not a single living soul had come out to join him, he finally gave in and pulled out a sharpie. He hurriedly scrawled a new slogan on the back of his cardboard and flipped it around.
It simply said “SUPPORT ICE”. I really don’t know which is sadder, honestly. I mean, I found half a dozen better slogans on my phone later that day by accident (the winner was “I liked my country like I like my tea: filled with ICE”, which I admit is a pretty clever way to tell people you’re a cowardly bootlicker).
Well, maybe there is hope for this country after all. After all, there are millions of people in DFW, and literally nobody else bothered to come to this counter-protest. Where are the Charlie Kirk free speech warriors of tomorrow? The proud ICE-supporting thin-blue-line flag waving police brutality apologists? Where are the TERFs and the hatemongers to demand that pedo groomer trans people like me be locked up in insane asylums?
There are none with the free time and energy and drive to show up here? Deep in the heart of Texas?
Good. I wonder how unpopular they are everywhere else. Maybe if you go to a protest near you, you’ll see for yourself.