Photos by John Caplinger for The Stranger

On a gentle January morning, against the backdrop of civil rights being dismantled in plain sight across the country, thousands gathered at Garfield High School, refusing silence in a nation increasingly estranged from its own conscience. The city’s 43rd Annual Martin Luther King Jr. Celebration followed its familiar rhythm: workshops in the auditorium, a rally inside the Garfield gymnasium, then a march spilling into the streets. But nothing about this year felt ceremonial. Not the moment we’re living inside, nor the theme guiding the day.

Where do we go from here?

Dr. King asked that question in the final year of his life, as the nation recoiled from its own civil rights gains and recommitted itself to war, repression, and inequality. Today, the echo of that question hits with the force of a national indictment: in 2026, one year after Donald Trump’s second inauguration—held, grotesquely, on King’s holiday—civil rights enforcement has been hollowed out, voting rights sit under open assault, and diversity itself is framed as a threat. Trans people are targeted with cruelty masquerading as policy. In Minneapolis, communities live under the shadow of federal occupation with ICE raids normalized, dissent branded as insurrection, and militarization treated as governance. History is not merely being revised; it is being weaponized.

In response, people chose presence over retreat at Garfield.

They came carrying children and clipboards, grief and resolve. They came for workshops that asked not only what is broken, but what must be built. They came for the rally with its songs, testimony, honoring community leaders, and for the reminder that courage is often quiet and collective. They came to the opportunity fair because survival, in moments like this, is not individual. And they marched—not because marching is enough, but because isolation is fatal.

Inside the gym and along the route, no single message dominated. Calls for Palestinian liberation stood beside demands for strong unions. Affirmations that trans Black lives are not negotiable moved alongside appeals for healthcare, housing, peace, and dignity. The convergence was not tidy, but it was honest. If authoritarianism depends on fragmentation, then this kind of gathering—imperfect and plural—is its natural enemy.

What this day made clear is that Martin Luther King Jr. is not honored by comfort. He is honored by continuity. By the refusal to believe that progress moves in one direction, or that rights sustain themselves. King was not only a dreamer; he was a disruptor who was most dangerous to power when he named racism, militarism, and materialism as inseparable forces.

The question, Where do we go from here?, does not map the road ahead, but it does require us to walk it together.

What follows are voices from those already in motion, through education, organizing, and the increasingly radical act of standing together in a time designed to pull us apart.

Some statements have been lightly edited for clarity.

Jamil Suleman, filmmaker and community organizer

I think one of the most important things we can do is get people together. When we’re in person, rather than stuck in the oppositional social media silos we usually operate in, and we’re actually with each other in community, that’s when some of the most positive things can happen, right?

It really comes down to organizing and protecting our community members, and having that unity we’ve always known is there. But to really see it, you have to show up. You have to be in person with everybody else. And that’s what these events help do.

That’s the legacy of Martin and everyone from that era—from the Panthers on. It was always about getting people together, getting people on the same page, mobilized and organized. That’s why there’s such a big turnout today. There’s a lot going on in the world and a lot going on in this country, and we need to show that we have the unity to stand by the principles we truly believe in.

There are organizations and people who have been doing this work for a very long time, and what we need to do is support them. We don’t have to recreate the wheel. On the hyper-local level, there are mutual aid organizations that already exist and have been helping people get what they need. We need to show up for them, learn more about them, join them, and support them in any way we can.

Aaron Dixon, co-founder and Captain of the Seattle chapter of the Black Panther Party

Well, it reminds us that we always have to keep fighting for justice and fighting for human rights—not just civil rights, but human rights. And it reminds us that we are in a state of fascism under Trump, just as we were, in part, under Richard Nixon.

I don’t think a lot of people realize that when Martin Luther King was murdered, it didn’t just lead to an explosion of people joining the Black Panther Party. It also led young people of all ethnic backgrounds to join organizations and fight for change: fight for radical change in America. King’s death was a turning point.

And there’s something else people often don’t realize: it also led to the death of little Bobby Hutton, the first person to join the Black Panther Party and the first member to be killed.

So Martin Luther King plays an important role in modern history, not just for Black people, but for America as a whole. He also came out against the war in Vietnam, which I believe contributed to the decision to assassinate him.

He’s someone we will always remember and always uplift, because he played such a critical role. And today, right now, we are living under fascism. We could use his leadership more than ever. But at the very least, we still have his memory and his legacy, and that’s something we can use to move forward, and to confront the forces of fascism we’re facing today.

Tony Benton, proprietor of Columbia City Theater and Rainier Avenue Radio 

For someone like me, it means remembering that when I woke up this morning, I didn’t have to worry about dogs being sicced on me. I didn’t have to worry about fire hoses being turned on me. I didn’t have to worry about being beaten. That comfort, under these circumstances, really reinvigorated me.

It also reminds me how important it is to make sure this message continues to resonate as we move further away from Dr. King’s time, how we connect people to what it meant then, and why it still matters today. The conveniences we have now are things people worked hard for, things people were willing to die for, so that we could enjoy them today.

And then there’s just the beauty of the day itself: being around people at the career fair, everyone smiling, everyone happy, everyone being gracious, thoughtful, and empathetic. It’s really an amazing thing to be a part of.

Abdi Mohamed, community organizer

We should commemorate this day every year. As an African immigrant, we are riding on the back of Dr. King. Whatever rights we enjoy today, every part of our lives in this country is connected to the struggles he fought for. And we can’t just let that go. We have to celebrate it, we have to be part of it, and that’s why I’m here today.

For me, Dr. King’s legacy shouldn’t be something that only lives in libraries or in books. It should be part of our daily lives. We have a responsibility to educate the current generation and the generations coming after us.

