On Saturday – in the pouring rain and surrounded by drummers and inflatable characters from Sponge Bob Square Pants – my son turned to look at me with the earnest, questioning eyes of a young man coming of age in a most uncertain time.
“Momma,” he paused, raindrops splattering on our shared umbrella. “If we lose democracy, what happens then?”
I’ve been a parent long enough to have been in that uncomfortable space when you don’t know what to say more than once.
But this was different. I paused and measured my words, taking care not to be too light nor too heavy.
I looked into the eyes I’ve looked into for over 13 years, and said “Kiddo, it’s tough to say. But that’s why we’re here. That’s why we speak up and protest and make noise. And that’s why I work so hard for your future.”
I let the silence land and stopped myself from over explaining, over soothing.
He nodded, his hand gripping a little tighter around the umbrella.
While I gripped his shoulder a little tighter.
Then to lighten the mood I pointed out a few irreverent signs around us (there were plenty), and we laughed. And then we marched with the rest of the soggy masses down the St. Louis streets, flanked by a brass band and an inflated unicorn.
When I asked him yesterday morning on the drive to school what was his favorite part of the weekend, he said it was the protest.
Mine, too, I said. Mine, too.
I’m sure I wasn’t the only parent to have a sticky conversation about democracy with their teenager on Saturday. Across the country, millions turned out for demonstrations reminding those in power that we don’t do kings in America. That conversation with my son was a stark reminder of the stakes – for my future and for his.
And perhaps because of where I live, I can see that danger more directly. More urgently. More tangibly.
While I live in a blue city in a blue district, I also live in a red state.
And friend, Red State Democrats often feel invisible. Unseen.
But we are here. We are doing the work. Often in hostile places. In the places nobody else dares to go.
We’re organizing, registering, recruiting, and yes – protesting – despite gerrymanders, and voter suppression, and lack of support.
We just keep showing up. Don’t count us out.
Count us in.
On Sunday as I hopescrolled through social media, I started taking screenshots of the protests that I saw from small towns. Some with hundreds of participants. Some with just one person on a busy corner with a sign and a smile.
I didn’t know why I started saving them to my laptop.
Now I do. It’s because I wanted these people to be seen.
And I wanted you to see them.
A friend told me about a protest that happened in a small Missouri town – not outside the courthouse or the town square, but across from the Walmart.
The Walmart on Saturday is probably the busiest part of most small towns.
You have to know that those people want to be seen by their neighbors and fellow community members – and that’s courageous right there.
Of course it takes courage to protest in any place, but in Red States – and especially red rural places within Red States – it’s potentially relationship-ending. It can cost you your job, your friendships, your clients – even your kids’ friendships.
Yet these folks showed up anyway. Signs raised. Voices loud. Refusing to be erased.
That’s what rejection of authoritarianism looks like in real life. It’s not always dramatic or cinematic. Sometimes it’s twenty people standing in a Walmart parking lot in the rain, knowing their neighbors are watching and maybe shaking their heads. Knowing there might be consequences, but choosing to stand there anyway.
That scene played out in small towns in red states across the country:
Screenshots of Small Town No Kings Protests, October 18, 2025
Look at these faces. These signs. These gatherings in places where being publicly Democratic comes at a cost.
Ohio, Utah, Tennessee, Montana, Missouri, Indiana, Kentucky, West Virginia – Red State after Red State, town after town, person after person. Not because their town is “flippable” or on some battleground spreadsheet.
But because it’s worth fighting for.
This is what courage looks like in Red America. Not the performative kind that plays well on social media, but the quiet, stubborn kind that shows up anyway.
And honestly – how could you not be inspired after seeing these images from the reddest parts of the country, where there’s a social cost to publicly being a Democrat?
To me, that’s the breakthrough story of the weekend. It’s a story of grit, dedication, determination, and passion playing out on dirt roads and small towns all across the country.
It’s the story of Red State Democrats who are refusing to be quiet, even if speaking up may cost them friends or business or their career – or their peace of mind.
The reason I work so hard to bring about change in Red States is because that’s where the change needs to happen most.
