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Julie Bolejack is a 72-year-old activist, entrepreneur, and lifelong creative with a passion for empowering diversity, equity and inclusion, championing human and animal rights, and exploring the intersections of business, advocacy, and personal growth. With a master’s degree in business and decades of experience in project management, she now dedicates her time to helping people embrace new chapters in life. She’s a wellness enthusiast, and advocate for meaningful change – Julie is always learning, laughing, and elevating.
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We are witnessing a full-throttle campaign of delegitimization being waged against anyone who dares to resist the presidency of Donald Trump and the Republicans backing him. Make no mistake: this is not about a policy disagreement. It’s not even merely about vehement critique. What we are seeing is the systematic branding of us — those who oppose the Trump agenda, who question his motives, who reject his authoritarian impulses — as un-American, dangerous, and illegitimate. That is the message. And the message is being blasted out constantly.
We are being called communists. We are being called traitors. We are being painted as some sort of fifth-column, unpatriotic mob. They have the gall to say we “hate America,” even though our love for this country is precisely what drives us to resist this administration. We believe America must live up to its ideals: equality under law, freedom of speech, accountability, protection of the vulnerable, a democracy of, by, and for the people. But the Trump-Republican machine wants us portrayed as the enemy of all that. That’s not a coincidence. It’s a strategy: delegitimize the opposition so the power grab can proceed unchecked.
Let’s catalogue a few of the lies and the hateful rhetoric being hurled at us:
- We hear it again and again: “If you criticize the President, you hate America.” The insinuation is clear: dissent = betrayal. That’s a direct assault on the principle that civic engagement, protest, and questioning authority are hallmarks of American democracy.
- We are smeared as “socialists” or “communists,” as though opposing corruption, cronyism, authoritarianism and naked self-enrichment were equivalent to embracing a one-party communist dictatorship. That slander is not about accuracy—it’s about scare tactics.
- We are described as “radical leftists” who aim to dismantle everything good in America. We’re accused of wanting to erase the Constitution, bash the military, and tear down the flag. None of that is true; and yet the rhetoric is repeated so widely and so loudly that harmless citizens begin to doubt whether they’re the crazy ones.
- We’re told we’re supporting “illegal immigrants,” “open borders,” “lawlessness,” and that we don’t care about American jobs or American children. In reality we oppose policies that exploit vulnerability, we value civil rights, and we believe a truly just economy and immigration system protects the weak rather than weaponizing them.
- We’re characterized as haters of the police, haters of the military, haters of “good Americans.” Meanwhile, the people doing the smearing are shielded behind law enforcement memorabilia, “patriotic” flags and MAGA hats. The inversion is glaring: they claim to be the defenders of “law and order” while undermining constitutional order by delegitimizing dissent.
- We are painted as conspiracy-theorists, “deep state” warriors, professional protesters, paid provocateurs—anything other than engaged citizens exercising our rights. The goal: make us seem bizarre, extreme, disconnected from “real America.” So the speech becomes: “If you’re not with us, you’re the other.”
- We are told we’re ushering in chaos, anarchy, the downfall of civilization. Because if you can frame your critics as society-destroying agents, then any crackdown—any authoritarian move—can be justified as “defending” the republic. And that is profoundly dangerous.
And dangerous it is. Because delegitimization doesn’t stay in the realm of language. It seeps into public institutions, into law enforcement behavior, into media coverage, into the culture of intimidation. When you tell half a country that their fellow citizens are “unpatriotic” or “traitors,” you invite harassment, you invite suppression of free speech, you invite erosion of democratic norms.
Yes: we’ve been called traitors, called enemies of America. People think that it’s hyperbole—but no. Look at how people speak about us on cable networks, on social media, in campaign rallies: the tone is toxic, the suggestions are ugly. “Lock them up.” “Silence them.” “They are a danger.” That language matters. Truth matters. Because a democracy cannot function when people are afraid to speak, afraid to dissent, afraid that the very foundations of their rights will be attacked.
