(Rad Thornberry | The City Journal) Bountiful High student John Alley leads a rally Jan. 30, 2026, in front of the school to protest ICE. The kids walked out of their third period class to stage the demonstration.
BOUNTIFUL — It was Friday, Jan. 30, frigid outside but warm inside my U.S. history classroom. I sat comfortably, listening to the familiar cadence of our teacher’s lectures as we learned about the righteous crusade of the American Revolutionaries 250 years ago, the noble fight for women’s suffrage, and the blood-soaked struggle for Civil Rights.
I glanced at the clock, my heart starting to race. There were still 10 minutes left of class, but I stood up. While the class learned of heroes who gave their lives protesting injustices decades before, I walked out of the warm room, out of the school’s front doors, and into the bitter cold. I carried with me a megaphone, a few American flags, and several signs decrying reckless immigration policies and the deaths of two U.S. citizens at the hands of Immigration and Customs Enforcement earlier that month.
Looking ahead as I walked, I felt alone, save for a few news crews and local journalists waiting outside. But behind me followed more than 200 of my like-minded classmates and friends exercising their First Amendment right to stand with me and protest for a better nation.
This act of dissent was not only my right, but my responsibility. To me, not giving my all is a betrayal of what my ancestors — and my dad — were willing to sacrifice for their freedoms. My America is one where you can stand up to defend the promise of tomorrow.
When my pioneer ancestors walked over the beautiful mountains of Utah in 1847 after an arduous months-long trek across the plains, they knew better than anyone what it meant to stand for what you believe in. In a country that boldly professed the principles of religious liberty, my third great grandfather, Parley P. Pratt, was unable to practice his religion without persecution, along with thousands of his fellow Latter-day Saints.
Given the choice between renouncing his God or leaving his entire life behind, Parley chose to follow his faith and stand up in the face of injustice, refusing to compromise his values for convenience. Our state was built by men and women who were hated by their country for holding beliefs and opinions contrary to what was accepted at the time.
The pioneers’ trek of 180 years ago, in their pursuit of religious freedom, followed in the footsteps of their forefathers, the early American patriots who devoted their lives to the cause of liberty.
My sixth great-grandfather, George Haslam, fought as a foot soldier in the Revolutionary War, putting his life on the line to stand with his countrymen in defense of his right to dissent. George survived the war and was able to come home to his family, which cannot be said for far too many of our veterans.
(Courtesy photo) John Harold Alley is the author's father. He died 18 years ago while serving as a pilot in the Air Force.
My father, John Alley, died 18 years ago while serving as a pilot in the Air Force, leaving behind a grieving and pregnant wife. I was never able to meet him. He gave the ultimate sacrifice for our freedoms and exemplified what it means to be a patriot. His headstone reads: “In memory of our God, our religion, and freedom, and our peace, our wives, and our children.”
While they lived centuries apart, Parley, George, and my father all shared those same desires that have united America for 250 years: life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. These fundamental rights have driven American heroism from the likes of George Washington down to schoolteachers on the picket line fighting for better pay.
As we celebrate our semiquincentennial anniversary in soft chairs and air-conditioned homes today, we must not forget that freedom is never more than a generation away from extinction. While we don’t have to declare independence from an imperial world power or walk 2,500 miles across the Plains, we do have to actively exercise our Constitutional rights to preserve and protect our freedoms. Rights that were purchased at the price of blood by our ancestors should not be admired from afar as beautiful virtues that we are fortunate to possess, but actively used, renewed, and defended by each new generation who inherits them.
My ancestors fought a revolution and crossed mountains searching for the freedom to build a better future. My father died in defense of that freedom. I just walked out of a classroom.
Note to readers • This contest was produced by The Salt Lake Tribune, Spy Hop and Amplify Utah. It was supported through a grant from the American Journalism Project.