To be perfectly honest, I didn’t know what I was expecting at the first meeting. I was coming fresh off of my local Democrats meeting the night before, and “rough” would be putting it nicely. Imagine 10 people in a room, all lamenting the situation. The highlight of the night was a lady announcing she was leaving the party due to a poor experience running for office. And then it just ended. No reassurances, no direction, no hope. If the opposition party couldn’t get people interested, what was I to expect of a random meeting announced on Nextdoor?
I showed up and the difference was immediate. With nearly 50 people in attendance, we had to be moved to a bigger room. And like I said, this was off Nextdoor. This isn’t your typical political crowd. It’s everyday, normal Americans spurred to action. We might not have the experience, but we have the energy, and right now that’s more than enough.
We went around the room and introduced everyone. Who were you, and why were you here? Every conceivable base was covered: the economy, DOGE, foreign affairs, immigration. You name it, we spoke about it. From the varied answers, a clear throughline emerged. Whether it’s for their family, their country, or themselves; people are scared.
I approached the main organizer, Jill Kelly, at the end of the meeting and offered to help right away. It was apparent she was overwhelmed, as I was, at the amount of people who showed up. We arranged to get coffee that weekend to discuss what to do moving forward.
When we met, we got to talking about the things that were worrying us personally. Jill is one of those people that you can tell just really care about people—the type of person who tears up when they see someone being hurt, someone needing help. For me, seeing the rhetoric and actions around immigration are personal. My girlfriend and her family immigrated during Trump’s first term. She’s Filipino, and we live in an area that’s predominantly white. What’s to stop ICE from arresting her and shipping her off without a court date? We have a few meat processing plants nearby that employ a ton of illegal immigrants, we’re a key spot for ICE to hit.
After we got done sharing our personal stories, we started to hammer out what we wanted our coalition to look like. Being that we live in a red district, our group couldn’t be composed of one particular ideology. There are going to be people who voted for Trump and are now seeing the error of their ways, and both Jill and I agreed we want to be welcoming to those with a change of heart. We also want to provide a community for people to help each other out during these trying times. These are our neighbors, and that sense of community is needed now more than ever. And we want to inform people of what’s going on. It’s tempting to keep your head in the sand, but this administration is going to affect everyone. Lastly, and most importantly, we want to resist what’s happening, whether it be through protests, town halls, or other means. We have to do everything we can to stop what’s happening.
Like I said previously, we live in a red district, and that makes things difficult. Our representative, Tom Emmer, is the GOP whip, making him the number three Republican in the House. A lot of people assume our area is a lost cause, so we don’t get a lot of attention or support from the state party. I can’t really blame them, most people have to hide that they’re Democrats here. I decided not to hide that fact, and I’m in the trenches every lunch break at the factory. We’re in the minority, and Republicans make sure that you know it at every opportunity.
That reality is what led us to decide to have a protest. There ARE Democrats in the area. We need to let them know they’re not alone. Thanks to some press coverage, both local and national, we had nearly 300 people show up for our first protest. I can’t begin to tell you how many people stopped and told us how amazed they were that there were people here who cared. Jill and I knew then that the protests weren’t going to stop. If we accomplished nothing more than making people feel less isolated, we’d have accomplished something worthwhile.
Now, Jill and I find ourselves leading a rapidly growing grassroots movement. Neither of us has experience running an organization of this scale, and the learning curve is steep. But every meeting—filled with dozens of engaged community members—and every protest—echoing with the honks of supportive drivers—fuels our determination to continue.
The last Democratic party meeting had three times the attendance of the last meeting, and I was approached about taking over the chair seat of our local party unit. It’s becoming clear that this movement is serious. I’ve had a dozen meetings with people eager to get involved, and we all agree: this time is different. This time, we can’t afford to sit back and wait for the next election cycle to play out. The threats we face are too immediate, too urgent.
We are now coordinating efforts among ten different resistance groups, each bringing unique strengths to the table. The sense of hope is undeniable. We are organizing, mobilizing, and most importantly, refusing to back down. The fight ahead is daunting, but together, we are proving that even in the most challenging districts, resistance is not futile—it is necessary. The energy is there, just waiting for someone to harness it. Are you going to step up? Or be stepped on? The choice is entirely yours.