Protest, Protest, Protest. The 50501 Movement.
By Daisy Justice – the College Perspective | Texas State Student, Justice-in-Progress
Let’s get one thing straight up front:
I don’t show up to protests for the aesthetic.
I don’t scream in the street for TikTok likes.
And I damn sure don’t wave signs because I think it changes everything.
I do it because it interrupts something.
Because silence, these days, is the rhythm they count on.
Scroll. Swipe. Shrug. Obey.
They don’t need our loyalty—they just need our exhaustion.
But something new is rising.
It’s called 50501.
And on June 14, we’re showing up everywhere.
Why I’m Marching
Because the fine print always burns.
Because my generation is out here working two jobs, dodging debt, and still somehow being told we’re lazy.
Because they’re slashing the programs our grandparents earned.
Because the rights our moms marched for are now bargaining chips in some billionaire’s poker game.
Because my queer friends are scared.
Because my immigrant friends are targeted.
Because my trans siblings are being legislated out of existence while the people doing it smile for donors.
And because every time we call it out, we’re told to calm down.
Be civil. Be quiet. Be realistic.
But guess what? Reality is what we’re trying to fix.
What the Hell Is 50501?
If you haven’t heard, let me catch you up.
50501 is a national movement—50 protests in 50 states with 1 message: hands OFF our rights.
It started as a whisper. Turned into a roar.
And now it’s a coalition of over 150 groups—from Indivisible to labor unions, Planned Parenthood to student networks—saying:
We’re done being polite about the collapse.
Check the numbers yourself if you don’t believe me:
This is not some liberal circle jerk.
It’s veterans. Moms. Students. Workers. Teachers.
Even the guy who voted for Trump twice and finally said, “What the hell happened?”
Texas: We Got Skin in the Game
I go to Texas State University. I’ve watched this state crack and harden, then bloom in defiance.
We’ve got organizers in San Antonio, round-the-clock volunteers in Austin, and whole neighborhoods ready to show up even if they’re scared.
Because here in Texas?
We know what overreach looks like.
We know what suppression feels like.
And we know what resistance means. It’s not just yelling. It’s building—together.
To My Generation: This Is the Line
If you’re Gen Z and reading this, I need you to hear me:
I know you’re tired.
I know it feels fake sometimes.
Like none of this will matter. Like protests are just content now.
Like it’s already over and they’ve already won.
But that’s the script they gave us. And we do not have to read it.
50501 is not about being loud. It’s about being there.
It’s about bodies in public space reminding the people in power:
We are not invisible. We are not programmable. We are still here.
You want a system that works? We have to interrupt the one that doesn’t.
This Is Bigger Than One Man
This ain’t just about Trump.
Yeah, he’s a symptom. A catalyst. A wrecking ball in a red hat.
But what we’re facing is bigger than one dude’s ego.
This is about:
Courts being stacked like rigged poker decks
Laws being passed by people who couldn’t pass a basic ethics test
Billionaires deciding which truth gets aired
Rights that used to be sacred becoming partisan debate points
It’s about the creeping normalization of cruelty, and the silence of those who should’ve known better.
I Don’t Want to Just “Resist.” I Want to Reclaim.
Reclaim the word patriot from the cowards who hide behind it.
Reclaim the flag from those who use it as a weapon.
Reclaim our future from those who traded it for stock gains.
I don’t just want to “fight back.”
I want to build forward.
And yeah, maybe that sounds cheesy. But you know what’s cornier than hope?
Complacency dressed up as cynicism.
You In?
If you’ve ever felt like you didn’t belong in politics—
If you’ve ever rolled your eyes at both parties—
If you’ve ever wondered if your voice mattered—
Then congratulations:
You’re exactly who they’re afraid will wake up.
Don’t sit this one out.
Find your state. Find your city. Find your sign.
Then raise it.
June 14. We show up. Everywhere.
Want in? Start here:
Follow the tag 50501 on TikTok
Meet My Loud-Ass Family
If this post got you fired up, wait till you meet the rest of my people:
Joe Bob Justice — My dad. The Bullshit-O-Meter. No filters. No fear.
Liberty Lane — My aunt. Southern grace, Latina fire, and a porch that heals.
Colonel Ezra Stone (Ret.) — Uncle Ezra. Old-school dignity with a soldier’s spine.
We’re not all alike. But we all show up. And that’s what MATAs most.
— Daisy Justice
Texas State. Gen Z. Still believing. Still fighting.