What we are seeing is this: an unstoppable-looking Republican juggernaut, allied with Trump, that cannot win on substantive policy alone. So it resorts to delegitimization. It says: “We are the real America. You aren’t. You hate America. You are the un-American force.” If we accept that framing—or are too tired or frightened to push back—then we lose not only the battle of ideas but the very idea of political legitimacy.
Because resistance isn’t optional. When leaders treat criticism as a threat, when dissent is portrayed as subversion, when openness, plurality and contestation are portrayed as “betrayal,” we are no longer living in a healthy republic. And that is what’s at stake. Our institutions — judiciary, press, civil society, elections — depend not just on majority rule but on respect for the rights and legitimacy of opposition. When those rights are denied or tarnished, majority rule easily slides into majoritarian tyranny.
So I say this: we do love America. We do stand for America. But we also stand for the America that keeps its promises: the America that defends civil liberties, that respects dissent, that protects minorities, that demands transparency and accountability of power. We resist not because we hate America, but because we love America—and because we believe love demands vigilance.
And to the leaders of the revolt against democratic norms — to Trump and his Republican cohorts — make no mistake: you may smear us, but you cannot silence us. You may brand us “communists,” “hating America,” but you cannot erase our presence, our votes, our voices. There will come a day when we will be heard. There will come a day when your delegitimization campaign will be exposed for what it is: a desperate effort to maintain power rather than serve the people.
The danger is real. When a democratic system allows one side to define legitimacy and then criminalize dissent, it ceases to be democracy. It becomes authoritarianism in slow motion. We must refuse to accept that. We must say: No, dissent is not betrayal. Questioning power is not treason. Democracy is alive only when it allows all voices, including the unpopular, to be heard safely.
And we will be heard. We will demand accountability, we will demand fairness, we will demand our rights. We will show up, vote, speak out, organize, build coalitions. We will refuse to accept the false narrative that “if you don’t support Trump you hate America.” That lie is being spat at us constantly—and we must spit it back.
So let’s call it out: The delegitimization campaign is unacceptable. The smears—“communists,” “un-American,” “traitors,” “radical left”—they must be named for what they are: a propaganda strategy to keep power, not a reasoned critique of policy. We must tell our friends, our neighbors, our fellow citizens: whatever side you’re on, this is not just about left vs. right. It is about whether dissent is legitimate in America.
If you believe that dissent is a bedrock of democracy. If you believe that criticizing the powerful is neither un-American nor extremist. If you believe this country’s promise includes both justice and freedom. Then you are not alone. Stand with us. Resist the smear campaign. Challenge the delegitimizers. Protect our right to question. Protect our right to dissent. Because that right is not just for “them” — it’s for all of us. And if we lose it, we lose the America we love.
Julie Bolejack, MBA -
Last night, I had the absolute pleasure of taking my Beyoncé-superfan granddaughter to the symphony at the Hilbert Circle Theatre. And let me tell you — when you combine Queen Bey’s fire with Beethoven’s thunder, it’s not just a concert… it’s a spiritual realignment.
The moment the orchestra struck the first notes of Halo arranged like a symphony, I glanced over at her wide-eyed face and thought, “Yes — this is how we pass the torch.” One generation grew up with Beethoven’s grand crescendos; the next, with Beyoncé’s unapologetic anthems. But last night, they shared the same stage — and somehow, it all made perfect sense.
Beethoven demanded that we feel; Beyoncé insists that we own those feelings. He composed through silence; she performs through noise. Together, they remind us that emotion — raw, defiant, glorious — transcends time, race, and rhythm.
It was pure joy.
The kind that doesn’t just fill your ears — it reboots your soul.
So today, I’m declaring it: Music Therapy Day.
Find an artist who makes your heart pulse faster.
Beethoven or Beyoncé, Billie Holiday or Bad Bunny — doesn’t matter.
