No Kings, No Clowns: Why I Marched in New Orleans

A few weeks back, I joined the “No Kings Day” protest in New Orleans. Not for beads or Bourbon Street, but to stand with a wildly diverse crowd—Black, white, Latino, queer, straight, young, old—all united by one simple truth: we’re tired of crowns on conmen.

It was safe, passionate, and full of people who might disagree on plenty, but share the same enemy: a government captured by self-serving blowhards like Trump and local puppets in the Louisiana Freedom Caucus. They keep peddling culture wars while our hospitals close and our kids’ futures shrink.

Meanwhile, Trump’s somewhere pouting over tiny parade crowds—like his ego needs our tax dollars to feel big. Sorry, we don’t do kings here. And we sure don’t crown clowns.

So yeah, I was proud to march. We’ve got real work to do. And if it means locking arms with folks I never thought I’d march beside? Even better. Because at the end of the day, we’ve got the same fight—and the same right to a government that works for us, not the other way around.