Nearly four thousand people gathered in the frigid chill of a Seattle morning for the 2025 Martin Luther King Jr. March and Rally. They came, as they have for the last 42 years, to remember, to demand, to insist upon their right to hope. But this year, the march struck a searing juxtaposition with events unfolding 2,700 miles away in the nation’s capital. by Marcus Harrison Green Photos by Patty Tang Nearly four thousand people gathered in the frigid chill of a Seattle morning for the 2025 Martin Luther King Jr. March and Rally. They came, as they have for the last 42 years, to remember, to demand, to insist upon their right to hope. But this year, the march struck a searing juxtaposition with events unfolding 2,700 miles away in the nation’s capital.  In Washington D.C, Donald Trump stood before the world once more, mouth full of lies, a demagogue returned to power by a nation still unable—or unwilling—to reckon with itself. Within hours, the familiar machinery of cravenness was back in motion: Insurrectionists welcomed home as heroes, rolling back transgender rights, and rescinding Diversity Equity, and Inclusion measures at the federal level. All this on the same day meant to honor a man who gave his life for the vision that we might, one day, be better than this. Patty Tang Here in Seattle, on a balmy January day, people came—Black, brown, white, queer, trans, immigrant, and native—to bear empathetic witness to each other, to find, if not hope, then at least endurance. Some marched because they could not accept that a man people roundly rejected four years ago could return to power. Others came because, while there may be a ceasefire in Gaza, we are still complicit in the ruins that remain. Others came for a fleeting inoculation from what is sure to be four years of horror directed at our trans and immigrant communities. And others came to find a community, recognizing that alone, rage will exhaust us too soon. Bearing this marathon of madness will require a gentleness many have forgotten, a humility few embrace, an acknowledgment of each other’s pain, and a grappling with contradictions inextricably linked to the human condition. Patty Tang This is America, in all its contradictions: one crowd marching for justice, and another cheering its undoing. Yet, both are authentically this nation. Both testify to a deep truth: We are a country captive to profound and unrelenting trauma. Whether we will heal or die from it will not be decided by one election or one man but by our willingness to stand together, with and for each other, in a way that refuses to accept the suffering of any community as the cost of survival. It is not hatred alone that will destroy us, but the quiet, creeping acceptance of it as normal. Here are some voices from the MLK Day March speaking to that fact.  Some statements have been lightly edited for clarity. Patty Tang Chris Lovings, organizer with Seattle Alliance Against Racist and Political Repression  During this time, we need each other. So the fact that there are thousands marching for a common cause, to stand against what's happening is really valuable. But also moving forward, we're going to have to collaborate together as a community. Another reason I'm here is I'm a part of an organization that's focused on community control of the police. Something we have to do with a federal administration that is going to be fighting against so many rights, at a time when so many people need help. What gives me hope is all the people that are here today, and all the community organizing that is going on. Advocating together is the only way that we’re going to get the world that should be, rather than the world that we have right now. Patty Tang Cliff Cawthon, community organizer I'm out here today because I am deeply frustrated, angry, and ashamed because of where we're at as a country, right now. I’m feeling the need to be in solidarity and at least do something, rather than just sit there and be furious. There are a lot of vulnerable people at risk: Black and brown people, gay and trans people, and women around this country. We need to take action. That Trump is being inaugurated today is a slap in the face to everything King stood for.  Trump is the epitome of white privilege. He’s someone who has denigrated everyone who has not historically been privileged in this country and even denigrated his own voters to their face. And yet, at the same time, there are people in this country who could not stand to vote for a black woman who had a plan. I saw her flaws, believe me, but Trump's presidency really is a slap in the face to all the people who have fought for me and for my wife, and for my friends to be able to stand here, educated, free, with a real chance in life. Patty Tang Monica Mendoza-Castrejon, community organizer What's happening today with the inauguration is an absolute disgrace but I carry forth Dr. King's vision, and I'm here because I want to keep on fighting for and dreaming of that vision, and for everything that he stood for, and everyone that he was fighting with. I'm here because I don't want that dream to end. The Executive Orders Trump’s planning are scary. But I’m not just worried for myself. I'm a queer Chicana who was born to formerly undocumented Mexican farm worker parents, and I'm worried about my family. However, I still have faith that we're going to triumph, even though we're afraid. I don't think he's smart enough, and I don't think the people that he's around are smart enough to carry forward everything he wants to do. But we are smart enough, we are strong enough and we are brave enough to carry forward what we want to do.  