Somebody Pinch Me with Sonia in Cyber

Protesting Is As American As It Gets

Sonia in Cyber

Protest isn’t un-American — it is America. In this episode, we dig into the history of protest as a cornerstone of democracy, from the Boston Tea Party to the No Kings protests of 2025. We unpack why taking to the streets matters, how movements spark courage in others, and why not everyone has to resist the same way to make an impact. Whether you march, speak, amplify, or protect — this is how we remind power who it serves.

About your host:
Sonia in Cyber is a multicultural feminist voice, creative entrepreneur, and unapologetic truth-teller. With roots in education, tech, and product marketing, she blends data with empathy, humor with heartbreak, to expose the cracks in America’s “normal.” Through her podcast Somebody Pinch Me, she gives voice to the disillusioned, the outspoken, the overlooked, and the quietly furious — proving that truth doesn’t just survive in chaos; it thrives in it. Her mission is simple: to use her voice to inspire others to keep fighting, resisting, and moving forward — no matter what.

Send us a text

Support the show

🎥 Watch full video podcast episodes on Youtube & Substack.

👉 Loved this episode? Hit follow so you never miss the next one.

💌 Want community and a space to feel less alone? Join us on Substack.

💕 Want to support the show and/or tip me? Buy Me A Coffee

🎙️ Interested in sponsoring an episode, participating, or collaborating with our host? Let’s chat!

Podcast inquiries: somebodypinchmepodcast@gmail.com
Host inquiries: hello@soniaincyber.com

🤗 Connect with Somebody Pinch Me & Sonia on socials:

💬 Got thoughts? Drop a comment, share with a friend, or tag us in your social posts — we'd love to hear how this landed with you.

@soniaincyber:

You know that feeling when everything in the world starts to feel too loud, but somehow not loud enough in the places where it matters? When you see one more news headline about rights being rolled back, when another powerful man gets away with something you'd be locked up for, when politicians start speaking in the kind of law and order language that history has already warned us about, and your gut starts whispering, "I've seen this movie before". Yeah, me too.

@soniaincyber:

And that's the point when something in many of us begins to shift. The screaming into pillows or doom scrolling on phones stops being enough. And we remember when power stops listening, protest is necessary, and just about the most American thing any of us can do in response to it.

@soniaincyber:

This is Somebody Pinch Me with Sonia in Cyber, and today, "Protesting Is As American As It Gets". Let's get into it.

@soniaincyber:

The myth that protest is unpatriotic is one of the most dangerous lies in this country, because this nation exists because a bunch of regular pissed-off people said enough. The Boston Tea Party wasn't some polite suggestion box. It was protest. It was property destruction, it was civil disobedience. The American Revolution wasn't born in Congress, it was born in the streets. Fast forward a century and a half, the women's suffrage movement. Women chained themselves to fences. They were arrested, beaten, and force fed. Not because they were violent, but because they dared to demand rights they were told they didn't deserve. The Labor Movement? Protests. The civil rights movement? Protests. Stonewall? Protests. Vietnam Resistance. Act Up. Occupy Wall Street. Ferguson. Standing Rock. Black Lives Matter. Protests. Strikes. Those moments when the power of the people spoke loudly.

@soniaincyber:

If you zoom out far enough, America's most profound leaps towards justice were never handed down gently from power. They were dragged into existence by people in the streets who refused to shut up. Our First Amendment of our U.S. Constitution gives us all the right to peacefully assemble, aka protest, advocate, petition our government. The right to assemble isn't an accessory right, it's not decorative, it's not there to make us feel good about democracy. It's the emergency break on a runaway train. It's the mechanism we use when people in charge stop representing us. Authoritarianism doesn't usually arrive overnight. It drips in quietly, law by law, court case by court case, and the easiest way for power to grow unchecked is silence.

@soniaincyber:

The streets are where silence breaks. They are where democracy reminds itself that it belongs to the people, not the other way around. And that brings us to right now, 2025, a year that already feels like a political earthquake. In June, thousands across the country flooded the streets in what came to be known as No Kings, Part One. And every month since the beginning of this year, people are resisting. The spark? The growing fear that was once unthinkable – centralized king-like power in a modern democracy – was becoming normalized. People marched to say: no kings, no dictators, no crown for a wannabe strong man – not here, not now, not ever.

