On June 14, 2024, Gabriel Duncan, founder of the Alameda Native History Project, delivered a speech at the Alameda No Kings Rally that challenged white progressives’ role in Gatekeeping, and Kingmaking.

But if we think “No Kings” only means no Trump, we’re missing something deeper.
Kings don’t always wear crowns.
Sometimes they wear progressive credentials.
Sometimes they come wrapped in good intentions.
Sometimes they’re lifted up—not because they earned it,
but because people would rather believe a lie than sit with discomfort.

In a pointed speech, Gabriel Duncan made the difference between performative allies, and Accomplices clear:

You say you want to be allies.
But performative allies want credit.
Accomplices show up when it’s risky, when no one’s watching.

If you need to be thanked or centered or safe,
you’re not in solidarity. You’re just performing.

He went on to draw the distinction between white allies who have the privilege to join the struggle, and BIPOC people who are forced to live it every day:

You weren’t born into this fight,
but you can choose to join it.
Not to be centered—but to be useful.

And then he went on to introduce the performance of a song called “Ain’t Nobody Gon’ Turn Us ‘Round”: a 1964 Civil Rights Era, Black Spiritual and Protest Song, written and sung by Black People in jails and churches, while Black People were facing police brutality, high pressure water hoses, police dogs, and police brutality, just for a crumb–for human rights.

This song was performed by “Paul Andrews [an old white man] and the Democracy Out Loud Band [a group of white singers enlisted days before the event]”, who would be singing this song at an even where no black voices were heard.

That was incorrect, Nika Kura, who sang in the beginning of the program, identifies as Black. And–after I had called out the organizers and Paul Andrews–a black mother and educator, named Katherine Castro (who you can hear saying “I’m trying!” in the recording), took the stage and spoke, and counted how many black people were even present in the audience.

We’re proud to have made this space for black voices–because it was the right thing to do. And we hope that this moment becomes a teachable moment for the organizers of this event, and our allies.

A Note About Paul Andrews, The Old White Man Who Grossly Appropriated A Black Civil Rights Song About Segregation:

We’re deeply disappointed that Paul Andrews thought it was appropriate to sing a Black Spiritual even though he is not black, and the song is about segregation. We’re even more disappointed that Paul Andrews attempted to defend his choice–and even go so far as to try and claim “Ain’t Nobody Gon’ Turn Us ‘Round” was not a Black Song; even though he himself admitted the song was created by Black People. It’s 2025, and this type of misappropriation of BIPOC identity, culture, and struggle is not not welcome in these spaces anymore.

We plan to interview the main organizer of this rally, Tina Davis, a volunteer with Indivisible. So stay tuned for that. We’ll also be releasing our interview with Mary Claire, of All Rise Alameda, soon.

If “No Kings” means anything,
it has to mean the end of white progressives deciding
who gets heard and who gets erased.

For the record: between 3,000 and 4,700 people were in attendance at the Alameda No Kings Rally on June 14, 2025.

This is the complete speech:

Text of the speech:

NO KINGS – 3-Minute Rally Speech (Condensed Version)
“How the Pressure Is Working”
Gabriel Duncan

We came here today because we know what’s wrong.
Because we see injustice. Because we feel the weight of it.
No one should have the power to strip rights, silence truth, or rule unchecked.

That’s why we say: No Kings.

But if we think “No Kings” only means no Trump, we’re missing something deeper.

Kings don’t always wear crowns.
Sometimes they wear progressive credentials.
Sometimes they come wrapped in good intentions.
Sometimes they’re lifted up
not because they earned it,
but because people would rather believe a lie
than sit with discomfort.

That’s not justice. That’s curation.
That’s not solidarity. That’s theater.

Real change comes from those who risk something.
And lately, more people are risking more
breaking ranks, refusing comfort.
That’s how we know: the pressure is working.

For too long, white progressives have been kingmakers.
Choosing voices that made them feel good.
Even when those voices weren’t real.
That wasn’t solidarity. That was projection. That was control.

Crowning someone because they’re convenient
is how white supremacy adapts.
It cloaks itself in “progress,” selects leaders who keep critique shallow and power safe.

The danger of performative allyship isn’t just that it’s fake
it’s that it props up lies that do real harm.
Harm to truth. Harm to movements. Harm to us.

If “No Kings” means anything,
it has to mean the end of white progressives deciding
who gets heard and who gets erased.

You say you want to be allies.
But performative allies want credit.
Accomplices show up when it’s risky, when no one’s watching.

If you need to be thanked or centered or safe,
you’re not in solidarity. You’re just performing.
You can’t say “No Kings” while defending the figureheads you crowned
just because they made you feel progressive.

Being an accomplice means you put yourself in the way
of ICE, of cops, of injustice
and say:
“You’ll have to go through me first.”

That’s what pressure looks like.
Truth without applause. Risk without reward.

You weren’t born into this fight,
but you can choose to join it.
Not to be centered—but to be useful.

So when we scream NO KINGS
don’t just cheer. Don’t just post.
Live it.

Say it with your whole chest.
Say it in every space where your voice still carries more weight than ours.

No Kings.
No Gatekeepers.
No Masters.
TOTAL LIBERATION.