We asked young US students what activism looks like in the Trump era

The phrase “freedom of speech” has recieved lots of airtime in the American zeitgeist in recent weeks. After comedian Jimmy Kimmel had his show temporarily suspended by ABC over a joke concerning the killing of conservative activist Charlie Kirk, fans, celebrities and politicians on both sides of the aisle expressed disapproval at the network's decision, and Americans were left wondering what protections, if any, the First Amendment still had under the current presidential administration. 

In the end, the cause for outrage was short-lived; after an outpouring of criticism, Jimmy Kimmel Live! was reinstated in a matter of days. Though the Kimmel debacle resolved itself with warp speed urgency, the fiasco unearthed a question many Americans are now contending with: what does political criticism look like in Trump’s America?

As the 2025 to 2026 school year began last month, nowhere has this question been more prevalent than on college campuses. Unlike in Kimmel’s case, the political crises happening on campuses have not been neatly tied up in under a month’s time. Rather, an opposite scenario has unfolded – one that has snowballed into a nightmare for academic institutions and students across the country. At Columbia University, for example, over 70 students were suspended or expelled for their participation in protests. And, at Tufts University, a Turkish doctoral student was held in an immigration detention centre for six weeks after publishing an opinion piece in her student newspaper that criticised her university’s response to the war in Gaza. So, where does this leave US students who want to participate in activism?

Issues like the ongoing genocide in Gaza, the slashing of DEI programmes, and attacks on trans rights have galvanised students across the country. But free speech debates and campus protests are nothing new in the US. In 1964, the Free Speech Movement was born at UC Berkeley, where restrictions on political activity on campus were eventually overturned after students organised sweeping rallies and protests. And, from the Vietnam War to the Civil Rights Movement, student-led protests have long been a driving force behind real policy change in the country’s history.

Recently, however, the relationship between the government, academic institutions, and students has become increasingly fraught, and the future of campus organising remains a question mark. In Texas, for example, lawmakers, to an extent in response to last year’s pro-Palestine protests, recently passed “The Campus Protection Act”, a Senate bill that forbids camping, wearing masks during protests and nighttime protesting. And, aside from government legislation, universities themselves have updated their policies, which is unsurprising given the Trump administration's increased scrutiny. Columbia University, for example, famously lost $400m in federal funding over the administration's allegations of antisemitism, while the University of Pennsylvania had $175m in federal funding frozen because of the university’s policies allowing transgender women to compete in women’s sports.  

The political climate is very tense all the time. I think right now, people are very scared to do much, especially post-encampment era. It's kind of difficult to do our activism when they're creating policies every year to just further inhibit different kinds of activism.

At the individual level, though, many students seem more determined to take part in activism than ever. When asked if the crackdown on free speech could actually cause a renewed wave of social justice participation amongst young people, Syracuse University law professor emeritus William Banks says, “I think there are some signs that that's been happening already.”

“Time will tell, but I think there's a good deal of grassroots mobilisation going on, at least in some parts of the United States and on some campuses,” adds Banks. “I think that's a good thing.”

While the risks of engaging in campus activism can range from disciplinary action to deportation threats, the young Americans we spoke to are still finding ways to make their voices heard, despite the risks. One of those Americans is Tasnim Seif, a student at Rutgers University. 

“The political climate is very tense all the time,” says Seif of her campus. “I think right now, people are very scared to do much, especially post-encampment era. It's kind of difficult to do our activism when they're creating policies every year to just further inhibit different kinds of activism.”

Seif is the advocacy head of her university’s Muslim Public Relations Council, which recently held a vigil for Palestine. “A big thing that we try to push is that existence is resistance,” says Seif. “We showed up with our vigil right away to remind the administration and the student body that hey, we're still here. There are still injustices happening around the world, and we're still here to push our message. Even if you want to silence our protests, we'll hold our vigils, we'll hold our remembrance.”

For students like Devon Cutri, a University of Cincinnati senior, silence is not an option. “Right now, the idea of ‘silence as compliance’ is so true today more than ever,” the 21-year-old says. “The second that people stop becoming shocked and stop talking about what's going on is the second it starts to get normalised.” 

Cutri was one of hundreds of students who protested the University of Cincinnati’s rollback of diversity, equity and inclusion programmes earlier this year. In February, the university’s president sent out a letter notifying the student body that, as a result of Trump’s executive order to cut diversity programming or risk losing federal funding, the university would be eliminating DEI resources. 

Students at the February protests were also against Ohio’s Senate Bill 1, which ultimately passed. The Ohio legislation, which Cutri dubs “basically the Higher Education Destruction Act”, was the reason for UC removing its four identity centres, including the Women’s Center, the LGBTQ Center, the African American Cultural & Resource Center, and the Ethnic Programs and Services space, this June. 

Despite her university’s gutting of these resources, Cutri, who is president of UC’s Ohio Student Association chapter, stays engaged and committed to resistance. “A lot of [my] peers and people that I hold close to me – we’ll organise, we’ll join an organisation or we’ll go to protest, but we're also talking about it constantly,” says Cutri. “We're holding our administration accountable, too. We call representatives. We've gone to the State House a few times. We show up.” 

A lot of [my] peers and people that I hold close to me – we’ll organise, we’ll join an organisation or we’ll go to protest, but we're also talking about it constantly. We're holding our administration accountable, too. We call representatives. We've gone to the State House a few times. We show up.

Student journalists are also taking action. Gregorio Olivares Gutierrez, for example, is the editor-in-chief of The Retrograde, an independent student newspaper at the University of Texas-Dallas. Olivares Gutierrez and his staff are one of the student organisations that, in conjunction with The Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression, are suing the University of Texas system to block the new state law designed to limit campus protests. 

“By simply doing journalism, we have been resisting. By talking about it, by putting a spotlight on these things, we are able to ensure that it gets addressed, that people are talking about it, that they're aware of it,” says Olivares Gutierrez, who also noted the dangers of not speaking out. “Even if nothing gets done, they can't pretend that it's not an issue – because people are talking about it. When you don't talk about issues, when you don't allow people to express themselves, it just allows it to fester. It allows it to continue to be an issue for future students.”

Josslyn Glore, a trans woman and fashion design major at the University of Cincinnati, became more involved in campus activism after her school, in an attempt to comply with new Ohio legislation that requires students to use bathrooms aligned with their assigned sex at birth, added the word “biological” to bathroom signs across campus. While the university eventually removed those signs, it was another example of how the current administration's attacks on the trans community are directly affecting young people. “I do my part every day just by literally going to the restroom, and the fact that that can even be [considered] defiance is crazy,” says Glore.

For students like her, standing up for themselves and their community is an act of resistance. “It’s just what I have to do,” Glore explains when asked how she remains passionate about engaging in activism despite the current circumstances. “As someone who is very outwardly trans, I'm not able to hide myself. And if I were, I still wouldn't, because I love who I am. I love being in the LGBT community, I love being queer, and I want other people to see that. I don't want to dull myself down and hide myself, because what if I inspire someone else to stand up and speak out for themselves?”

Though rights that were once a given now stand to be tested, young Americans are clearly committed to preserving them. Resistance, advocacy and activism have always been a part of the American experience, and, if college campuses are any indication, will continue to be. 

“Americans know that we have a unique society in that our views may be freely expressed,” says Syracuse’s Professor Banks. “That’s what makes our country different, and has always made us different – and I think students certainly know that.”