And you know, Dr. King wasn’t someone who just talked and sat on a couch. He was a mover and a shaker—a community organizer, a freedom fighter. We may never be able to fully walk in his shoes, but we have to try to place ourselves there. We keep his legacy alive by teaching what he fought for, what he stood for, and by living it every day

Alex Hudson

I think in some ways it’s a touchpoint back to history, a reminder of the length and longevity of the struggle for racial justice, and for undoing white supremacy and anti-Black violence in this country. And in one sense, that’s comforting. It reminds us that this is a struggle we didn’t have to invent. That the language, the tactics, the ways of opposing these forces already exist.

But in other ways, it’s incredibly disheartening to realize that we’re still talking about the same things 50, 60, 70 years later, right? I find his speeches deeply inspiring and motivating. And as a white person, it’s also deeply sad to me that white people continue to carry this violent, destructive virus of white supremacy in our culture, and to see the pain and suffering it causes to other people, to other souls.

So I’d say: read. Read a book. Read the news. Talk to other people. Get out there. I hate to sound like a self-help quote or whatever, but go touch grass. Talk to people. Think about what it would actually mean to live in a truly just world, and then figure out how to move toward that with the people you know. Every day.

It’s simple, and it’s big, and it all adds up.

KL Shannon, community organizer 

I think Dr. King’s legacy is really about what he embodied: nonviolence, peace, and fearlessness. And when I think about the pressure that was placed on him, it’s overwhelming. When Dr. King was assassinated, and they did the autopsy, they said he was only 39 years old, but his heart looked like that of a 67-year-old man. That tells you the kind of stress he was carrying.

And when he came out and spoke against the war, everything shifted. People turned on him. So for me, his legacy is about embodying that courage—speaking your truth even when you’re scared, even when it makes you unpopular.

That’s what I so deeply appreciate about Dr. King. He stood by his principles no matter what people said. He stayed committed to nonviolence. He stayed committed to peace. And that, truly is what his legacy is.

Katie Wilson, Mayor of Seattle 

I think Dr. King’s legacy reminds us, especially in this moment, that it’s the responsibility of all of us to stand up for both civil rights and human rights, and to continue the struggle for racial and economic justice. It’s a moment to reflect on how far we’ve come because we have made real progress, much of it rooted in Dr. King’s work, and at the same time to reckon with how far we still have to go.

Bana Abera, organizer 

I would say that not much has changed since the days when Dr. King was marching, resisting, and being arrested. So much of what he spoke about is still painfully relevant to what we’re experiencing now. If we’re truly going to honor his legacy, if we’re going to remember him and say his name, then we have to continue the fight. The struggle isn’t over. The dream he carried, the vision of freedom and equality for all people, of ending exploitation and violence against Black people and against all people. The job is not done.

Girmay Zahilay, King County Executive

His legacy means we’ve got to keep fighting. That’s what it means to me. Right now, so many people’s civil rights and human rights are being eroded, assaulted, and attacked in ways I haven’t seen in my lifetime. I know others have witnessed moments like this before, but for us, this level of explicit attack on civil and human rights feels unprecedented.

And that means we have to come together and recommit ourselves to the struggle, to change, and to fighting for one another. Everybody has a role to play in that. You don’t have to be an elected official. You don’t have to be a professional advocate. But everyone has a role in creating the change we need.

Greg Ramirez, Deputy Director SEIU6

I think it’s not just about any one day. It’s about continuing to stay active and continuing to fight for whatever struggles are in front of us, right? From a labor union perspective, of course we focus on workers’ rights but the reality is, all of these issues are interconnected. Workers’ rights, human rights, immigrant justice, all of it goes hand in hand.

Dr. King gets quoted a lot, and people like to cherry-pick what he said. But ultimately, what he was really talking about was human dignity. And that transcends everything—race, labor, all of it.

For us, it’s about continuing to show up, continuing to do the work, and trying to leave this world a little better than we found it.

Mary Puttmann-Kostecka and Matt Kostecka, medical doctor and public school educator, respectively

Mary: I think one of the best ways forward is to let go of the idea that you have to do everything, all the time. Instead, find ways to get to know your neighbors and really know your community. It’s easy now, with so much of our lives online, to lose touch with the people who live right next to us or just down the street. And when that happens, it becomes harder to understand what people around you are actually needing, wanting, or thinking.

So I’d say start there. Try something new. Show up in small, meaningful ways, and don’t feel like you have to do everything.

Matt: Sometimes we fall into a very simple archetype of who Martin Luther King was and what he stood for. My kids and I were actually listening to the Mountaintop speech on the way down here, and what really struck me was that the work wasn’t over.

By 1964 and 1965, Dr. King had shifted much more toward advocating for poor people and leading the Poor People’s Campaign. And like one of the speakers said today, if Dr. King were alive now, he’d be in Minneapolis. He’d be marching alongside the protesters there.

His work wasn’t just about equal rights under the law. It was about true freedom, real opportunity in this country, things that go beyond what happened in 1964 and 1965. And I think what I’d want educators, and parents, to teach their kids about the continuation of his work is this: first and foremost, the work isn’t done.

But it also doesn’t always have to look as grand as passing civil rights legislation or marching on Washington. It can be as simple as supporting union labor. It can be as simple as taking care of your community: cleaning it up, showing up, and doing the work right where you are.

Havika Fleming

For me, it really means coming together with people—people of all kinds, with similar beliefs and different beliefs, from different backgrounds, involved in different fights and movements, and choosing to move in solidarity and in love. Truly.

And I think we do that in Seattle by staying open and accepting people for who they are and where they come from. We try to make sure equity and equality are present and accessible to everyone, whether someone’s been here for twenty years or just arrived. We do what we can to show up for everybody.