No Kings - Now What? Here’s Exactly What to Do Next
Shannon Watts on finding the fire to fight
I’ve loved seeing everyone’s photos from the No Kings protests this weekend. So many families came out together in multi-generational scrums. I heard from tons of you who were protesting for the very first time. The signs were incredibly fun, clever and also got right to the point of the day. Americans are fed up.
I’ve gotten a lot of questions about what specifically people should do now that the protest is over. So this is my *specific* list of actions to build on the momentum of No Kings:
1. Join an organized political group:
Find out when your local democrat group is meeting, sign up for their newsletter/facebook/whatever and plan to go to their events. Remember, the democratic party is made up of the people who show up and help make decisions.
Or join Indivisible/Moms Demand/a mutual aid group/ your local group of choice. You are more apt to find people similarly situated to you at these things than the larger dem group. You can also do both.
2. Identify TWO friends who want to talk political stuff with you:
In my book (Democracy in Retrograde) we call this a civic pod. But really … humans are social creatures, we are much more likely to do shit when it involves people we know. Find some people who can be your people.
3. Reclaim patriotism:
We have a couple weeks till July 4th. Some of America’s best qualities include our desire to renounce kings and our widely varied melting pot of immigrants. Our flag represents these qualities. The iconography has meaning and we need to reclaim it.
Buy something, make something, find something patriotic and plan to go full ham on the 4th.
4. Build coalitions:
Less specific, but one of the things that was so powerful about the actions this weekend is that people all across the country were able to see that there are other people who share their political views. There wasn’t a purity test to show up, but showing up was what mattered.
Algorithms that prioritize conflict have made it so taking political action feels like entering into an MMA arena. But how movements win is through sustained efforts from coalitions of people who share values. This is a mindset shift, but we all have to take part in building a coalition powerful enough to win.
5. Keep the energy high
Keep posting your values and your actions on social media. I loved seeing all of the signs and the marching this weekend, but I also want to see what everyone is doing on the other days. It doesn’t need to be a hard lift, repost things that resonate and share when you do something (that you called your reps, attended a meeting or even put a sign in your front window.)
—> You’ll note that these actions are different than things like boycotting & calling your reps. I think about political actions in two buckets: Some actions are meant to persuade: to grow movements, shift opinions, develop narrative, and make people feel seen. Others are designed to pressure: to exert power, to disrupt and to change institutions.
We need both. We need to grow and sustain the 3.5%, we need to have a narrative foundation, and we need to use those tools to pressure and build infrastructural power.
You probably know
from her time leading Moms Demand Action, where she helped build a movement of persusasion and pressure. This week she is publishing her new book Fired Up, in which she teaches us how to find the fire within to build a life of meaning and joy.—> Pick it up now where you buy your books (Bookshop, Amazon.)
I’ve known Shannon since her early days at Moms Demand and I was excited to bring her on to talk about how she has found the fortitude to keep fighting and why she thinks there is reason to have hope for political change.
You may not feel like your individual actions can make a difference, but transformative change often starts with a surprisingly small group of committed individuals. Political scientist Erica Chenoweth's research reveals what she calls the 3.5 percent rule: no government has successfully withstood a challenge from 3.5 percent of its population mobilized in sustained, nonviolent resistance.
Consider the mathematics of hope: in a nation of over 330 million people, that's only about 11.5 million people. In a mid-sized city of 500,000, it's just 17,500 people. These are significant numbers, but far from a majority.
We don't need to convince everyone to join us. Everyone doesn’t need to be a martyr. What we need is a critical mass of courageous people.
My political journey started the morning after twenty children and six educators were slaughtered inside Sandy Hook Elementary School. I sat at my kitchen table, scrolling through news coverage, waiting for someone—anyone—to announce they were going to fix this.
No one did.
I had watched shooting tragedy after shooting tragedy unfold across America, each time thinking that this time, surely someone would act. But that December morning in 2012, staring at photos of first-graders who would never come home, I had a devastating epiphany: if I wanted change, I would have to step off the sidelines myself.
As an introvert wrestling with severe ADHD and a debilitating fear of public speaking, I knew virtually nothing about politics, organizing, or gun violence policy. I didn’t have the résumé of someone destined to challenge the most powerful, wealthy special interest group in American history.
