Karen Levine Egee is a retired child psychologist who volunteers with Activate Maine. 

On a bitter morning in early February, I stood on the Sagadahoc Bridge with a crowd of mostly fellow Boomers, protesting ICE and feeling quite discouraged about the state of our country under Donald Trump and the state of humanity, that he has so many supporters.

Then suddenly, young people began streaming onto the bridge — first a few, then dozens, then nearly 400 high school students carrying signs denouncing fascism, cruelty and threats to civil rights. From the height of the bridge, we could see more students pouring down the hill from Morse High School to join us.

We had heard rumors of a student walkout, but seeing it unfold was astonishing. My heart filled. One boy climbed onto the railing, gripping a streetlamp as he waved his sign to passing cars. Forgetting myself, I called up, “Be careful up there!” He grinned back at me. I must have sounded like someone’s worried grandmother.

Several students stopped to talk. Charlie Thelen, one of the group’s founders, explained that they call themselves the Midcoast Youth Activists and organize across six area high schools — Brunswick, Freeport, Mt. Ararat, Lincoln and Greely. One student put it bluntly: “We can’t tolerate so much that is so completely unconstitutional.”

My friends and I were moved nearly to tears by the students’ energy and numbers. I wanted to know more: how had they organized so effectively, and what drove them?

After the rally, I spoke with Charlie and another student leader, Olivia “Liv” Drewniak, along with their youth advisor, Marcy Leger. Charlie said the group began in the early days of Trump’s second term, when executive orders left him reading the news in frustration. Eventually, he said, he “got tired of being powerless and doing nothing.”

With Marcy’s help, he helped form the Sagadahoc Youth Democrats at Morse High School, later renamed the Midcoast Youth Activists to be more inclusive. He reached out to politically engaged friends at other schools, and the group quickly grew to roughly 150–200 members.

Liv said their connections through sports, academics and student organizations helped them build trust quickly. “Having recognizable and trusted names helped generate initial interest,” she explained, “but it’s the shared passion and community that sustained its growth.”

For Liv, activism grew out of watching events accumulate. “When I see the rights, protections and lives of people trying to live authentically being stripped away, it becomes impossible for me to stay silent,” she said. While the school maintains a nonpartisan stance, she noted that values like inclusion, civic engagement and critical thinking align closely with the group’s goals. They welcome thoughtful disagreement, she added, but ignore dismissive attacks.

Charlie credited Marcy with helping the students connect to the broader community through voter registration drives and partnerships with youth advocacy groups. Liv acknowledged that activism can feel vulnerable, especially for students sometimes dismissed as “uneducated kids,” but she finds the work empowering. “Coming together with others our age and seeing real support from the community reminds us we’re not alone,” she said.

Both seniors expect activism to shape their futures. Liv plans to study policy and environmental science, while Charlie hopes to pursue diplomacy. Just as important, they are mentoring younger members to ensure the organization continues beyond their graduation. “From the beginning, we wanted to build something sustainable,” Liv said.

As my friends and I left the bridge that morning, we felt far more hopeful than when we arrived. The students we met were informed, organized and determined — not just protesting the cruelties of the present, but preparing for the future. Listening to them, I felt renewed faith in the goodness of our species, and a new sense of optimism about our country’s future.