Blue States still need support – of course. But we can make the most progress, pick up the most low hanging fruit, in the places that have all too often been forgotten.
This weekend proved that Red State Democrats are done being forgotten. We’re done being written off. We’re done waiting for permission to fight for our democracy.
From small gatherings in places you might not expect to massive marches in cities that happen to be surrounded by red, we’re sending a message. We don’t do kings here. We don’t bow. We don’t submit to authoritarian power grabs or democratic backsliding.
We show up. We speak up. We organize.
And we’re teaching our kids to do the same.
When my son said the protest was his favorite part of the weekend, I was reminded of something important. He’s learning that democracy isn’t something you passively inherit.
It’s something you fight for, again and again, in the rain, with an inflatable unicorn nearby and questions in your heart.
That’s something Red State Democrats have learned over decades, while being overlooked, underappreciated, and misunderstood.
But we’re still here.
That’s the work. That’s the story of Red State Democrats.
Friend, we’re not finished.
We’re just getting started.
Let’s get to work.
P.S. It’s been my literal dream to build communities of people like you and me that support the Democrats running in the reddest places in the country – a sort of cheerleading team of activists and fundraisers and doers. I like to think that’s what we’ve built at Every State Blue. A structure, a community, an engine that supports the people doing the toughest work in the toughest places – and supports each other in the process.
I’ll be honest that the first few years – especially right after founding Blue Missouri – I saw a lot of smirks, plenty of side-eye and even an eye roll or two.
But now it’s different. Now I feel like there’s a tide turning – a focus shift. It’s as if suddenly everyone can see the sea of Democratic voters that have been hiding in plain sight all along, just waiting for someone to turn in their direction, give them some encouragement, show them some support.
And I am here for it.
If that’s your jam, too, I hope you’ll check out Every State Blue and either support us (which you can do here) or join one of our projects: Blue Missouri, Blue Ohio, and Blue Tennessee.
Actions for the Week of October 21, 2025
Friend, things may be heavy – but you can lighten that load by doing something small – a “small deed” – to bring about the world that you want to see. In doing so we tell the world, the universe, our leaders – and most importantly, ourselves – that we will not go quietly into that good night.
I call it Action Therapy.
That’s why in each Tuesday post I share a few “small things” – usually a Small Thing to Read, a Small Event to Attend, and a Small Call to Make or Action to Take. My intention here is to give you actions you can tuck into your week with ease – and know that you’re doing something today to make tomorrow better.
Join me in doing so. It matters.
Small Events to Attend: Blue Missouri and No Kings Follow Up call
Tonight I’ll be joining Jess Piper and Chris Jones from The Swine Republic for our Blue Missouri meeting to talk about the farming issues at hand and how we got here. We’ll talk water quality and the nexus of rural politics and agriculture and the environment. You should come! Register here.
Also! The “what’s next” No Kings call is happening tonight (October 21) from 8-9pm eastern. Register for that here: https://www.mobilize.us/nokings/event/858246/
Small Call to Make: Call Your GOP Senators – They Own This Shutdown
There’s so much to unpack from the news that the fact our government is shut down is not the top news story anymore. That’s actually why I think it’s important to call your GOP senators and tell them that you are still holding them accountable for this shutdown and the impact it is having on their constituents.
You can dial the switchboard at 202-224-3121.
Script: Hello, my name is (your name) and I’m a constituent at (your city or zip). I’m deeply concerned about this government shutdown and how it’s hurting businesses, workers, and families like mine.
Republicans control all of government, but it’s clear they’re more focused on partisan games than on real problems. Cut the BS and get back to the negotiating table. I’ll be watching how the Senator handles this.
Small Thing to Read (or Bookmark!): No Kings Resource Page
Hat tip to the always fabulous Rogan’s List for listing the No Kings protest resource page this afternoon. It’s chock full of great content that we should all keep at the ready. I don’t know about you, but I’m hopeful that we’ll be having No Kings protests every few months – so these resources are good ones to keep into the future. Find them here: https://www.nokings.org/kyr
Thanks for reading, friend – I’m glad to see you here! You’re making a difference, I promise.
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Small Deeds Done 