Take to the streets. But then what?

As in the the first Trump administration, there is increasing mobilization of large-scale protests against his administration’s heinous actions. While 2017 saw the Women’s March and March for Science, we are now seeing the 50501 movement, Stand Up For Science, Tesla Takedown protests, and rallies in defense of individuals kidnapped by ICE. There is a lot of resistance activity popping up, and it is inspiring to see such vigorous protest.

Mass protest is a very motivating political tactic with a long history. In the United States, it has been a feature of most all major social movements, including (but not limited to) the socialist, feminist, Civil Rights, and anti-war movements. Protests do strong political work by framing issues very clearly, showing massive numbers of people aligned in their thinking, and allowing an easy entry point for anyone interested in raising their voice to change society. For any individual, there is a sense of empowerment and possibility that nourishes your spirit during large protests and remains as an afterglow.

Yet there is always a lingering question after massive demonstrations: Now what? Political work can be a long and arduous task, especially when it comes to changing or dismantling institutions. That work is often less visible, but equally important. There are other skills that come into play for this long-form work, such as structure organizing, power mapping, visioning, and dialogue.

As another round of massive protest is in the queue for April 5, there is a tremendous opportunity to use the energy and momentum of this moment to lead into sustained political work that could change structures. Looking back at large rallies in 2017 and beyond, it is clear that the results are mixed: many minds were changed but social structures did not, so we are having to protest again. With this round of emergency mobilization, organizers should be looking to strategically create avenues for rallygoers to transition into continuous political work, taking the big issues to their own local contexts.

It is a time-honored tradition in societies of all political orientations to take to the streets and advocate for change. The United States has a long history of mass protest. Some of the most iconic moments in history, as well as the biggest markers of progress, were brought about in part by thousands if not millions in the streets.

There is a remarkable psychological effect for individuals and groups who engage in mass protest. The excitement is so palpable. It is powerful to feel collective anger, righteousness, grief. Seeing the reactions of those who come out of their houses or shops, and support from the sidelines, is encouraging. Taking note of all the different kinds of people who came to march or rally gives you faith in humanity. Engaging in a deeply social act, in unison with so many people, can be a transformative experience.

The larger-scale political effects of mass protest are also worth noting. For one, they are excellent mechanisms to move the previously unengaged to action. It is easy to show up, bring a friend or two, make a sign, and move along with the crowd. Large protests also stand a chance to expand the realm of political possibility, and encourage powerful people to change their minds. If media favorably covers protest actions, the reach of the message can be expansive.

Yet at the same time, mass protest, as a tactic, has potential pitfalls. As previously mentioned, there is a chance that the massive mobilization doesn’t go anywhere. Powerful people don’t have to change their minds, and media can ignore or dismiss these actions. Mass protests can be energy-intensive, and those in power know this. They can wait out protests and hang tight until people get tired. Moreover, mass protest often appeals to a limited crowd, attracting those who are already more or less in agreement, but not those who are farther away or in disagreement.

Both these benefits and shortcomings are present in the mass actions that marked Trump’s first presidency. Many of us saw proliferation of signs of support that said things like “Science is real” or “I believe women.” A tremendous amount of people, me included, were inducted into longer campaigns for change that were catalyzed by large mobilizations. But at the same time, now in 2025, we see that there are still enormous debates over science and feminism. The divides on the issues have even worsened.

I believe that some mass protest issues have degraded even further because while there was brief mobilization initially, powerful people did not use their positions to institutionalize systems that would address the issues, and grassroots campaigns didn’t continue to push. All the while, right-leaning media and power-holders used the opportunity to create reactive backlash campaigns and make sweeping structural changes when in power.

Now, we are in a state of affairs where the nation is deeply divided over some of these issues, and Trump’s new administration is taking advantage of their power to materially harm structures dedicated to things like science, gender equity, and more.

Take the example of Freedom Summer 2020, after George Floyd’s murder. I argue that these protests stand as one of the best recent examples of successful mass protest whose energy and results were both skillfully subverted by politicians and left to the wayside by organizers.

By all accounts, this checked every box for successful and continued mass mobilization. There were enormous protests weekly. Young people, older people, multiracial groups, cross-class groups were all mobilizing. There were even acts of property damage and violence against protesters. Both liberal and left-leaning media covered the protests favorably. Many minds were swayed.

But we should critically think of the results. For many in the liberal center and left, this moved people to learn about and fight for racial justice, especially for black people. Many institutions adopted DEI programs in the aftermath, prioritizing racial equity. But as time went on, we saw that many DEI programs were quite performative, not truly committed to justice and equity, but nonetheless implemented widely in many institutions. It seemed that the liberal political center co-opted DEI in its messaging but kept inequitable and unjust structures in tact.

The right used the protests and ensuing DEI programs to spark an enormous backlash campaign. Throughout right-leaning media, for years, they railed against “woke” politics, DEI programs, and more. This campaign became a core piece of Trump’s new platform for 2024. There are many who were dissatisfied with DEI programs, experiencing resentment from being told they were racist and needed to change how they act, feeling left behind because their material circumstances were poor while programs were advocating for minoritized people to be given priority. This confluence of material conditions set the stage for the anti-woke, anti-DEI program to be very successful.