And yet.
Despite my imperfections and lack of preparedness, I stepped forward. In the face of obstacles that seemed insurmountable I knew that if you want a job done, you ask a mom.
And it turns out this mom from the Midwest was exactly the right person for the job.
The result? I led an army of fed-up Americans into battle against the gun industry for over a decade. Together, we passed hundreds of gun safety laws, stopped the gun lobby's agenda in statehouses 90 percent of the time, elected thousands of candidates who supported common-sense reform, and secured passage of the first federal gun legislation in a generation.
Right now in America, we're not navigating mere policy disagreements or partisan differences. We're confronting a fundamental test of who we are as a democracy and as human beings. The rising tide of authoritarianism, the systematic erosion of democratic norms, the willingness of leaders to abandon truth for power are threats that demand something different from us.
For everyday Americans, moral courage doesn't require running for office or leading a national movement. It looks like:
Speaking out in your own circles.
Challenge the conspiracy theories poisoning your family dinner table. Refuse to laugh at the "joke" that dehumanizes others. Correct misinformation when you encounter it, even when it's uncomfortable.
Protecting the vulnerable in your community.
Stand up for the immigrant family facing harassment. Support the teachers under attack for doing their jobs. Defend the election workers receiving death threats for counting votes. Ask yourself what issues make your blood boil. What injustice insults your soul? That fire in your belly isn't an accident, it's your moral compass pointing you toward your power.
Living your values publicly.
Don't just vote in silence.Talk about why you vote the way you do. Don't just donate privately.Explain why certain causes matter to you. Make your moral positions visible so others know they're not alone in this fight.
Let me be clear: acting courageously will result in blowback. You'll face anger, rejection, disrespect and ridicule. That's why it's crucial to remember that all criticism you receive when you act audaciously is predictable, and none of it is personal. In fact, it's proof that you're doing something right.
Ultimately, the degree to which you can grow your courage is directly proportional to the amount of blowback you're willing and able to withstand.
There is no perfect way to resist. Some people's courage looks like speaking up to family members who've embraced harmful ideologies. Others are willing to be arrested for peacefully protesting. Some organize their communities. Others run for office. There is no one right way to take action.
Yes, you'll face intimidation. Powerful interests will try to silence you. People you respect may question your judgment. But somewhere out there, 11.4 million other Americans are waiting. They're waiting for someone like you to take that first step, to speak that first uncomfortable truth, to show up to that first meeting. They're waiting for permission to stop being bystanders and start being agents of change.
Here's what I've learned through a decade of being underestimated, dismissed, and attacked: courage isn't the absence of fear.
It’s the decision to act despite it. The world doesn't need you to be perfect, prepared, or even particularly qualified. It needs you to be brave enough to start where you are, with what you have, right now.
The question isn't whether you have what it takes to change the world. History shows us that ordinary people with extraordinary courage have always been the ones to bend the arc of justice.
The question is: Do you have the courage to try?
Get your copy of Shannon’s new book Fired Up wherever you buy your books (Bookshop, Amazon.)
Extremely helpful and encouraging "to do" list. I especially liked how you encouraged us to talk with those prepared, and some of those not so prepared to talk about the issues facing us all. And the idea of a 'pod,' because after this weekend's rallies I can clearly see the mathematical goal of having 3.5% of us out there over and over and over again until this despotic regime is defeated. We're over halfway there in terms of numbers. And our boycotts are having real word effects, too. I am still thinking about the 4th, flags and etcetera. I haven't flown the flag since the first day of Donald Trump's first term. My neighbors are well aware of my political sentiments due to my flying of the Candadian, Ukrainian, Juneteenth, Native American day, etc, flags on related occasions, plus the couple of lawn signs nestled among my front garden offerings for their enjoyment. But so many at the NO KINGS rally I attended were carrying flags--I guess that's the point. I have a special American Flag, folded by two honor guard Marines on the occasion of my dad's burial at Quantico. It's in one of those triangular box frames and I couldn't bear to unfurl it. But maybe I'll make a plinth and set it out on the front stoop (we have stoops rather than porches, here) to honor Dad, my family's long service to this country, and myself as a not-so-proud, but still hopeful American. Thanks for the suggestion.
Loved all of this, and laughed out loud at "Go full ham on the 4th"