What's the point of a protest?

Stand alongside the Palestinian diaspora in steadfast resistance and you'll see.

I received this question in my Tumblr ask box this morning, and I thought it was important to answer:

I used to feel this way, anon. I have done political activism since I was a teenager, and many of my experiences at protests felt inert, performative, and self-congratulatory. I used to feel incredibly self-conscious standing in the crowd, a sign in my hand, words that I had not written coming from my mouth, seemingly nobody but the cops and other protestors witnessing me and what I was doing. I’d go home, having failed to change the world in any measurable way, and feel useless.

And then I saw Palestinian men full-on crying at protests while Facetiming their relatives overseas, to show them that people actually cared. And I saw young Palestinian kids walking in front of their moms, dads, aunts, and uncles, leading the chants of thousands of people, filled with confidence, not afraid to name their home land and give a voice to their resistance. And I saw elderly Muslim people, people who have likely not attended many American protests before of this size, emboldened and waving Palestinian flags and recognizing old family friends in the crowd and embracing one another. I realized then that even the social, peformative aspect of protesting is worthwhile. Being witnessed by Palestinian people as a person who cares about them matters. Lending strength to their actions by contributing to the protest’s numbers matters.

At actions this month, I also saw the highway be stopped for hours by thousands of us, forcing the entire city's road system to be rerouted, forcing untold numbers to contend with the rage that we feel. And I saw us shut down all Black Friday shopping on the north end of Michigan avenue, closing off Victoria's Secret (which has manufacturing plants on Palestinian land), and covering the largest Starbucks in the Midwest (an informal boycott target) with dozens of pro-Palestinian banners and stickers.

I've seen us showing up for one another again and again and again, every weekend, blocking off boycotted stores, ending business as usual, disrupting traffic, exhausting the police (who have had to pull a lot of overtime to deal with us), drawing attention to the cause, ending politicians' fundraising and meet & greet events, emboldening more and more people to attend actions, and not allowing business to go on as usual or ourselves to be complicit any longer.

I get the jadedness anon. I do. I have been there, especially after seeing awful police violence against protestors in 2020 and then seeing very little legal change occur. But the meaningful change we need will not occur via legal avenues. Protest is a means of building up collective power, of training people to think more collectively, of helping to normalize the viewpoints that we are advocating for, of disrupting regular everyday activities such as shopping and work that distract people from what is happening, of wearing the police state down, of making our political representatives fearful and tired, and of setting the stage for larger, bolder, more disruptive direct actions that prevent or end humanitarian crises.

Large, successful actions like #BlocktheBoat don’t just happen out of nowhere. You have to have a dedicated team of organizers and hundreds to thousands of devoted activists, medics, legal observers, coordinators, and people on the side lines offering resources and food. You need people to feel uplifted, motivated, and confident. You don't just get that in one day. The west coast has been able to launch incredibly effective actions like these because their work is YEARS in the making. Every major protest, every autonomous zone, every organizing meeting, it has all led to this.

It takes work. It takes people being willing to show up and do that work, regularly, even when it is not glamorous, even when they do not get a sticker for it, and even when they cannot always walk away feeling that they've done something personally in that moment that was a success. It is a collective, long term endeavor, and it requires toughness and commitment. The wonderful thing is that the more collectively you think and behave, the less alone and hopeless you feel in your endeavors. The protests become an uplifting moment of connection for you, too.

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Besides, the protests we are talking about actually are direct actions. Protestors yesterday shut down Zara. And now the company has to contend with a lot of bad PR from thousands of us screaming outside Zara's flagship store in Chicago, speaking out about its advertisements mocking the Palestinian people. Shutting down the highway multiple times and other boycotted stores and ruining political fundraisers is directly impactful too. And if any protestors want to take it further than that, I welcome them and I'll be there to join them. The Black & Indigenous solidarity rally in 2020 was one really impactful example. It came to blows in a serious way, but we almost tore the Columbus statue down with our own hands and ropes. The city was so afraid of another incident they took the statue down themselves.

This is how we get things done. We show up, in large numbers, we give comfort and steadfast support to those most targeted by genocidal violence, we show the state our true numbers, we wake other people up from their slumber, we grow strong, and we keep pushing to do more.

We need as many people on the line as possible. The presence of every single person at a protest is powerfully felt. Numbers gives us confidence. It literally keeps us warmer in the cold in a noticeable way. It shows Palestinian people that we are with them, it broadcasts a message on the world stage, and it makes it possible for things like flipping over police cars and starting fires and closing bomb manufacturers possible.