Like yesterday’s Stand Up for Science rally, today’s International Women’s Day rally in Daley Plaza was both lame and pathetic. It was far better attended, with just under 1,500 participants, according to one well-placed source. The weather had changed dramatically, with the sun returning and the temperatures soaring into the low 40s. The speakers, however, covered no new ground. There were no celebrities. No musicians performed.

While signs addressing women’s issues were prevalent, Ukrainian signage and flags were also visible, reminding the crowd that Trump has not only sold women out, but also the Ukrainians. I was pleased to see Zoryana Smozhanyk, one of the dominant forces driving the Chicago Ukrainian Community, take the podium, both to speak about Trump’s alignment with Putin and to sing the Ukrainian National Anthem. Acknowledging that she is no singer, Smozhanyk appropriately noted that the words and spirit are what matter. She turned in a more than respectable and heartfelt performance.

I also ran into Elena, a Russian émigré who leads protests aimed at ridding the world of Vladimir Putin. I prodded jokingly, “What, no sign in Russian today?” She responded with a laugh, signaling ‘Nope,” just here as an American citizen speaking out on behalf of women. Unlike so many who complain about President Donald J. Trump and Elon Musk, Elena doesn’t take her First Amendment rights for granted. Why would she? When she was leading demonstrations in Russia, Putin’s security forces visited her home several times, telling her that if she continued, imprisonment would follow. The country should welcome more immigrants like her.

Which brings me to my friend Tom, along with countless others who have asked me what they can do. Earlier this week, Tom reached out, including me in a group email asking specifics about addressing the existential threat posed by Trump and Musk. Responding, I noted two demonstrations that had been scheduled for today—the Women’s Day rally and a demonstration against DOGE outside Tesla’s Rush Street store.

He expressed interest in attending. Two days later, Tom sent a follow-up email, reporting that he had made scripted calls to Republicans legislators, for him a satisfying experience.

A day later, I sent him an email updating him on Saturday’s rallies. Tom responded that he was no longer able to attend either rally. He had a date with his grandson, which is certainly an understandable and legitimate excuse.

Based on what I now view as seminal experiences in my early life, I offer Tom and everyone else copied on Tom’s email a suggestion. Next time, give your grandson a lifelong lesson in civic engagement. The night before a scheduled rally, get some corrugated cardboard and paint—make some topically relevant signs. Help your grandson come up with a clever slogan for his sign—the cover image for this recent post offers an excellent example, including the endearing misspelling and scrawl. The next day, attend the rally with your grandson, followed by a debriefing during dinner at a favorite restaurant. And If I know, I will capture some images of you and your grandson marching in the streets so that he has a memento to remember you by after you have departed your earthly bounds.

I remember my first demonstration. It was at architect Eero Saarinen’s Milwaukee War Memorial following Walter Cronkite’s report that the U.S. had instituted an aerial bombing campaign over Cambodia. My mother took me, which was a out of character. She was anything but civically engaged. Most likely, she voted for Richard Nixon in 1968, if she voted.

Our experience that night long ago was a peaceful one. Although I may be conflating events, I also remember a not so peaceful protest that same night at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee. One of my fellow high school classmates may have been involved.

In addition to my first protest, I also have vivid memories of spending an afternoon at Eugene McCarthy’s Milwaukee campaign headquarters while in 7th grade; attending a George Wallace ‘revival’ rally—as an interested observer—in 1972 with my friend Bruce; and watching one of the Washington, D.C. anti-war demonstrations on TV with family members following my cousin’s Saturday morning bat mitzvah. And I shouldn’t forget to mention the 1968 Democratic Convention. All are responsible for my lifelong interest in politics and civics.

My youthful experiences probably explain my continuing fascination with rallies and marches, which are the tectonic plates underlying our civic discourse. Most of the time, they don’t register on the ‘Richter scale.’ Nevertheless, those who pay attention develop a sense of what the body politic is thinking about, many at a subconscious level.

Every once and while, the plates press hard up against each other. The resulting upward thrust releases vasts amounts of uncontrolled energy. Buildings pancake, crushing people; fires erupt as sparks from downed power lines ignite dry kindling; the earth swallows cars, and looters roam the streets.

Metaphorically, demonstrations bear a striking resemblance to tectonic plates. Only when the people who do not regularly take part in demonstrations have a Howard Beale moment—”I’m mad as hell, and I’m not going to take it anymore"—will politicians respond to the resulting crevices suddenly tearing the social fabric. While portions of Beale’s speech are at odds with my thesis, in my mind, before the “I am mad as Hell” moment produces visible change, hundreds of thousands (if not millions) of people must take to the streets on a Saturday or Sunday.

For example, when 100,000 people demonstrated in Washington, D.C. on May 9, 1970 following the Kent State massacre and Richard Nixon’s incursion into Cambodia, the president made a 4:00 AM visit to the Lincoln Memorial, where he met with the demonstrators, telling them,

I hope that [your] hatred of the war, which I could well understand, would not turn into a bitter hatred of our whole system, our country and everything that it stood for. I said that I know probably most of you think I'm an SOB. But I want you to know that I understand just how you feel.

Reports at the time painted Nixon as delusional—some going so far as to suggest he was under the influence of LSD, or had been dosed. While his sojourn did not result in the immediate cessation of hostilities in the Southeast Asia, it marked the beginning of the end.

In a city with a population nearing three million, the 1,500 people who showed up today did not move the needle. The Women’s rally received no coverage in the local papers. [Postscript: Late Sunday afternoon, the Chicago Tribune finally published a photo essay well below the digital fold. There was no accompanying article.]

Trump and Musk (and more importantly, Republican legislators) didn’t hear the chants in Daley Plaza or outside Tesla’s store. No crevices in the zeitgeist opened.

Don’t just complain. Take to the Streets

[Click on an Image to Enlarge It. The Images Are Not Necessarily in Exact Chronological Order]

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