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They came from different walks of life and paths that led them to the same moment: Saturday’s No Kings rally and march in Springfield.
Some were old enough to remember the protests of a past generation, like when police in Berkeley teargassed students protesting against the Vietnam War. For younger protesters, the No Kings event was their first time protesting, making their voices heard outside Springfield City Hall to join with thousands of others protesting across the United States.
For this generation of protesters, the anger runs deeper than a single conflict in a faraway land. The No Kings protesters are fearful for their immigrant neighbors and angry at Trump’s swipes at Greenland, the war with Iran and more. They are worried about rising gasoline prices and want a change in the status quo.
Besides voting, this is one tool they wield: showing up and uniting their voices with others across the nation.
A voice for the matriarchy
Kathy Hahn, a retired pharmacist who lives in Eugene, said the No Kings rallies nationwide will draw attention to issues, and spur real change if participation reaches 3.5% of the overall population, a number that’s long been considered a marker for demonstrations to affect change.
“If you can get to that number, this can make a difference,” Hahn, 71, said.
Like other protesters, she opposes Trump’s policies on a wide scale.
Hahn got her first taste of protests in the 1970s as a student at the University of California, Los Angeles. In that era, Gloria Steinem and Angela Davis inspired young activists, speaking at events.
These days, the protesters are more diverse.
“There’s way more participation now,” she said. “We were the small feminist voices.”
Yet feminism continues just the same: Hahn held a sign that read, “Can we try matriarchy now?”
Unlike a male-dominated patriarchy in which power spreads down, a matriarchy is a circle in which everybody is involved, Hahn said.
“We don’t demand power at the top. We want everyone to be included and be a part of the village.”
No kings, except Burger King
Each wearing a Burger King crown, Clyde Bollman joined his stepson Dalton Landis for the No Kings event.
“I hate what’s going on,” said Bollman, a 59-year-old from Springfield. “I hate what’s going on in the United States nowadays.”
That list includes the Trump administration’s handling of the Epstein files, its aggressive stance toward Greenland and its immigration policies, said Landis, 31, of Eugene. They’re hoping to raise awareness.
“We’re just trying to do what little we can just by being visible,” Landis said.
The two are relatively new to protesting: Bollman attended a Black Lives Matter protest a few years ago. For Landis, it was his first protest.
Bollman acutely feels the effects of Trump’s policies in Springfield. A landscaper, he is dealing with higher gasoline costs and is absorbing those expenses rather than passing them on to elderly customers.
Ballman came up with the idea of Burger King hats.
“It’s no Kings Day, and Burger King is the only king we should have,” he said.
Memories of past protests
Cristin Babcock, 69, and her friend Regan Weaver, 68, have memories of the Vietnam-era protests of their childhoods, from Berkeley to Eugene. In this generation’s era of No Kings marches and protests of federal policies, they want their protest to inspire others to make their voices heard.
“I think the more people who show up, the more people beneath Trump are going to feel the heat,” said Weaver, a Eugene resident. “He doesn’t give a f—.”
Babcock said Trump’s actions, ranging from Iran to immigration policies, are corrupt, with more people saying, “this isn’t right.”
On the sunny, peaceful day, they reflected on memories of their early protests. Babcock, a Creswell resident, grew up in Berkeley. She remembers when her junior high school was evacuated in 1969 during a protest at People’s Park after a helicopter dropped tear gas too close to her school. Class was let out early.
As a 13-year-old, she joined the protest and wound up with a group of protesters running from police and crammed into the back of an alley. She avoided arrest.
“The policemen took a look at these kids and others, and just said, ‘Get out of here,’” Babcock said.
Weaver, who is also daughter of the late congressman Jim Weaver, was teargassed in 1968 at age 11 during an anti-war protest on Alder Street in Eugene. These days, they say the movement of this era is not limited to youth.
“You see a lot of gray hair,” Babcock said. “I get the feeling that it was a youth movement then and now it’s broader.”
Fighting for transgender rights
Andi Berlin is a 23-year-old photographer who lives in Eugene.
“The country kind of sucks,” said Berlin. “I am trans, and all of the laws and stuff is really crappy. … So I’m out here fighting for my rights.”
They said it was unfortunate that they were among the few young people there.
As for the impact they hoped to have: “I hope some kid sees me and knows they’re not alone. That’s kind of all I can do individually.”
As a group and as a community, “we can do a lot, hopefully,” they said, adding that they hoped at the very least “everyone leaves with a smile knowing that there’s good community around them.”
Berlin recalled stepping up to plan a protest in Indiana after Trump was elected to his second term.
“It wasn’t being organized very well, so me and my friend decided, ‘You know what, we can do this better,’” they said.
So they gathered multiple local organizers to work together for one protest.
“I was in a place where, mentally, I wanted to fight really hard,” Berlin said. “It was cool. A lot of people showed up, especially for Indiana.”
“You can’t make a change from your couch”
Tracy Painter has been to all of the No Kings events and often attends protests at the Veterans Hospital and in downtown Eugene.
As for why she’s protesting: “It is all wrong, completely, 100%, everything. I’m so sick of it.”
The 68-year-old Eugene resident, who is retired, said high turnout is key to sending a message that citizens want change.
“I know that numbers count, and I want to see the numbers up, and it will have an effect,” Painter said. “If you can get 3.5% of the population out on a consistent basis, you can make a change, and it’s happened around the world in a lot of different countries, and we can make it happen here too.”
She said staying in the shadows is not going to effect change.
“You can’t make a change from your couch,” Painter said. “We have to come out. We just have to. We’re still lucky enough that we still have that ability legally.”
Medical student takes a stand
Chris Kee marched in the streets of Springfield dressed in a clown outfit and carrying a sign that read, “No crowns for clowns.” The 35-year-old Creswell resident is a second-year medical student.
He attended the event to take a stand with the community.
“There’s a lot going on right now that’s taken away rights from people, taken away livelihoods and lives of citizens and just things that we don’t stand for,” Kee said.
“And then, as a future healthcare provider, too, there’s a lot going on that’s negatively impacting health care going forward. It’s a pivotal point that we need to also stand up for our rights as citizens, so that we don’t lose access to healthcare going forward.”
He said he has only one voice, but people marching in the streets can collectively change public perception and narrative.
“You see how many people are out here in the streets,” Kee said. “This is really what the country wants.”
He said his first protest was in Portland in 2020 after George Floyd was killed by a police officer.
“That was very eye-opening, just seeing a large collection of people coming together for a singular cause, and just seeing how important it is to use your voice and use your presence,” Kee said. “Because the reality is that things are very peaceful out here, and it kind of goes against the narrative.”
Voices of the working class
Lonnie Douglas hopes that if enough people stand up and have their voices heard, it will create change.
“Things are so bad, and we need to get out and do something to at least say, ‘Fix ‘em,’” said the 55-year-old Eugene resident.
Douglas, who is retired, said his first protest experience was in 2015 at a ‘15 Now’ rally for the movement to raise the minimum wage to $15 an hour.
“Working people in our country aren’t making enough to live or survive even back then, and it’s only gotten worse now,” Douglas said. “Every year it gets worse. So if the working-class people and the working-poor people don’t stand up against all the things that are happening, it’s just going to get harder to put food on the table and a roof over our heads. So that’s why we have to be out here to have our voices heard.”
