Lessons from the Civil Rights Movement

Aside from the righteousness of its cause, one of the lessons we can take from the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s is how carefully planned, disciplined, and visually powerful its protests were.  These were never spontaneous eruptions—they were thoughtfully and meaningfully orchestrated actions, aimed not only at resisting injustice but also at opening and ultimately winning over the hearts and minds of the broader public. 

Today, as movements like the No Kings and anti-I.C.E. protests challenge systemic oppression, it’s certainly worth revisiting how the Civil Rights Movement captured public empathy and pressured lawmakers.  Without serving right-wing media outlets the kind of inflammatory footage they love to spin hot-to-go.

An image of the "No Kings" protest in Portsmouth, OH. on June 14, 2025, where ~400 people showed up and peacefully exercised their first amendment rights.

Listen, we know Fox News and Newsmax and your worst uncle posting on Truth Social aren’t interested in nuance.  They’re not going to show hours of peaceful protesters getting tear gassed by cops in riot gear or families being torn apart by I.C.E. agents.  They’re going to air a 12-second clip of someone in full bloc regalia smashing a window with a skateboard and use it to paint all leftists as violent, dangerous, and directionless. 

This is in no way meant to shame or dismiss the real rage people feel.  It’s valid. It’s righteous.  But it’s also worth asking—what gets results?  What builds coalitions?  What makes ordinary people watching from their living rooms wake up and say, “That could be me.  That could be my kid, my neighbor, my friend.” 

During the Montgomery Bus Boycott, movement leaders knew this.  Rosa Parks wasn’t the first black woman arrested for refusing to give up her seat but she was the one organizers knew would connect with the public: a middle-aged seamstress with a quiet dignity, already respected in her community.  It wasn’t about erasing the others, it was always about strategy.  They needed people to see themselves in her. 

In the Birmingham Campaign, children marched.  They were sprayed with fire hoses and attacked by police dogs.  The country watched in horror.  Those images couldn’t be spun as violent provocation.  They were the plain brutality of white supremacy exposed.  A small window into what people of color were enduring in their day to day lives. 

Even Martin Luther King Jr., who is often sanitized by history, was intentional with optics.  He and his allies held training sessions to prepare for nonviolent resistance.  They didn’t expect people to inherently know how to react under pressure—they practiced, coached, and supported one another. 

Compare these examples to protests these days.  How often do we see activist groups offer prep sessions?  How often are newcomers welcomed, coached, or even given full context of what they are being asked to demonstrate for?  A lot of folks do care deeply and want to participate but don’t know where to start—or they show up, get scared off by chaos, and never return. 

So how can we build something more effective without losing steam? 

1. Organize Before Marching.  Start with meetings, in-person or even over Zoom.  Set expectations, share history, discuss messaging.  Think about what story your protest tells the people watching.  Personally, I love an “Eat the Rich” patch on a battle jacket but as a protest sign, that is only effective messaging to those around you—Susan seeing that on a sign while driving home from the grocery store isn’t going to understand.  You’re scaring and confusing Susan.  You need Susans on your side. 

2. Make Optics Part of the Strategy.  It’s not just about looking peaceful, it’s about controlling the narrative.  If you’re protesting family separation, ask parents to speak.  If it’s about trans rights, center trans voices.  Make room as well for people who can speak to empathy—teachers, nurses, veterans. 

3. Channel Anger Constructively.  Anger is valid and has a place—but it can be directed constructively.  Create groups within protests to help de-escalate tension, redirect energy, and care for each other on the ground.  If someone passionate can be actively participating by doing community care, that is far more productive than throwing a brick at a small business in the area. 

4. Lower the Barrier to Entry.  Most people don’t jump into organizing overnight, give them small ways to help—share petitions and links, invite them to paint, design, or assemble signs, ask them to hand out water.  Normalize being a beginner. 

5. Appeal to Shared Humanity.  Some folks simply won’t care about an issue until they are directly affected.  It’s sad but true.  Our job is to help them realize that the loss of rights is dangerous for all of us.  If you’re white, talk to other white people and try to help them relate.  If you’re cis and straight, speak to your peers that may not realize exactly what’s at stake. 

6. Use Local History.  As I’ve mentioned in a previous article, Appalachia has a rich legacy of labor and resistance.  The Battle of Blair Mountain in West Virginia was the largest labor uprising in U.S. history and helped establish safer and more fair working conditions.  The Harlan County Wars were bloody fights for miners’ rights.  We’ve always had people here fighting for our rights.  We just have to remind people. 

At the end of the day, it isn’t about being perfect, it’s about intention and effectiveness.  We are up against a system that wants us to look disorganized, dangerous, and divided—we must prove them wrong.  Meet.  Plan.  Take care of each other. 

If you’re looking to get involved locally, start by following groups in your area on social media to stay informed and up to date on events in near you.  Volunteer, listen, ask questions—everyone starts somewhere.