At Seattle’s MLK rally and march, celebration meets Trump resistance

Thousands of people celebrated the life and message of Martin Luther King Jr. in Seattle Monday, with organizers and participants at the 42nd annual march honoring the civil rights leader also using the event to protest the return to power of Donald Trump, who was sworn in as the celebration kicked off at Garfield High School.

“The Trump experience — it’s dividing people, but it’s also bringing people together,” said Eric Sanford, 37, one of dozens of volunteers helping with security along a several mile route that took an estimated 5,000 to 6,000 marchers from Garfield High School to Jimi Hendrix Park near the Mount Baker Tunnel.

While Trump’s inauguration feels like “a slap in the face,” the day’s events, which also included a rally, workshops and a career fair, offered the chance to remember “what the holiday is about and what Martin Luther King himself was about,” said Rodney Sisk, youth program manager at Evergreen Goodwill, who brings students to the event each year.

Still, the incoming administration loomed large at Monday’s celebration of King. 

Facing the prospect of far-reaching immigration crackdowns, attacks on diversity and equity programs, and battles over transgender rights, the Seattle Martin Luther King Jr. Organizing Coalition focused Monday’s events on a theme of “We Rise Against Project 2025,” a blueprint for conservative policies under Trump that was a flashpoint during the 2024 presidential election.

While Trump distanced himself from Project 2025 during his reelection bid, former Trump advisers were involved in crafting the plan and his governing plans overlap with the document in some key ways. 

At the pre-march rally that spilled out of the school’s packed gymnasium, organizers urged action and unity in the face of the despair that many Seattle progressives are feeling over Trump’s inauguration.

While denouncing the incoming administration and conservative policy plans at the national level, speakers and organizers also worked to energize the crowd for local racial justice efforts. 

The mood before and during the march was complicated and divided. Many marchers and organizers seemed especially glad to be out in force both to honor King while also showing their displeasure at the state of American politics. 

“Resistance” was a central theme of the day, said Chelsea Mackey, a volunteer with the Urban League, who was handing out signs with the image of King next to the words, “We Must Persist. We Will Resist.”

Much of that resistance was focused on promises by Trump and other Republicans to curb abortion rights, ban transgender people from the military and dramatically reshape the federal government. 

Speaking before a crowd of hundreds inside the high school’s gym, the Rev. Kelle Brown, senior pastor at Plymouth United Church of Christ, nodded to Trump’s inauguration. As she spoke, a voice from the gym bleachers shouted, “We’re here!” and the crowd erupted in applause.

“We are the ones who refuse to bastardize this day,” Brown said.

That sentiment of celebrate-under-protest was echoed in the crowd, where messages of resistance bloomed across thousands of placards and posters, many of them referencing the incoming president’s conviction for falsifying business records. 

“I’d rather we be out here honoring a King, rather than a felon,” said Veda Wright, who stood outside Garfield with her husband Anthony Perry, waiting for the march to begin.  

The march itself got underway shortly after 1 p.m. Organizers didn’t disclose this year’s route beforehand, for security reasons, but led marchers on a route that took the procession through the neighborhood around Garfield High School, including a stretch along Martin Luther King Jr. Way South. 

Previous editions have finished at the Federal building downtown. 

The rally and march appeared to have come off smoothly. Security was plentiful, with a heavy police presence and dozens of volunteers in cars, on foot and on bikes and motorcycles. Organizers estimated the day’s turnout at 5,000 to 6,000, according to Shaude’ Moore, chair of the Seattle Martin Luther King Jr. Organizing Coalition.

Despite the heaviness of the themes, the march often had a festive air. Raucous music was provided by several bands, including the Anti-Facist Marching Band. 

Marchers spanned all ages, backgrounds and causes, with signs, placards and banners protesting everything from Project 2025 and mass deportations to the war in Gaza and the growing power of billionaire activists. 

“Fight for a world without CEOs,” read one sign. 

Young activists who appeared to be marching for the first time stood shoulder to shoulder with graying activists, including some who expressed frustration at what they saw as setbacks in areas, such as social justice and protesting war, that were central to King’s activism. 

“We thought we had stopped war — and yet here we are,” said Linda Zahava, 79, a Seattle resident who has been marching since the 1960s. 

Monday’s events reflected the mood of a country sharply divided politically and culturally.

While Republicans have spent the weekend celebrating the launch of Trump’s second term, some Seattleites have spent the past several days in protest. On Saturday, hundreds gathered for the People’s March, promising resistance to Trump’s second administration.

Ahead of the march, the day’s events also took a local focus, addressing city surveillance policies, “stay-out” areas and gun violence. Miwa Tokunaga-Griffin volunteered with the Seattle/King County African American Reparations Committee at a booth in a hallway crowded with attendees, offering handouts and collecting signatures in support of a “significant reparations program” to provide direct assistance and benefits to Black Americans. 

Tokunaga-Griffin said working on social justice issues felt more important than ever because “with the current administration, it’s really concerning what is going to happen.”

Focusing on local efforts instead of national politics felt empowering, said James Smith, who was gathering signatures for the reparations idea. “The things that we can do in our city will start the growth of the things that we can do for the whole country.”

Monday’s events also offered practical resources. Andrea Ross headed to the Garfield job fair as she searches for work that will allow her flexibility to spend time with her 3-year-old daughter. 

“Without his dream and his purpose, we wouldn’t have this room,” Ross said, speaking of King. “This is a multicultural room.” 

As the gathering transitioned into the rally, Brown spoke to the crowd, denouncing national proposals to crack down on immigrants, roll back trans rights and unleash “undue force on protesters,” urging the crowd to band together to fight those plans. The room thundered with applause.

Project 2025 is built on “the usual foundation of anti-Blackness,” “hatred of the poor” and other forms of discrimination, Brown said. The proposals, she said, are “oppressive on purpose to make things so uncomfortable so that we will be distracted and not know what’s going on.”

Zeke Cohn stood outside the rally with a sign that said, “Stop Trump, Stop Elon Musk, End Capitalism.”

“It’s a scary time,” Cohn said. “As a trans person, I am thinking about what this administration means for my community. But at the same time, coming to events like this I think there’s a bit of a sense of hope. Because we can’t stop fighting.”

After the march ended, many participants remained at Jimi Hendrix Park, and speeches continued. Several speakers touched on immigrant and transgender rights — groups the speakers said were under threat with the Trump administration.

Jaelynn Scott, the executive director of the Lavender Rights Project, a Black transgender advocacy organization, urged the crowd to remember the importance of coexisting.

“We may not like each other. You ain’t gotta live next to me, but you gotta give me my equality,” Scott said.

The march and rally itself illustrated the challenges that lie before protesters. With so many different causes and issues, and so little confidence in political parties, there was little agreement on the way ahead. 

Quite a few protesters seemed as unhappy with Democrats as with Republicans. “The Democrats are worthless — build a new anti-war party,” urged one sign by the Socialist Alternative.

Yet the day also captured the sense of commitment to taking on such challenges.

That seemed to be the message of marchers including Alice Manos, a 2005 graduate of Garfield at the march with her young daughter, Elke, who had carefully made her own Black Lives Matter sign.

“We need to make this every year,” said Manos, adding that she was motivated by the desire to leave a better world for Elke.

Even Zahava, the veteran activist, despite her discouragement at the turn of political events, was heartened by the enthusiastic turnout Monday. “I have a thousand people who agree with me — thousands and thousands and thousands,” she said, gesturing to the swelling crowd that was preparing to hit the streets. At times like this, Zahava added, “we need a voice. And this is a voice.”