I Attended the Trump Protest, and it was Glorious


Well, when I say 'the' in the title of this post, what I should be saying instead is 'one of the'. You see, it was recently announced that the UK Prime Minister had invited Mr. Trump, the new Presi for Freedom Eagle World, for a state visit. You may be thinking: "Well, what's the big deal over that?", like I did. But you need to know that a state visit means a near-celebratory welcoming for the guest - an event hosted by the Queen. Is this what the misogynistic, Islamophobic, Twitter-twat deserves? In the eye of over 1.7M UK residents, no.

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Such speed to invite a President to a state visit is unprecedented, too. Recent history shows US leaders tend to serve a couple of years before being invited for the special visit (official visits as a US representative are different), so the sheer swiftness of the invite has led many to believe Theresa May is trying hard to get into Trump's good books. And while a 'special relationship' may be good politically, Trump's policies blend about as well with the majority UK general population as a glass of milk and cola.

Naturally people were unhappy with May's bending over, and what do unhappy people do? They want their voices heard. Of course, you can rant on Facebook and Twitter all you like, but nothing quite makes a point stand than collaborating all together and amplifying your voice by hundreds. Trump protests were happening all around the country on Monday evening (30th January 2017), and it just so happened I was in London that day.

I had never been part of a protest before, so this was to be a brand new experience for me. While I disagree with almost everything Trump stands for, my hatred isn't quite passionate enough to go out of my way to protest for. However, these people shared my viewpoint, so I didn't feel out of place at all mixing in. They were just far more dedicated, and for that I have nothing but respect for them.

The first thing that hit me as my friend and I approached the organised chaos was the sheer noise. If you imagine what a football stadium sounds like when the home team scores, you're pretty much there, but it was constant. And, though I can't specifically place my finger on how, I could really feel the emotion through the noise. It's weird: it was just a wall of  incomprehensible human noises, but the raw emotion was easy to detect. People really hated this man, and rightly so.

The atmosphere was electric. The way people chanted together was addictive. Seeing so many people of all ages, nationalities and sexes unite together over one problem was oddly empowering. I guess it's nice to know I'm not alone in my concerns.

Despite it being so crowded, it was incredibly organised. I never once got squashed, there was never any panic or anger from people; the police were just standing in a row probably having a relatively easy shift. Some of the picket signs gave a good chuckle, too.

My friend and I didn't hang around for ages, but we were there for nearly an hour. We retreated round the back with a slight euphoria, and headed towards Trafalger Square, where, upon Nelson's Column, we got a fantastic view of all the happenings. I had no picket sign, and I didn't really chant anything, but just adding bulk to the protest movement was enough to make me feel part of it all.

In reality, I'm well aware how little protests and petitions tend to do. But at the same time, making the public viewpoint known is undoubtedly pressure being applied to politicians when making decisions. After my unforgettable experience, all I can say is: if a peaceful protest is happening surrounding an issue you care about, don't be afraid to attend it. You will not regret.