Reflections on the Hands Off! Nashville Rally
When we arrived at Centennial Park, the area seemed completely deserted. To be fair, we were early—it was 11:15, and the rally was scheduled to begin at noon. The sky was overcast, and the weather forecast predicted intermittent rain throughout the day.
It wasn't difficult to find street parking; we parked a few spaces behind a pickup truck filled with people engaged in a lively conversation. Through the window, I noticed one of the girls animatedly bobbing her head up and down, her ponytail dancing with each nod.
It didn’t take long for the “fun” of sitting in the car to wear off. We got out and started looking for the least flooded bit of yard to cross. The truck party unloaded as well with plastic-wrapped cardboard in hand, confirming we were in the right place.
Crossing the soggy grass, we made our way to pop-up tents set up in front of the outdoor theater. One of the volunteers informed us, disappointingly, that the tents were not connected to the Hands Off! Nashville rally but were part of a fundraising event for connective tissue disease. The volunteer I spoke with gave me his best guess as to which direction I should head, provided a brochure about the fundraiser, and sent me on my way.
Soon, we spotted a group of protesters gathered at a sidewalk intersection. Hoping they had more information, I introduced myself—only to discover they were equally unsure. Together, we headed toward the Parthenon, drawn by a bright posterboard in the distance that we assumed belonged to fellow protesters. As we approached the building's edge, another group of protesters arrived from the pond side of the park. We all exchanged hellos and learned that no one knew the exact location of the rally meet-up.
A woman in a tie-dyed T-shirt mentioned receiving a text message saying the event had been canceled due to inclement weather. A tall, elderly gentleman in a fishing cap suggested it was an effort by Republican opposition to undermine the rally.
I want to pause here and say that there were Republicans at the rally in Nashville. Republicans felt like they weren't being represented appropriately in the news or by their party in the government right now. It was one of those moments where you could really see the division in our country that was being created by being entirely too general. However, we can't communicate effectively without generalizations. We must be able to communicate with one another without having to put qualifiers around every statement we make. Still, right now, especially with things the way they are, I think this might be the only way we can effectively communicate with one another- with qualifiers. This moment was not one to get into that kind of conversation because it was said as a throwaway comment, so we all just shrugged and acknowledged that the gentleman had spoken, but we did not engage, choosing not to add fuel to the rhetoric.
Amidst the confusion, a charismatic leader emerged among us—a spirited woman. I regret not asking for her name.
She had an infectious energy and managed to rally us into a makeshift parade. Together, we walked along the sidewalk until we eventually found the larger crowd, which turned out to be the actual rally.
Mud-covered shoes didn’t dampen anyone’s spirits. Signs were held high as we assembled in a semicircle at a small amphitheater near the park’s entrance. I wandered around, snapping photos of protesters and their signs.
Many people stopped to share their stories with me. One woman stood out—she carried a posterboard with a picture of her daughter and willingly shared her story. Her daughter suffers from a neurological disease affecting her motor and cognitive functions, rendering her unable to live independently. Despite being a joyful person, the woman expressed fear and uncertainty about her daughter's future, especially if government assistance were withdrawn. It was a powerful testament to how policies profoundly affect individual lives.
As I was taking photos, I met two veterans, Harvey and Jim.
They run a podcast called Veterans for Peace Radio Hour. You can listen to them on Spotify here.
Despite the somber undertones that brought people together, the atmosphere was warm and communal. One organizer encouraged everyone to introduce themselves to those standing nearby. Fear and uncertainty can make us all feel isolated, and it was nice to have this moment to look to your left or right and say, "Hey, neighbor.”
Most people smiled instinctively when I asked to take their photos, even though they felt conflicted about showing joy, given the reason for the gathering. But, engaging with others face-to-face was uplifting for many, providing relief from the constant barrage of social media and news.
Later, word spread that the original organizers had indeed canceled the event due to inclement weather. Still, the people proved resilient—over 2,000 people filtered in and out of Centennial Park throughout the day, carrying their signs and open hearts.
As I walked up the path toward my car, women in pastel dresses took Easter photos in a tulip patch against a backdrop of picket signs. A busker sang a freedom song.
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View all images from the Hands Off! Nashville Rally here:
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