I stood among the crowd of a couple thousand protestors in front of the Old Florida Capitol, a charming historic building with a gray-ish dome and striped awnings — the effect marred by the huge phallic structure right behind it. Looking around, I saw a lot of young women and men, but the majority of the people were my age or older. These boomers were perfectly at home, waving their “no kings” signs, smiling and singing or just stopping to chat with each other. They were in their element. Most had already done this more than a half a century ago. Now, here we are in 2025, and it’s time to take to the streets again – to stop and look what’s going down.

In 2023, when my coming-of-age novel Cinnamon Girl about a teenage girl in 1970 was released, I had no idea that in just two years the story would suddenly be more relevant than ever. In the book, the main character’s father is an anti-war activist and an FM radio disc jockey, who uses the airwaves to transmit information relevant to the countercultural: the location of protests and demonstrations, shelters for runaways, and even coded information for fugitives along with some amazing music. It was a lot like the constant stream on my Instagram feed — only the music was better.

A female demonstrator offers a flower to military police on guard at the Pentagon during an anti-Vietnam demonstration

The decade of the 1960s saw political assassinations and the shooting of unarmed college students by the National Guard, peaceful protests and violent riots, bombings of Vietnamese children by the U.S. military and bombings of buildings by leftist radicals — steeped in a stew of hatred among ordinary citizens. In some ways the turmoil of the period reenacted the Civil War with those clinging to the status quo pitted against those demanding change. That turmoil was fueled by a senseless war against people “who don’t look like us” and who could therefore be dehumanized by the American war machine and its media handmaidens.

The protests of the late 1960s and early 70s attracted so many young people because for us, the fight was existential. Old men in their comfortable offices were sending young men, boys even, off to fight a war for reasons that didn’t make sense. A little country on the other side of the world was somehow a threat? How? The domino theory of communism was as leaky as an overflowing diaper and just as full of crap. Young men were coming home in body bags, and those young men were the brothers, lovers and friends of young women.

Then as now, the protests were not monolithic. It wasn’t just about a monstrously stupid war. It was also about the wars right here — the wars against people of color and our indigenous population, against women, and against youth culture in general.

Fred Hampton speaks at a rally in Grant Park, Chicago

In 1970, our military dropped napalm bombs on Vietnamese civilians and soldiers indiscriminately. They got away with it for a long time because those people didn’t look like “White America.” Today men in military gear, their faces hidden, attack another group of people who don’t look like “White America.” Only now they are doing it in our own country. We’ve long been under the illusion that you weren’t supposed to do that. And yet, it’s not really new. One month before New Year’s Day 1970, law enforcement officers murdered Illinois Black Panther Party chairman Fred Hampton in his bed. While it was dangerous to be a white activist in America in the 60s and 70s, it was deadly to be a Black Activist.

Eventually, the Vietnam war ended in ignominy. Youth culture got co-opted by capitalism. Women gained enough equality to keep them busy on the hamster wheel of “having it all.” Black people made gains in many arenas, including academia and various professions, and yet discovered that in some situations (especially those involving law enforcement) their lives still didn’t matter.

In spite of all that, progressives did make gains: the voting age was lowered to 18, the draft ended, universities diversified their course offerings, women could make their own reproductive decisions, Black Americans made economic strides, and eventually gay people won the right to marry each other. Unfortunately, those gains enraged other people, and like busy termites they have steadily chewed away at the underpinnings of progress.

So here we are, watching a regressive Supreme Court and Congress roll back decades of change as the rule of law disintegrates, inequality explodes, and the ethos of tolerance is obliterated from all directions.

In researching and writing my 1970 novel, I came across a few lessons that apply to today:

Violence breeds violence. When violence is being done to you, it takes a mighty will not to fight back. Martin Luther King, Jr., taught his followers to withstand physical and verbal abuse without resorting to violence. He believed when protestors become rioters, they lose the game. On the other hand, the violence that was done to the marchers in Selma, Alabama, ignited a public response that propelled changes in Civil Rights laws.
Lawlessness will turn the public against you. Bombings and bank robberies by radicals in the 1970s turned them into criminals, destroyed their credibility, and gave the government an excuse to lock them up. Today, we can see how the actions of some members of law enforcement are working against them. Our law enforcement system is far from perfect, but up until now most people still believed in things like warrants and due process. The flouting of these norms is not helping their cause.
Foster community. Laugh with each other. Sing and dance with each other. Take care of each other. For every cruelty the other side commits, commit an act of kindness. The Black Panthers became powerful not simply because of their militant wing, but because of programs providing free breakfasts and clothing for children, health care and food pantries for the community, and housing support for those in need.
Keep learning, keep growing, follow your compass. I once asked former member of the Weather Underground Organization Catherine Wilkerson what happened to the leftists and radicals after the Vietnam war ended? She told me they became lawyers, teachers, business owners, founders of non-profits. They continued to work for a better world in quiet but productive ways.
Change is the result of concerted, persistent effort. It’s a long game. Remember the abolitionists, the suffragists, the freedom riders, the Margaret Sangers and Nelson Mandelas of the world. Sacrifices and setbacks are part of the deal. Which is why the next lesson is so important:
Do. Not. Give. Up.

Obviously, these are not rules. A nonviolent French resistance in WWII would have been ineffective, and nobody should obey laws like the Fugitive Slave Act of 1850. But, in general, these precepts can enable people who don’t like the current direction of the country to endure the tribulations to come. A lot of people survived the upheavals of the 1960s and 70s and went on to change the world for the better. That can happen again.