So You Protested (or Didn’t). Here’s What to Do Next.

No. 22 | Democracy needs more than moments. It needs momentum—and your steady, everyday presence.

"What’s the point of protesting… and … in the rain?"

That’s what a parent asked me during my daughter’s dance competition this weekend. We weren’t just sitting in a theater full of sequins and stage makeup—we were watching it unfold from the lobby window. Outside, crowds gathered at the Ohio Statehouse with signs reading “Do not obey in advance,” “Dump fascism,” “For the people, by the United States,” and “Love over hate.” Rainbow flags waved alongside upside-down American flags and anti-Trump motifs. And still, despite the cold and the rain, they stood. Together. Refusing to stay silent.

I get the skepticism. Protest can feel like shouting into the wind. It rarely changes things overnight. Most people don’t hold a sign and watch the world shift before their eyes. So, what is the point?

The point is voice.
The point is being seen.
The point is conversation.
The point is community.
And yes—even in the rain.

Protest is just one part of civic engagement. It’s not the end of the road—it’s the spark.

As a kid, I remember flipping through photos in my school library: Rosa Parks on the bus. Martin Luther King Jr. marching in Selma. The Little Rock Nine walking through jeering crowds just to attend school. I remember reading Anne Frank’s diary and Night by Elie Wiesel, wondering what it meant to be on the “right side of history.” Even then, I had a strong sense of justice. A pull toward what was right. A belief that love was the better path—and that silence was complicity.

That instinct still guides me.

I’m now the CEO of a nonprofit organization with a nearly 50-year history of civic dialogue. The Columbus Metropolitan Club was founded by 13 women who were excluded from business and civic conversations happening in social clubs—spaces where, because of their gender, they were literally not allowed through the front doors. And this wasn’t the 1950s. This was the 1970s, ’80s, and even into the ’90s. These women—partners at law firms, influential philanthropists, civic leaders—decided to create their own forum. One where diverse voices could gather and talk about the issues shaping Central Ohio.

Some might say, our origin story was a protest. A demonstration of civic voice.

Now, every week, I moderate those conversations—forums on economic development, public art, housing, and health care. My job isn’t to dictate answers. It’s to hold space for hard questions, so people can wrestle their way toward shared understanding.

A few days before the dance competition, outside one of those public forums, a group of peace activists gathered—holding signs and handing out flyers about militarization and public spending. Before the event started, I stepped outside to greet every single person there. Not to argue. Not to correct. Just to say hello. Just to see them—really see them. Because sometimes, being seen is where healing starts.

One of them turned out to be a former colleague. We hugged.

That moment wasn’t about agreement. It was about acknowledgment. Their peaceful, civil demonstration was a sign of civic health, not dissent to be feared. And that’s the part we often overlook: protest is about being present, and reminding others that someone, somewhere, still believes change is worth showing up for.

So, if you protested (or even if you sat this one out...), now what?

Small Good Things:

• Talk to someone who saw the protest differently. Ask questions. Get curious.

• Send a follow-up email to your legislator. Name the protest. Name your concern. Use Common Cause’s tool to get started.

• Write about what you experienced—even if just in a journal. Reflection turns moments into movements.

• Donate to a grassroots organization connected to the cause—like Indivisible, Center for Community Change, or your local chapter of SURJ (Showing Up for Racial Justice).

• Teach your kids what you did and why. Let them see civic action modeled, not just mentioned.

Big Good Things:

• Host a conversation in your living room or local coffee shop. Invite a city council member or school board rep. You might be surprised—they often say yes. (Or at least in Columbus they do. 🧡

• Show up for local policy hearings. Sign up to give testimony—or just listen and learn how decisions are made.

• Build a network of neighbors who care. Use tools like Action Network to start a list or organize meetups.

• Run for something. A board. A commission. A precinct seat. Democracy needs you.

Two weeks ago, during her spring break, my daughter Caroline attended one of our public forums. When the mic opened for questions, she raised her hand and asked Ohio’s conservative governor, Mike DeWine, a question I won’t soon forget. (Governor DeWine recently signed HB1, a controversial higher education bill that limits diversity and inclusion efforts, bans faculty strikes, and imposes new rules on classroom discussions about race, gender, and abortion. The bill passed despite more than 800 Ohioans submitting testimony in opposition.)

Caroline asked:

“What should kids do if they want to make a difference, but they don’t feel heard? What’s the best way they can be a leader and speak up?”

I looked at her in that moment—brave and sincere—and thought, this is how it begins. Not with shouting. With wondering. With asking hard questions in rooms that don’t always listen.

That was her moment. Her civic spark.

So if you’re wondering what the point of protest is, maybe the real question is this:

What will you do with your spark?

Because democracy doesn’t just need the soaked and shouting.
It needs the steady, the kind, the quietly courageous.
It needs neighbors who show up, again and again.

Even in the rain.

Love + Light,

Sophia

P.S. If you want to keep learning and connecting with people who care, join me at Keyholder 2025, hosted by The Women’s Fund of Central Ohio on May 8 at the Palace Theatre in Columbus. It’s a night of local changemakers sharing powerful stories—and a fundraiser to support women and girls across our region.

Use the code SOPHIA for $10 off tickets. Can’t attend? Make a donation and support the work anyway.