@soniaincyber:

And here we are again in October with No Kings, Part 2. Bigger. Louder. Sharper. 7 million strong. These protests aren't some fringe spectacle, they're a public mirror, reflecting a simple truth. Democracy doesn't protect itself. People do. Every banner, every drumbeat, every march down a blocked-off street, is a refusal to accept authoritarianism as inevitable. It's people saying, "you may have the power, but you do not have our consent".

@soniaincyber:

And here's why it matters: authoritarianism doesn't always kick down the door wearing boots, sometimes it walks in with a smile and a slogan, or a suit, or shakes hands, it waves a flag, it tells you it's saving you from "them". And while some people stay comfortable, others start disappearing. Rights, protections, and eventually people themselves. History has taught us from Nazi Germany to Chile, from Jim Crow to Putin, silence is the oxygen authoritarianism breathes, and the streets are where that oxygen gets cut off. Protests are inconvenient, they're loud, they block traffic, they disrupt business as usual. That's the point, because business as usual is often what injustice hides behind.

@soniaincyber:

And they tried so hard to spin No King's protest into something negative. "It's a hate America rally." "It's a divide America event." "It's just angry liberals criticizing the best president this country has ever seen." Sure, MAGA. We don't march because we hate our country. We march because we love the idea of what it could be. We march because our ancestors marched. We march because our silence would betray every person who's risked their life so we could even stand there with a sign in our hands. And the marches are beautiful, filled with the diversity that is America, from 90-plus-year-old veterans in wheelchairs to eight-year-old children fighting for their future. And even those who couldn't march, protest or support the cause in other ways, donating funds, amplifying voices, protecting neighbors, showing up for the community, cutting back on consumption, voting. Resistance has always had many layers, but it needs every single one of us.

@soniaincyber:

You know what's wild? People often talk about protests like they're powerless because they don't always see immediate change. But here's what they forget: protests don't just move governments, they move people. They make the invisible visible. They turn a private rage into a shared roar. They remind us we are not alone. They help us remember that love and hope runs deep and hate never wins. Every massive movement started with a few people realizing they weren't the only ones screaming in their heads.

@soniaincyber:

So if you're someone sitting here thinking, but does it even make a difference? Isn't this just noise? The system's too big, the machine's too strong. I want you to hear me clearly. No protest is the finish line, but every protest is a beginning. Change doesn't erupt fully formed overnight. It grows like a crack in concrete, quiet at first, then unstoppable. Every march, every chant, every raised fist is a signal flare in the dark. It's how one person standing alone becomes ten, then a hundred, then thousands who refuse to be invisible. When you show up, even when it feels small, you become proof that someone else isn't crazy for caring. You become the permission someone else was waiting for to speak, to act, to rise. Movements don't just shift policy, they shift people. They make silence feel less comfortable, they make injustice impossible to ignore. Protest isn't about guaranteeing the outcome, it's about refusing to surrender before the story's even finished. This is not the final chapter. This is the prologue. And courage, your courage, our courage, is contagious. And we don't talk about this enough. Not everyone resists the same way, and that's not just okay, that's necessary.

@soniaincyber:

Some people will be on the front lines, marching until their voices give out. Some people will be behind the scenes – donating, amplifying, protecting. Some will be storytellers. Some will be medics. Some will be caretakers holding it down so others can march. Protest isn't a uniform, it's a tapestry, a thousand different threads woven together into something too strong to break. The point isn't how you show up, the point is that you do. Because every single act of resistance, big or small, loud or quiet, stacks. It builds. It fuels the next one. It tells those in power, we are not going away, we are not backing down, and we are everywhere.

@soniaincyber:

So if your protest looks different from someone else's – good. That means the movement is alive. That means we're harder to silence. Protesting isn't just an act of resistance, it's a declaration of ownership. This country doesn't belong to kings or crowns or parties or tyrants. It belongs to the people who refuse to give up. And as they come for democracy, we show up even louder, prouder, together. Because the story of America isn't written by the powerful, it's written by those who dare to rise up against them.

@soniaincyber:

If you're feeling that pull in your chest, follow it. Join a protest, support a protest, protect a protest, be the echo someone else is waiting to hear.