Even When the People in Power Don’t Give a Fuck
I drove the half-hour through the golden aspens and granite of the Black Hills to attend my second ever protest in the Queen City of Spearfish. Fifty-seven years I’ve walked these streets, watched the railroad tracks hum, seen the seasons shift, and I’d only known two local protests before: both “No Kings” protests. Yesterday we stood again. It was cold—47 degrees, wind in your face, the kind of fall chill that reminds you: you’re alive and you’re standing anyway.
Maybe one hundred people, maybe more—I did my Fermi-ballpark estimate. Drivers honked. Neighbors waved. One lady yelled “You’re not even from Spearfish!”
Hell I’m not. My name’s in bronze on the plaque at the middle school for when I sat on the school board. But never mind that. The point is: we showed up.
One of my favorite signs read: “Our last king had dementia too!” Veterans were there. College students. Mom & Pop with homemade placards. A handful of thumbs-downs from passing cars. A “Trump 2028” fist out of the window. That’s the shit we’re up against.
The Enemy Speaks: Hate, from the Right
Let’s not pretend the foil is neutral. The enemy—not just the system, but those who defend authoritarian, monarch-in-everything-but-name politics—they’re making the noise. High-ranking figures in the Republican Party leadership have publicly called the “No Kings” protests “hate-America” rallies. They frame dissent as disloyalty. They cast protest as terrorism. They brand the very act of standing in solidarity with one’s neighbors as unpatriotic.
What’s happening is the same old playbook: power wants you silent. They wrap their claws in flags and talk about fiscal responsibility while dismantling civil liberties. When you show up and say “No more,” they respond with scorn and gas-lit accusations. So yes—your presence is political. It matters. It threatens them.
Why We Show Up Even When Change Feels Slow
Let’s unpack something: I know what you might feel. “We stood there in the wind. Nobody cared. The laws won’t change tomorrow.” But here’s what the social science says:
- Showing up does matter for you. When you leave your house, stand in the cold, and hold a sign—it reinforces you as part of something bigger.
- When people believe their community has the capacity to act (what scholars call collective efficacy), they’re more likely to intend to act. Translation: it’s not just about laws changing. It’s about you changing your relationship to your neighbors, to your community—and that change ripples.
- Meanwhile, the mocking shrieks from GOP leadership about “hate-rallies” aren’t just noise. They’re a tactic. To delegitimize our gathering. To force us into silence. Recognizing this is half the battle.
So yes: you might look at the thousand or hundred or twenty people in the street and think, “We’re too small to matter.” But the size isn’t the only metric. Two hundred people in Spearfish showing up in 47-degree wind? That’s a message. To oneself. To the community. To the powers that prefer we sit down and shut up.
What We Did —and Why It Counts
When we gathered:
- We created visibility: people driving by waved, honked, acknowledged us. That’s the fog-signal to public awareness.
- We forged solidarity: strangers side-by-side in cold, all feeling the same indignation. That’s community built.
- We declared identity: “I am someone who says no to kings in America.” That matters. Because identity precedes action.
These three things: visibility, solidarity, identity—they fuel the larger machine of change. Even if no legislation flips this week, something in the air shifted. In Spearfish. In you. In me.
What to Do Now
- Share the story: Take your photo, post your sign, talk about the weird thing that one guy yelled out his window. Make the small town roar.
- Stay connected: Our power comes when we recognize each other. Use the next weeks to reach out—invite a neighbor, talk to someone in the crowd you didn’t know.
- Don’t wait for permission: The institutions will not thank you, may mock you, may gaslight you. But you don’t need their validation. You built something yesterday.
- Be the community: In a world where systems don’t give a fuck, we give a fuck. Be the neighbor who showed up. Be the voice that won’t shut up.
- Repeat: It’s not a one-time event. It’s a habit. A cumulative stack of “I stood up, I showed my face, they saw me, I saw them.”
A Folk Curse, in Legalese
May it be ordained: Let no monarchy of silence descend upon our streets. Let collective will rise when tyranny whispers. And let the rafters echo with the names of those who refused quietude. So it is recorded. So it is witnessed.