Now, in this moment, we are seeing institutions drop their DEI commitments, individuals back away and erase any mention of DEI from their personal work, and anti-woke politics continuing to be a strong messaging point. The landscape now is quite strange, as some left-leaning people are doubling down on DEI, but feeling torn about it because the institutionalized DEI programs were not as justice oriented as many had hoped. Many liberals are backing away from DEI and showing a lack of commitment. Right-leaning people are likely quite satisfied with the dismantling of DEI.

The widespread institutionalization of DEI programs is probably one of the most successful outcomes that massive protest from the left has had in recent memory. This was a moment where people actually listened to the mass protests and sought to make changes toward their values. Yet it also became co-opted and then used as an effective backlash campaign. What can we learn from this?

While these actions brought in many liberal and left-leaning people, they pushed away people who are more conservative. Some of the ways that DEI programs were implemented in institutions were not savvy: they were often under-resourced, implemented through top-down actions like policy changes and workshops (I heard many anecdotes of dreaded DEI workshops), and were disliked by people across the political spectrum. To be clear, I think they had many benefits, but were not well-executed.

To truly make changes that are very difficult to take away, we need to get the vast majority of people onboard. This includes doing the difficult work of bringing in people who are more conservative or who don’t already agree with you. Supporters of racial justice, DEI, or a more justice-oriented version of DEI (maybe DEIJ), should have been working within their own institutions and contexts to fight this fight. Rather than only rely on someone else to implement it in a top-down fashion — say, a DEI coordinator at a university — we should have been taking action to get everyone on board.

This is much harder political work. Maybe it would have included committing to talking to all your coworkers about what’s going on, trying to get mass agreement within your own corporation, having the difficult conversations with those who disagree. It might have meant learning from people that they feel bad being called racist, that they feel cheated by DEI-focused hiring, and figuring out how to see their fears, acknowledge them, and either try to bring them on board or incorporate their concerns into DEI policy.

This style of politics is hyper local. It’s also hyper vulnerable. It’s quite a bit easier to feel anonymity in the streets, and power to say what you want within a group of agreeing people. It’s much more difficult to stick your neck out in your workplace, apartment complex, friend group, or family. It’s even more difficult to be committed to genuinely hearing and working with disagreement from others while doing this type of work.

The arc of the 2020 Freedom Summer protests after George Floyd’s murder, including the five years of political aftermath, are an excellent example of how mass protest can succeed, and the response fall short. There may have been more success from these programs if the initial energy was captured at local levels and worked into institutions in a way that didn’t make such a ripe opening for backlash. This example contains lessons we can learn for our mass protests going forward.

To materially change society towards the direction of social justice, action cannot just stop at the mass mobilization. As we take to the streets in 2025 to defend the institution of science, protest against hate, or reject authoritarian rule, we should be constantly thinking, “How can I help enact these changes in the groups I’m a part of?”

Even if political figures take up these mandates and make strong structural changes to society, it is up to normal people like you and me to do the work to truly transform institutions and groups from the inside out. This will look different depending on the spaces we occupy and how they’re structured. But in general, we need to be thinking in terms of structural and social change. This means doing the hard and long-term political work.

These political acts look very different than taking to the streets en masse. Tactics can vary but some commonalities exist between all of them. To ensure that lasting structural change occurs in the wake of massive mobilizations, people need to take the energy of these large whirlwind moments and channel them into the groups that they are a part of. More people need to be engaged with than those who just already agree with you. It needs to become difficult for powerful people to swoop in and destroy these structures and ideals again.

Our larger society is democratic only if our institutions and groups of association are democratic. If we are instead occupying top-down corporations ruled by executives, or universities dominated by layers of unaccountable administrators, normal people are not in positions of power. High-level officials in undemocratic institutions are only following their own incentives, which can be easily swayed by authoritarian governors. Only by having truly collective governance structures, and deliberating to reach mass agreement, will our politics change and stay changed.

The question remains: are we committed to doing this kind of local, vulnerable political work in the wake of massive mobilizations? I believe that without this kind of work, given the political landscape that we exist in where are are so divided, we stand to simply generate agreement of, at best, half the country, while the right uses this opportunity to continually push its supporters further against us.

One critical point to mention may be that this type of hyper local work does not stand in opposition to mass protest. If anything, mass protest can serve as a great mechanism for refreshing our energy, becoming re-motivated and re-inspired among like-minded people, and reaffirming our commitment to continuing the work at the local level. The two types of tactics should not be viewed as one or the other, but rather incomplete without each other.

If this style of local politics seems very difficult or daunting, that means that we need to commit to learning how to better perform it. Like any skill, it’s something that we may not be very practiced at. But if we deem it important enough, we can continue to try, perhaps fail a few times, and improve over time.