When I attended the “No Kings” protest in downtown Elkhart in October, I didn’t expect it to change the way I see our country. I was there primarily as a journalist, producing a package for The Globe, but I was also there as a college student who has grown increasingly worried about where the United States is heading.
As a 20-year-old from Lowell, Indiana, raised in a Democratic household, I’ve always believed in equality, accountability and the power of people coming together. While gathering background for my package on the demonstration, I realized pretty quickly that “No Kings” wasn’t just a catchy slogan.It wasn’t really about one person, it’s about how dangerous the world can be when anyone, especially the president, starts thinking they’re above the rules or can’t be questioned. Interviewing people for my segment made me confront that idea head-on and see just how fragile democracy can feel when power goes unchecked.
I spoke with local organizers of the movement, a retired pastor, civilians there to speak their mind, even District Councilman Aaron Mischler. Alan Griffin, a former Presbyterian pastor, told me, “There may be legal issues that have to be dealt with, but the way we treat people matters,” and that really stuck with me.
What Griffin had told me was just the beginning of my adventure that day. Roxanne Monhaut, a mother and wife of a husband and child with disabilities, told me, “We just need kindness, kindness in the world, and empathy. And I don’t feel this administration has empathy for any minority groups.” As she spoke to me, she opened my eyes to a different perspective of the same picture I’ve been staring at.
Standing behind the microphone that day made me feel more responsible than I expected. I wasn’t just watching what was happening, I had to actually understand it.
Before I left, I confirmed with one of the organizers, who told me there were just over 1,500 people there. Almost everyone had a sign. Big or small, they all contributed. Some signs read: “No Kings,” “The U.S. needs immigrants like humans need air” and “We the people demand better.”
The chants bounced off the brick buildings, and even through the crisp Indiana air, there was warmth in everyone’s unity. I remember thinking, this is what democracy feels like, messy, loud and alive.
Covering the protest showed me how journalism and activism feed into each other. As I edited my interviews and wrote my script later, I realized how important it is to capture moments like this and share them.
As I continue to write, what is written in quotes was my script from my package. What comes after, is my thoughts.
“This past Saturday, millions of people nationwide gathered for the No Kings Protest to show their disapproval of The Trump Administration. There were thousands of cities, big and small, that hosted protests.”
I can’t believe that it takes millions of people around the nation gathering in both the large, well known cities, and even the cities and towns that aren’t known past the state borders, to get the attention of those in charge. I was in a state of shock during the demonstration because of all the information I had to take in and because I had a job to do.
When I sat down to edit later that night, everything hit me like a truck. All of the signs in my videos, all of the comments, all of the positive chants. Everything came together in my head, it just clicked, just like the people did.
“What started out as a small demonstration, turned from hundreds to just shy of 1,500 people before the protest was over.”
I arrived, 45 minutes early to the protest and as I parked, I feared I was in the wrong location. There were just three people there. But by the time 15 minutes passed and there were 30 left until the scheduled start time, I was reassured that this was the place.
I saw everything, from what I expected to things that caught me off guard. Colorful signs, crazy hair, and crazier shirts, different sizes of groups of people that included more than five people, and even the lone person there to support what they believe. I even saw not one, but three inflatable dinosaur costumes.
People in Elkhart weren’t just angry, they were hopeful. They believed that if enough citizens demanded accountability, democracy could still work. That optimism reminded me why storytelling matters and why giving people a voice can itself be a quiet form of resistance.
After the protest, I started seeing the U.S. political landscape differently. As a future journalist going into the real world in less than two years, I’ve been frustrated watching norms erode, attacks on free media, disregard for judicial independence and efforts to centralize power in the executive branch.
But in Elkhart, I realized these issues aren’t just headlines, they’re local — they’re personal. The same democratic backsliding affects people in my own neighborhoods, the people I go to school with and the people I see every day.
The protest made me see that every citizen, no matter their age, has a role to play in protecting what we value. The protest also made me appreciate activism more. Before going to Elkhart, I kind of felt like one person’s voice didn’t really matter when the system feels so big.
But the protest reminded me that change doesn’t always start in Washington. It starts with ordinary people showing up in their communities, marching, reporting or even just listening. Every action, no matter how small, adds to a ripple that can eventually shape history.
Making my package wasn’t just a school assignment, it actually got me involved. I had to figure out how power works in the government, what’s been happening with executive overreach and why checks and balances matter. Explaining it to an audience made me confront how much complacency feeds the problem.
Democracy depends on participation, and silence is its slowest undoing. The “No Kings” protest was about holding people accountable. It reminded me that democracy doesn’t run itself. It needs people to pay attention, tell stories and show up.
Whether through my voice on my college station or my vote at the ballot box, I now see my role in that process more clearly than ever. In the end, the message of Elkhart still echoes in my mind, we don’t need kings, we need citizens. That’s the America I believe in.