Even if the government doesn't have us, we have us. We the people have each other. I have seen a rise in mutual aid. I've seen a rise in collective action that is going to carry us forward. It’s not going to be electing some different head of state, or celebrity icon. No, I see blossoming collective action, and I know that's going to keep us safe, whatever this government does or doesn’t do.  Patty Tang Deuante Damper, LGBTQIA+ advocate  Honestly, today I really wasn't thinking about the country. I was thinking about Seattle as a whole community. So the question to all of us here is, what are we going to do with that legacy? Are we going to keep it going? Are we going to keep on organizing? Are we going to prioritize? Are we going to be inclusive? And above all else,  are we going to love one another?  I don't want to be laser-focused on what's happening in the [Trump] administration, because regardless of whoever was going to be in office, we still would have to fight. We still would have to look at policies and figure out how they were impacting the most marginalized. I grew up never feeling safe. It's always been a fight for me as a Black, gay man. At the end of the day, racism has always been blatant and in our face. Now it's in office. Misogyny has always been in our face. Now it's in office. So the question is what are we doing right here to continue to prioritize Black women, and queer community members — especially trans community members, who have really been under attack.   Who's supporting this bullshit? There's a lot of community members that have been supporting that, and I mean locally, so it's time to start holding their fucking feet to the fire too. Patty Tang Dionne Foster, community member Like many people today, I’m also in distress. For me, being in community is healing. I had this moment this morning where I was looking at my phone and it says, Trump is pulling us out of the Paris climate accords. I thought, well, I can stay here and look at this and be feeling these emotions by myself, or I can come out and be with this community here. That felt like the antidote. Just being alone isn't what I need at this moment. And even being here for the last little bit, running into people and seeing their brilliance, seeing all the connections. It was recharging. Today is an indicator of Seattle. I've seen so many people from different backgrounds, and even seeing people today with signs that said, “Today we rise against Project 2025.” To me, it's saying that our community here is coming together to stand against the potential harms that we're going to face from the federal government and that cities and communities are more important now than ever.  It's going to be a very long road. Honestly. I think many folks are rightfully deeply concerned about the second Trump administration, and deeply concerned about the potential impacts of it being long-lasting. That means our commitment to each other, our commitment to policy change, and our commitment to doing what we can at the state or local level also has to be stronger and long-lasting. Patty Tang Patty Fong, CID resident My mother was an immigrant from Hong Kong. I'm upset with the idea of mass deportations. I don't believe the Trump administration when they say they're going to arrest only people who are here because they've committed a crime. I think a lot of innocent people will get caught up in the net.  I don't like Tom Homan, Trump’s immigration czar. I think he's a very cruel man. He's not against deporting entire families, and now Trump wants to deny birthright citizenship to children who are born to parents who don't have legal immigration status. So, I really decry the cruel direction that this country is taking.  Locally, I live in the CID. It's an economically oppressed neighborhood that’s politically powerless. We're rising up to say, don't treat us as a dumping ground anymore. Stop being racist. Someday, I envision a gateway down Jackson Street, connecting the Central District, Chinatown, and Pioneer Square, right down to the waterfront.  I'd like to see all of us united as a city, so we can celebrate the multicultural and multiethnic diversity of Seattle. That's what I'm fighting for. But I’m just one person.  