I attended a Trump rally. As a protester. I didn’t intend to go, but I’m so glad I did. Not only did I see firsthand that Trump’s supporters are more varied, demographically, than one might initially think, but I also had the chance to practice activism, up and close. (Punchline? It’s hard to turn to the other cheek.)
The day started as any normal day of voter canvassing in suburban Philadelphia might: early morning drive from Manhattan with eager volunteers, training in the Elkins Park staging location, and knocking on doors to help get out the vote. But that day was different: We, the Executive Women for Hillary, had also been invited to lend our moral support to protesters at the opening of the newest Trump office. This office opening, located in Conshohocken, Pennsylvania, coincided with a Women for Trump event. My carmates decided we were going, and I was curious, so I went along for the ride. I had no idea what to expect, but I figured there was strength in numbers.
When we pulled into the large parking lot, we were stunned to see hundreds of cars – expensive SUVs, Mercedes-Benzes, etc. – from Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and New York. Men and women were dressed in their “Sunday best”: Women in dresses and heels, men in suits and ties, young girls in “Easter Sunday” garb. Wait! Where were the poor, uneducated white men? And who were these girls?
Suddenly, we felt scared: Pure, childlike fear. Amygdala hijack? Check. Sweaty armpits? Check. Pit in stomach? Check. The driver of the car proclaimed, “I gotta have a cigarette,” and the rest of us sat in the car and contemplated our next steps…and how we would disguise our Hillary paraphernalia. Were there other protesters? Was it safe? Why were we even there?
We talked aloud and realized our purpose: We were there to protest Trump’s messages of hate, misogyny, racism, and intolerance. But not everyone agreed. One woman declared showing up to a rally wasn’t a big deal. Case in point? She had attended a Trump rally during the Iowa primaries without incident, though the violence that has permeated his campaign since then had yet to appear. And, more importantly, not everyone was comfortable protesting: Why not “go high” and support our favored candidate instead of protesting the other?
We decided on a reconnaissance mission: We would cover up our HRC clothing and bravely head inside to assess safety and search for other protesters. (We thought we had seen a young, African-American woman holding a tiny, cardboard sign.) Cordelia took off her HRC hat and zipped up her patriotic American flag jacket over her favorite Hillary T-shirt. Carol loaned me a warm, red scarf that covered up my HRC buttons.
As we nervously crossed over a highway guard railing to get to the rally, suddenly our ears perked up: “Love trumps hate! Love trumps hate!” Wait, could it be…other protesters? We hugged all 10 women and men standing in front of the railing and immediately felt safe. A couple of us joined the line. Another wandered into the protest and sampled the free pretzels and snapped photos. Still another sat on the porch of a nearby bar to ask the owner for his view of it all. I refused to go into the rally and legitimize it with the presence of a brown woman, so I joined the protesters and unfurled our 12-foot Hillary banner.
I saw plenty of white men entering the rally, but I also saw Asians, Indians, blacks, women and girls. It is not easy or wise to guess socio-economic or educational status from one’s clothing, but if expensive cars are suggestive of income, supporters were not all poor either. One well-dressed woman even captured our protest on Periscope and contrasted it with what she called a “well-organized” rally. (That same video also shows me shouting ungraciously about Donald Trump not paying taxes.)
Thankfully, I believe the tide has turned since that day, October 1, before the Access Hollywood video came out, before Trump’s tax return leaked, in part due to women’s groups all over the country speaking out. I am glad I could see for myself who supports Trump. I am also glad I could experience a meaningful protest.
I was truly terrified of violence, but I hate even more that Donald Trump has created that fear within me. It is this for this reason that I must protest: No one should feel fear just for existing, for being a woman (nasty or not), for being a minority, for being the target of Trump’s message of hate. I am not proud of how Trump supporters goaded me into shouting aggressively back at them, but I am learning to stand up for my beliefs and my rights by being present in protests. And I am learning to change hearts and minds by turning the other cheek. Thanks, Executive Women for Hillary, for giving me this life-changing opportunity!
Coach Anita's Notebook 