At the recent “No Kings” protest, I couldn’t help but notice that one-third to one-half the people who filled the city park had gray hair. Nearly 50 years after the rallies against the Vietnam war, those of us who had gathered on campuses to yell “hey, hey LBJ, how many kids did you kill today” were now holding signs that said “Royal Flush, Dump Trump” and “I want a president not a king.”  Some of the younger people had obscene signs like the ones we used to hold in our young hands: “One two three four, we don’t want your fucking war” and “Make love not war.” But in our advanced age, our signs are less angry. We’ve calmed down and don’t feel the anger as much as the sorrow that the world has gotten to where it is.

Our generation was honed on some idealism: inspired by John F. Kennedy, Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King; Jr., and then devastated by their assassinations. We fought for women’s and minorities’ rights. I think some of us still carry that idealism in our hearts, only to see it threatened in front of our eyes.

Can we model that decency and idealism for younger generations? For the “No Kings” protest, residents of the largest senior facility in town, some in wheelchairs and using walkers, stood by the highway with signs denouncing the actions of a president who has arrogantly cut government agencies and workers, and now threatens to cut aid to seniors, the poor and disabled.  No wonder there are so many older people out there—we want to protect Medicaid, Medicare and Social Security.

But it’s more than just looking out for our own interests. At one protest last week deploring the administration’s cruel and random seizing of immigrants, it was mostly older women that lined the street with signs. Do women have more empathy, feel more the pain of immigrants being torn from their families? This is not to say that men aren’t part of these protests, but their numbers are fewer.

We seniors know that the world wasn’t always like this, where a president gets away with disobeying the laws we’ve lived with since our country was born. Even in the darkest days of the Nixon administration, we trusted that eventually truth and honor would rule. And it did. But I don’t feel that way anymore, and I’m guessing that a lot of people would agree.

I think many older people feel a responsibility to younger generations, even if we don’t have children. After all, looking at the world now, we can see how lucky we were to grow up and live in a time of plenty, where houses, cars and food were cheap, and jobs were plentiful. Our water and air were mostly clean, wildlife thrived in still open lands, and we hadn’t yet heard of climate change. We grew up in a world where community existed, whether through church, neighbors or workplace, and in a time before social media took over people’s lives.  

I like to think that if democracy can be saved, it will be by old women (and some men) bravely holding signs and shouting, “This is what democracy looks like,” even if our voices are hoarse, our legs wobbly and our backs stooped. Our hearts are still strong.