Patty Tang Ann Okwuwolu, community organizer It Takes a Village  I’m here to talk to people—no matter their skin color, community, or age—because I want to know how prepared we are for emergencies. One day, something might happen, and I want to make sure we're ready. I have an organization called 'It Takes a Village: AMSA Edition,' and my goal is to eventually secure funding to build a hub. This hub will have everything people need when disaster strikes—no matter what kind of emergency it is. But I don’t want it to be just for emergencies. I want the hub to be an everyday resource, something so ingrained in our lives that when something happens, people will know exactly where to go. They'll say, 'Let me get to the hub!' It will have food, showers, sleeping areas, and resources for youth, kids, and older adults. It will be accessible to everyone, with charging stations and more. That’s why I’m out here talking to people—asking, 'What do you need in an emergency?' When disaster hits, we’re all in our individual homes at first, but then we come together. Some have kids, some have pets, others have allergies or special needs. We often get so focused on our own daily lives that when an emergency happens, we realize all the things we didn’t think about. My goal is to help us prepare for those 'what if' moments—so we don’t face unnecessary challenges when they come. How ready can we be? That’s what I want to find out. Patty Tang Joy Pearl, 16, Mercer Island BSU president, immigrated from Uganda I was here today because I needed to be reminded about what Martin Luther King fought for, especially because today is when Trump is getting inaugurated. And I felt like that was wrong in some way, that it was today. I wanted to be here to be reminded of our values, of what the people before us vote for.  Seeing everyone here today gives me hope, especially knowing that people are still supporting the Free Palestine movement even after the ceasefire. It reassures me that our generation has hope for the future. Paul Benz, Street Minister Operation Nightwatch In moments like this, we must carefully examine history—how it rhymes and repeats. Right now, with statements coming from Trump and those behind Project 2025, including pastors and members of the New Apostolic Reformation, we need to look to our own history and call out the modern-day Reich for what it is. That’s exactly what we’re facing. To those who claim Trump is the Messiah or that he’s been called by God, I challenge them with a crucial biblical principle: Trump has never repented for his actions. Not once. In fact, many pastors have opposed him—and continue to do so. I am one of them. Jesus said, “Whatever you do unto the least of these, you do to me.” If I claim to love my neighbors—especially those who are poor and suffering—yet do nothing to help them while supporting a man like Trump, then I am a liar. This conversation connects directly to Matthew 25, where Christ speaks about identifying with “the least” among us—asking, “When I was in prison, did you visit me? When I was hungry, did you feed me? When I was naked, did you clothe me?” Our responsibility is not to pity or indulge a savior complex but to ask: What is causing their oppression? Who is benefiting from it? We must speak out, take action to improve their lives, change unjust laws, and physically stand with them against harm. Liz Shriver, ninth straight year attending My wife and I came out today. We've come almost every year since we moved here nine years ago from Philadelphia.  We definitely wanted to be out today because of the bizarre intersection of Inauguration Day. But I think it just means we have to show up even more. What a great opportunity to show up in our own communities and completely disregard the nasty human who has found his way into that job that he will have for a limited time, yeah, before he goes to prison. Today is really a feeling of longevity like we have to keep showing up year after year after year after year. It's not something we could do once and then set it down. So I think it gives that feeling, not only of hope and excitement for the future, but of a sustained fight. Andra Kranzler, facilitator for discussions on the African American Reparations Committee This space gives us an opportunity to have meaningful conversations with one another. We come together as a community—intersectional and intergenerational—where we can share our thoughts, concerns, and ideas for solutions.  I believe that if we had already done the work of healing, we wouldn’t be experiencing a so-called "peaceful transition of power" of what is, in reality, a coup. But in moving forward, I believe the first step is to truly listen to one another. Right now, we have the resources to address much of the pain and suffering around us. It’s not just a moral issue; it's also a critical and practical one. People need to read, analyze what they’re reading, and seek the truth. Our leaders must be committed to truth and facts, but ultimately, it comes down to us—how we choose to spend our time and where we choose to show up. I'm incredibly grateful for this space because I’ve seen so many of my community members show up. It reminds me that I’m not alone in imagining a more just world. I've been told that as a Black person, I can’t afford to be hopeless—I have to be hopeful. Patty Tang