Darkness fell over the city, the shadows grew long, and the long night began. All around in their homes, the townspeople read their personal news, and some looked out their windows with concern, wondering what was really going on out there in the night.
Suddenly, the doors of the nursing homes were kicked open, and the elderly poured out with lanterns, signs, songs, and protest. They gathered at street corners and waved their signs at the moon. The townspeople looked out, and some blinked their flashlights in support of the protest. With the elderly in the streets, the darkness pulled back for a time. After an hour and a half, they grew tired, went home, and placed their signs on the shelves. Once again, the streets fell silent, and the townspeople gazed once more into the great, quiet, dark night, where the darkness settled like a blanket over the city.
It is estimated that around 3 million Americans protested on April 5. I was one of them. It felt good and powerful to stand on a street corner for that hour and a half we could carve out of daily life to protest the fascism that is taking over the United States. Organized by grassroots movements, the protest took place without any form of leadership, other than the fact that we all met at the same place. There were no speeches, no one leading. And from what I could see—and later read—most of the people were over 50 or 60 years old, many even older. The doors of the nursing homes stood wide open. But where was everyone else?
My younger friends (aged 30–50) asked a bit about the protest but didn’t show up. They’re upset about some things, but they don’t have the full picture of the attack on democracy. They’re still reading news on social media, and keep getting more of what they’ve already ‘liked’… But they’re slowly starting to get concerned. The protests were in the news for a few days, but quickly got buried by tariffs (the trade war). Understandably so. The protests didn’t go viral, and after we’d all patted each other on the back, we were left with the realization that it was only one step in the right direction—and that we still have no power.
Another thing that struck me was that almost all of the demonstrators were white. That may not be surprising, since that’s what the neighborhood looks like, but I’ve heard from others that this may also be intentional (sources below). The resistance is bigger than it appears, but it won’t become visible until there are enough of us for everyone to join in.
The grassroots movement is amazing, but we’re in desperate need of leaders to pick up the thread. We need Obama to write one of his brilliant speeches. Bernie and AOC hold big rallies together, but aren’t really present during them. Their popularity is steadily rising, and Cory Booker could speak for 25 hours—but where was his speech during the protest?
Many Democrats I speak with have completely given up, with the mindset: “Fuck 'em”—the idea being, let the Republicans do what they want so MAGA can feel the consequences. I have to admit I feel that way too. One consequence of that thinking is that you settle comfortably into your chair, stare into the night, and eat popcorn. I think one of the reasons so few younger people show up is exactly because of that attitude. They’re sick of politics, still taking a break from the news, and hoping that the U.S. goes to hell. And honestly, that logic checks out—if MAGA doesn’t face consequences, they won’t learn anything. History has shown that.
But on the other hand, we no longer have the luxury of waiting. We are flirting with hard fascism and a total dismantling of democracy, and it’s time to get out into the streets. It requires new blood and leadership.
When we got home, we watched the news, which mainly covered who had the best signs and how many people showed up—but not a single speech that could be called substantial. We felt both big and small at the same time.
1% of the population had taken to the streets, and for a moment, the darkness vanished from the city.
Source:
Et Råb i Mørket
Mørket faldt over byen, skyggerne blev lange, og den lange nat begyndte. Rundt omkring i husene læste beboerne i byen deres personlige nyheder, og nogle kiggede bekymret ud af vinduerne og spekulerede på, hvad der egentlig foregik derude i natten.
Pludseligt blev dørene sparket op på plejehjemmene, og de gamle myldrede ud med lygter, skilte, sange og protest. De samledes på gadehjørner og viftede med skiltene mod månen. Beboerne i byen kiggede ud, og nogle blinkede med deres lommelygter for at støtte protesten. Med de gamle på gaderne trak mørket sig for en stund tilbage. Efter halvanden time blev de trætte, gik hjem og lagde skiltene på hylderne. Der blev igen stille på gaderne, og beboerne kiggede endnu engang ud i den store, stille, mørke nat, hvor mørket lagde sig som en dyne over byen.
Det er estimeret, at omkring 3 millioner amerikanere protesterede den 5. april. Jeg var en af dem. Det føltes godt og stærkt at stå på gadehjørnet i de halvanden time, vi lige kunne tage ud af dagligdagen, for at protestere mod fascismen, som er ved at overtage USA. Organiseret af græsrodsbevægelser foregik protesten uden nogen form for ledelse, ud over at vi alle mødtes det samme sted. Der var ingen taler, ingen der ledte den. Og fra hvad jeg kunne se – og senere har læst – så var langt de fleste over 50-60 år gamle, mange endnu ældre. Plejehjemmenes døre stod vidt åbne, men hvor var alle de andre?
Mine yngre venner (30-50 år) spurgte lidt ind til protesten, men mødte ikke op. De er oprørte over nogle ting, men har ikke det fulde billede af angrebet på demokratiet. De læser stadig nyheder på sociale medier og får mere af det samme, de allerede har 'liket'… Men de er så småt begyndt at blive bekymrede. Protesterne var i nyhederne i nogle dage, men blev hurtigt overmandet af tarifferne (handelskrigen). Det kan man jo godt forstå. Protesterne gik ikke viralt, og efter vi alle havde klappet hinanden på ryggen, stod vi tilbage med realisationen af, at det kun er ét skridt i den rigtige retning, og at vi stadig ingen magt har.
En anden ting, der slog mig, var, at stort set alle demonstranterne var hvide. Det er måske ikke så mærkeligt, for sådan er nabolaget, men jeg har hørt fra andre, at det er lidt med vilje (kilder nedenfor). Modstanden er større, end den ser ud, men det bliver ikke synligt, før vi er store nok til, at alle kommer på banen.
Græsrodsbevægelsen er fantastisk, men vi mangler desperat nogle ledere, der kan tage tråden op. Vi mangler Obama til at skrive nogle af sine fantastiske taler. Bernie og AOC holder store protester sammen, men er ikke rigtigt til stede under dem. Deres popularitet er støt stigende, og Cory Booker kunne tale i 25 timer – men hvor var hans tale under protesten?
Mange demokrater, jeg snakker med, har helt givet op med indstillingen: "Fuck 'em" – altså tanken om, at nu lader vi republikanerne gøre, hvad de vil, så MAGA kan føle konsekvenserne. Sådan har jeg det også, skal jeg indrømme. En konsekvens af den tankegang er, at man sætter sig godt til rette med røven i stolen, kigger ud i natten og spiser popcorn. Jeg tror, en af grundene til, at så få yngre møder op, er netop den holdning. De brækker sig over politik, holder
stadig pause fra nyhederne og håber, at USA går i hundene. Det er jo i princippet rigtigt – hvis ikke MAGA føler konsekvenserne, lærer de ikke noget. Det har tiden jo vist.
Men på den anden side har vi ikke længere den luksus at vente. Vi flirter med stærk fascisme og total nedrivning af demokratiet, og det er tid til at komme ud på gaderne. Det kræver nyt blod og ledere.
Da vi kom hjem, sad vi og så nyheder, som hovedsageligt dækkede, hvem der havde de bedste skilte, og hvor mange der var mødt op – men ikke en eneste tale, der kunne betragtes som substantiel. Vi følte os store og små på samme tid.
1 % af befolkningen var på gaden, og for en stund forsvandt mørket fra byen.
Mere læsning: Missing Black Lives Matter
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