Blast it in your kitchen, in your car, in your heart.
Because whether it’s a symphony or a bass drop, music is how we remember who we are and why we still dance.
Julie Bolejack, MBA
Website: juliebolejack.com
Shop: mindfulactivist.etsy.com
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A friend of mine recently wrote a post that struck a nerve. She argued that sharing politically charged sound bites, shorts, and reels only creates division, misunderstanding, and hatred. In her view, people who post political opinions on social media are not changing anyone’s mind; they’re just making “noise.” She suggested that instead of posting, people should meet quietly over coffee, write letters to government leaders, pray, or simply spend more time looking into the eyes of their neighbors and listening.
It was a heartfelt plea, and I understand where it comes from. We are all exhausted by the shouting match that sometimes takes over our feeds. We all crave peace and civility. But here’s where I have to push back: to dismiss political expression on social media as “noise” is to miss the point entirely.
My response:
“I hear what you’re saying, but I think dismissing political posts as “noise” actually misses the point of why people share them in the first place. Social media is the new public square. For centuries, people gathered in town halls, churches, and marketplaces to debate ideas and raise their voices. Today, those spaces have shifted online. To suggest that we should all be quiet until we can have a coffee with every single person who disagrees with us is simply unrealistic—and honestly, it privileges silence over activism. Silence never created change. Noise did.
You say these posts rarely change minds. Maybe not instantly, but history shows that repetition and visibility do shift culture. Civil rights, women’s suffrage, marriage equality—all moved forward because enough people kept making “noise” until it became impossible to ignore. Activists didn’t politely whisper their grievances to power. They marched. They sang. They shouted. They filled the streets. And in our era, those streets include Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, and X.
Even if posts only reach those who already agree, that’s not wasted energy. That’s solidarity. That’s courage reinforced. That’s community built. When someone posts about injustice, it reminds others they’re not alone in their outrage, not isolated in their grief, not powerless in their resistance. Social movements thrive not because one post flips an opponent into a believer, but because millions of voices refusing to shut up create momentum that no government, corporation, or entrenched power can fully suppress.
Letters to government leaders? Great. Prayers? Fine. Conversations over coffee? Of course, if they can be had in good faith. But those things don’t trend, amplify, or put pressure on power structures the way mass visibility does. Social media isn’t the only tool for change, but it’s one of the most powerful. That’s exactly why authoritarian leaders around the world work so hard to control or censor it. They know that voices online can gather and galvanize at a scale no single coffee shop conversation ever could.
I also want to address the accusation of “simple mindedness.” That one stings, not just for me but for everyone who has ever risked speaking out. There’s nothing simple minded about taking a public stand on issues that matter—whether that’s racial justice, reproductive rights, climate change, or democracy itself. What looks like a loud rant to you might be, for someone else, the only way they can protest, the only way they can be heard, the only way they can demand dignity.
You say you are shocked and saddened by what friends are posting. But consider this: maybe they are shocked and saddened too—by injustice, cruelty, and corruption—and their posts are how they cope, how they resist, how they push back. Their volume is not ignorance. It’s grief turned into action. It’s the modern version of standing in the street with a sign that says, “This is not okay.”
We don’t get to unity by lowering our voices to a polite whisper. Unity comes from wrestling with hard truths, even when it’s messy, even when it’s uncomfortable, even when it’s noisy. Social media may not always be elegant, but it democratizes expression. It gives a microphone to the teacher, the nurse, the student, the retiree—voices that might never get a column in a newspaper or a podium on a stage.
So no, I will not be silenced. I will keep speaking out online, not because I think every post will magically convert someone who disagrees, but because silence has never been an option for those who want justice. Silence keeps the comfortable comfortable and the oppressed invisible. Noise, for all its imperfections, rattles the walls.
And if the walls need rattling, then let them rattle.
Julie Bolejack, MBA
JulieBolejack 