Confessions of a Novice Protester

Democracy in action comes with signs, chants, and comfortable shoes

Jun 12, 2025

By Kitty Eisele

It hit me at a Metro station, when a fellow demonstrator, a new acquaintance hauling hand-lettered signs, bought a Metro card with cash. “I think at this point,” this one-time Fed said, “it’s probably wise to keep my activities private, not something they can track on my credit card.”

“Already?” I thought. “We have to start thinking like this?” Three weeks into the new administration, this was only my second protest. It hadn’t occurred to me I might not want a record of my movements in this strange new era. If anything, I had dressed up, figuring if we were going to the Capitol we stood a better chance of being taken seriously if we were dressed like—well—Congress. Or staff. Except most of us are decades older. We aren’t thinking as tactically as the Occupy Generation but feel called nonetheless to show up at this moment, with our signs and banners and yes, reading glasses and comfortable shoes. Call us the Post-Menopausal Resistance.

Until recently, we women in our 50s, 60s and up have been the majority of the people I’ve seen at demonstrations, Tesla takedowns, by courthouses protesting disappeared colleagues, or holding signs on highway overpasses: “GROW A SPINE, CONGRESS!” “NOBODY ELECTED ELON!” “OMG GOP, WTF!!!” Between us we have law degrees, security clearances, foreign aid and military experience, and backgrounds as teachers and therapists. None of us expected we would be spending this decade of life defending democracy with poster paint and Sharpies. But here we are.

Thanks to Indivisible and a few other umbrella groups, six women in the same zip code met for the first time in early December. Within a week I was in a stranger’s kitchen addressing postcards for Democrats in a special election to keep the state legislature blue. (We did.) Two weeks on, that same person hosted a meet-and-greet for a state candidate, and a ballot-signing event for another. By late January we were outside the Treasury Department, feeling a little sheepish with the “Hey Hey, Ho Ho” chants, but grateful that several members of Congress showed up, even if we couldn’t see them for the crowd. By early February we had flyers and wallet cards in Spanish and English for the many immigrants in our lives, explaining everyone’s rights in case of ICE and discussing whether any among us would be needed as guardians should certain kids’ parents be picked up and disappeared. And daily we hear from dozens of Washington-area friends and relatives who have lost jobs or are on the precipice, wondering if they’ll be denied pensions and retirement plans along with the destruction of their careers and industries. They can’t protest or demonstrate—it’s too risky. So we do.

Our little group of six has ballooned to 70—not bad for a town of 15,000—so now we meet monthly in a friendly church basement, with planning done ahead of time on Zoom, Signal and G-Drive. To date this crowd has:

Delivered petitions to Congress and met with legislators about voting down Trump’s budget and holding the line on Cabinet nominations
Rallied at the NIH in March and on the Mall for Hands Off! in April, holding hands around the “Black-sonian” (the NMAAHC) in a circle of protection
Turned out at May Day demonstrations across DC
Held “Honk for Democracy” signs on Fridays outside Whole Foods
Staffed Saturday Tesla Takedowns in three different locations for 12 weeks running
Lined the Trump Golf Club driveway with protest signs during his “Crypto Dinner”
Made the AP photo feed demonstrating at the courthouse for detained Georgetown professor Badar Khan Suri
Delivered “Rush Hour Resistance” with pro-democracy banners across DC bridges
Distributed election lit for Virginia Democrats at our local Memorial Day parade
And turned out for yet another Lieutenant Governor meet and greet.

And we’re just getting started.

For many years as a newsroom journalist I was prohibited from protesting, from having so much as a bumper sticker or a yard sign. To be honest, much of what I’m doing makes me feel awkward and ungainly. I’m not used to being the one with the rainbow-colored signs and the fanny pack stuffed with granola. But this is the point, I think: acts of resistance are awkward—we’re swimming against the stream, after all—when they aren’t outright dangerous. I’m not in a targeted group. Yet. So building a network of like-minded resisters, who think in terms of surveillance and tear gas and lawyers as much as where the bathrooms will be, is probably the most important thing I can do with my time.

The upswelling of protests against ICE this week has been heartening to see, hard as it is to watch peaceful demonstrators bear the brunt of needless force and violence. The rallies that kicked off in Los Angeles are being matched by civic passion in places as diverse as Dallas, Louisville, Philadelphia and Raleigh, by students and union leaders, parents and office workers. It finally seems like everyone else who cares about democracy is joining in.

It's easy to discount my peers and me. Visually, we’re motley. We’re older. And the range of things that need fighting is so vast, and has come on so quickly, it’s often been hard to know where to target our concern, to whom to address our appeals. But we’re here and we’ll keep showing up.

So consider this an invitation to join us. Find your local Indivisible group, or like us, create one. Or simply find a group of friends and decide how you want to show up for your country, right now. If you aren’t sure what to do you can always ask an older woman. She’s probably holding a handmade sign, packing the good snacks, and she'll make sure you get a spot to stand in, out of the sun.

Kitty Eisele is a veteran Washington journalist, most recently with NPR, and Emmy Award-winning producer of The Civil War and other films with Ken Burns.