I was psyched for spring break this year because my friend invited me to visit her condo in Nashville. Of course, being the adventure-thirsty person I am, I agreed in a heartbeat. A chance to travel is always a yes from me, and I’d heard about how great the food down South was. Barbeque? Sign me up. Best chicken fingers you can find? Don’t mind if I do. So, as one does, I spent countless hours Googling things to do in Nashville and listened to the few country songs in my music library to get me in the right mindset for the trip.
Finally, the week before rolls around and I am excited as ever. I checked my phone one afternoon, however, and realized to my dismay that Trump would be visiting the city at the same time we were. Great, I thought as I rolled my eyes. Being in the same place at the same time was almost too much for me. My friend had suggested, however, going to an Anti-Trump protest during the time he was there. Absolutely! As that Wednesday rolled around, my friend and I bundled up, Ubered over to the city, and marched into the heart of the action. This is my experience at my first protest.
Now as you could imagine, people had come from all over Tennessee to show their support for Trump. I wasn’t surprised seeing some side-street stands selling “Make America Great Again” apparel over by the Country Music Hall of Fame Museum where he would be speaking. While I respect that everyone is entitled to their own opinion, I couldn’t help but wince a little as I made my way past each stand.
Coming from New Jersey and going to school in Massachusetts, I have come across your every-so-often conservative person, however I had never seen so many supporters of his with my own eyes. My views lean liberal, as do many of the people I am usually surrounded by, therefore this experience was certainly a new one. People lined up for miles and had stood outside the Municipal Auditorium, decked out in their red apparel eagerly hoping to get a seat in the building. My friend and I surveyed the area for people whose ideals aligned with our own in hopes of joining them to show our support of the opposition.
As we walked in the middle of the fenced off road, squeezing past crowds of people and news reporters, we found a small group of people holding up pink planned parenthood signs. We flocked over to the group and smiled as they looked in our direction. Uncertain of what to do or say at first, we stood awkwardly and waited for some action to begin.
Eventually, a shorter woman holding a megaphone chanted something to get the protest going. It was finally starting, I thought as my heart fluttered. The yelling gained people’s attention around the area, including Trump supporters. As she continued to chant, an older man dressed head to toe in red started yelling at us, “Build a wall!” Shocked that some sort of controversy was beginning, I looked around me for a cue of some kind. I was excited to show my support for what I believed in, but I’d never done something of the sort before. In response, a few people chanted, “Tear it down!” I was eager that we were fighting back, and I joined in quietly at first but began projecting as I got more comfortable and as more voices joined in with mine.
The woman holding the megaphone began to move and chant. She would say something like, “What do we want?” and we would yell, “Democracy!” then she would say, “When do we want it?” as we yell, “Now!” The experience was both thrilling and energizing. Our small crowd made our way over another important building in the city as we gathered with more of our own supporters.
People of varying backgrounds, races, and genders all gathered together to stand up for their cause. I was able to grab a Planned Parenthood sign and scarf from organizers of the protest, and held it firmly as chants continued around me. Some of these chants included, “No Trump, no Pence, no wall, no fence,” and “My body, my choice!”
An electrifying kind of energy bounced through the crowd as immigrants and people of different religions and races got up to the microphone and shared their experiences with the crowd. Though hard to hear at times through people’s shouting and chanting, the words of those brave enough to share were cheered on and supported. Everyone shook their handmade signs in the air and many different people yelled their own chant into the air to be echoed by the people around them who agreed with it. People sat on each other’s shoulders to get better views of those speaking, and everyone’s attention was directed towards those who stood at the top of the stairs at the building we were at. We stood at that point for around half an hour, then began stomping towards the Municipal Builiding, our voices strong as we chanted different phrases for those around us to hear and digest.
Overall, the experience was positive. Though we did get plenty of dirty looks, opposing chants and sarcastic smiles, our voices stayed loud and proud as we marched around the city. We were even faced with a big family screaming obscene things at us. Of course, that is to be expected with any protest because everyone’s view is different, however it did get heated at some times. Either way, it was an amazing thing to be a part of something bigger than yourself, and I recommend for everyone to join a protest for something they believe in: it is an eye-opening, energizing expereince that you will be sure to remember.