I’m on the lookout for new stories. When Hemingway ran out of ideas, he joined the Army. I’m curious, but not that curious. There was another No Kings rally on October 18th. I used to go to those. I went to one in April and stayed home in June. The most recent time, I watched Wyoming football, and rationalized that I was at Boulder’s Central Park in spirit.
The rally I attended in April felt to me like a mix between a block party and a civics class. A few thousand of us milled around on South Broadway outside the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) building, along with a couple of my neighbors and some acquaintances.
The Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) purged a bunch of scientists soon after the Inauguration in January. Weather research and forecasting had become too political. Climate change will do that. I made a sign that read “Melt ICE,” and caught the bus with a crowd of like-minded people. The slogan is a double entendre, referencing global warming thawing the icecaps, and ICE rounding up immigrants and sending them to points unknown.
We chanted and waved our signs. There were a few horn honks from well-wishers driving by.
The only real drama came when a red pickup roared by and blasted us with black diesel smoke. That was a rolling metaphor for the times.
The plume reminded me of the time I was walking in a crowd when soldiers tear-gassed us after Nixon’s inauguration in 1973. It’s ironic that I was waving my sign, since my first presidential vote was for Nixon and I was president of the now-infamous College Republicans at the University of Wyoming. I’m still regretting that vote.
It was chilly in April. We’d seen enough. The crowd dispersed, and we walked back toward town.
The pundits said these rallies mattered because democracy depends on people in the streets. The next morning, the same president was still in office, with the only visible change being that the dumpsters were now full of clever slogans scrawled on signs.
The rally in April stoked me up. I made a hat with my “Melt ICE” slogan. It gets reactions. Some are supportive, while others, not so much, but at least it starts conversations.
The novelty had worn off, and I had sat out the June event, but I was ready to go in October until I lost interest.
“The movement has lost steam,” I said to myself. There were too many mixed messages. Too many baby boomer faces who’d been protesting since Nixon, now armed with newer cardboard. The energy was real, but it felt scattered.
Then I heard the numbers.
The time I turned out in April, about 3 million marched.
In June, the number bloomed to around 5 million.
News reports estimated 7 million had hit the streets nationwide on October 18th.
That’s not a slump. That’s a surge.
What’s more interesting to me is who showed up. According to a survey from American University, women comprised 57 percent, and most were highly educated.
At first glance, that’s the same old coalition, but the data tell another story. Local media indicated campus groups joined in from places like Penn State, Towson University, and the University of Florida.
The same poll found that the median age of protesters in Washington, D.C. was 44. Younger voices mixed into the chorus.
I’m a Malcolm Gladwell fan. He wrote The Tipping Point. No Kings feels like what Gladwell defined as the mysterious moment when an idea stops needing to be pushed and starts growing under its own power.
Something has shifted over the past six months. Young people are showing up. Folks who don’t fit the old protester profile are finding their way into the crowd.
Maybe they don’t know exactly why they’re milling around, but they know they are mad as hell and not going to take it any more.
When democracy wakes up groggy, it’s slobbery, noisy, sluggish, but undeniably alive. Movements begin with emotion, not policy. It’s evolution, not chaos.
Maybe I was wrong to stand on the sidelines admiring the T-shirts with clever slogans and frog costumes. Spontaneous growth is immune to counter-messages.
Detractors paint the millions and millions of us as anti-American and paid to riot. I must have missed the gravy train.
The naysayers claim photos and videos documenting the 2,500 events around all 50 states were created by AI.
Pay no mind to the conspiracy theorists behind the curtain.
We each only have control over what we can control. The tipping point creates change on its own. For some, that’s marching. For me, it’s about mentoring, voting, or engaging with people who disagree with me.
The four-hour No Kings events are about participation. Being around people of like minds leads to the long, quiet actions that last beyond the rants and raves.
March if you must for the day, but keep moving, because change doesn’t live on a poster board.
Change begins in the streets, and tipping points gain momentum when the news cycle shifts to the next mass shooting or devastating flood.
No Kings rallies echo past protests. Now the crowds have expanded since April. The message is spreading, and people who once stayed home are finding their way into the crowds. Parents push baby strollers down the sidewalk. Kids show up and pass footballs around the medians.
It doesn’t matter where you are on the sociopolitical spectrum. Make something better. Make someone think. Make noise when the streets are quiet.
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The No Kings rallies started as echoes of the past with the same signs and outrage. Something’s shifting. The crowds are growing. The energy is younger. The message is spreading.
What began as protests is turning into practice. We can’t control the whole storm, only how we show up in it. March if you must, but keep moving. Change doesn’t live on a poster board. It lives in what we build when the streets are quiet. #NoKings #MarchLessMoveMore #EverydayActivism #QuietChange #TippingPoint #MakeMeaning #DemocracyAlive #YouthMovement #DoTheWork #ZenOfAction https://alanohashi.com/2025/10/21/understanding-the-tipping-point-of-social-movements/TippingPoint #MakeMeaning #DemocracyAlive #YouthMovement #DoTheWork #ZenOfAction
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