Searching for Fiona

Scrolling through conservative media, you’re bound to see her face. People have posted the meme for years as a caricature of the Left. Enraged. Unreasonable. A snowflake too sensitive to other opinions. We don’t know her name, but her continual presence made me start to wonder: Who is she? And what set her off? Who was she talking to, and what was the discussion? It turns out, she was more civil than the meme suggests, and the camera only caught an appearance of anger. And the argument, while controversial, wasn’t without sources. But a political tribe weaponized her image to breed contempt for progressives, having no regard for the person or her words.

In a discussion with a media team from Info Wars, the protestor claimed that a high percentage of women experience rape. The rally in 2016 was a protest against then primary candidate Donald Trump, and the rate she shared was one in three. The stat wasn’t even central to the point she was making, but claiming it was enough to carve her image into internet infamy. The footage of the chat largely vanished when Youtube banned Info Wars content the following year, but the internet continued to post the meme. The world offered her no chance to defend the opinion; only a silence that left us with a stereotype of people left-of-center.

She might have embellished the rate from studies, but sources show similar numbers. It’s possible, for example, that she was aware of interviews on college campuses finding one in five women experiencing sexual assault. Like all political polling, the science for accuracy was controversial. What constitutes assault? How will people answer to phrasing A versus B? Is a question loaded, prompting a specific answer? Experts will argue over the approaches, but it’s possible the number is even higher than one in five, given the pain of such experiences. So saying that it’s one in three wasn’t insane. It may well be wrong, but the jury is still out.

I can’t offer more insights on these studies, but they make me think of the biases people bring to the arguments. Fans of Info Wars might have held a heavy incentive to disbelieve a high percentage. For supporters of Donald Trump—a man already under allegations for mistreating women—such a rate might feel like validation of the accusations. On the protestors’ side though, higher numbers of victims would add weight to public support. If the number was instead more like one in twenty, there would be less incentive for leaders to act. Indeed, the Obama administration may not have investigated campus assaults if not for the one in five stat. Each side has their reasons to not listen, both then and now.

But the full context of the situation that created the meme deserves attention for the protestor’s sake. She believed that 33% of women experience rape. She joined a protest against a presidential candidate suspected of misogyny, only for a team from Info Wars to show up. They were looking for an argument, and their fans were prone to deny the acts she was fighting against. Isn’t it reasonable to understand how someone might become upset? And the camera only captured, at most, a flash of anger in the midst of her measured comments. But it was enough to seal her fate for online viewers scoffing at high rates of sexual assault.

The internet jumped on the chance to forge the meme. The Alex Jones Channel uploaded the video “Trump Supporters Shut Down Protestors”, and within a day, anonymous users on Reddit coined the name “Ficki Fiona”. “Ficki” is German slang for the f-bomb, and the cruel, catchy name labeled her with the stat she had shared. From there, platforms condemned her as TRIGGERED with mocking headlines like “Angry feminist.” And through the years, the legend grew. The image has been cycled and recycled in thumbnails for a decade now. And all of this for a stat that may or may not be accurate.

Ironically, if her image had appeared less online, I wouldn’t have thought about her. I would have passively accepted the message that the Left is crazy, dangerous, or not worth my time. Someone like Fiona brought nothing of value, or so it seemed. Just another psychopath screaming at a Trump event. I would have been one of millions holding a passive contempt for a stranger. Never seeking the source of her feelings. Never asking questions on what brought her to that charged moment. Never appreciating the context that could drive any of us into an argument. I would have just doom scrolled to the next Youtube clip without a thought or care for the person dubbed Fiona.

Conservatives will argue for the need to use such memes to persuade the public of progressive threats. Some would say the image of anger still represents people in our institutions who practice illiberalism. That cancel culture is omnipresent in universities and media, raising intolerance and silencing speech. Using this imagery is a necessary tool then to rally support against suppression. But even if all true, we shouldn’t exploit someone’s picture for political messaging. For all the disagreements we’d have, to be callous with someone’s image for the cause of culture wars is inconsiderate. It raises contempt in the world while making a lifetime of pain and embarrassment for someone else. It’s wrong, and there are other ways of persuasion for your cause.

So wherever Fiona ended up, I hope she is doing okay. I think about the struggles from being a famous, nameless internet meme. Did it interfere with her life? Does it still? Did it hurt her job prospects, or tear apart relationships? Maybe she doesn’t have a care of it at all, or maybe it was a disaster. But in any case, the world owes a recognition of her opinion. An effort to take it seriously, even in disagreement. That is the aim of this blog, with Info Wars and the internet never giving her that chance. It made for a dismissal that none of us should accept. Her face is still everywhere, but her words are almost nowhere.

Leave Us Alone: The Flag We All Can Share

The spirit of the Gadsden flag still resonates today with a recoiling snake hissing at an outside threat. Its caption—Don’t Tread On Me—embodies the reptile’s attitude. An intention to be left alone. To live free of disruption. To defend its peace. In a twist of modern politics, I’ve realized that protestors could have used the symbol to speak against actions of ICE this past year. And ironically, the banner would have shown the Left and Right to have something in common. Liberty would have appeared to inspire both gun right advocates and anti-ICE protestors alike. They have different concerns, but the same attitude. Somehow, the revolutionary spirit of the 18th century found its way to the 21st, regardless of our political tribe.

I referenced the flag’s words in my piece about Operation Metro Surge in January. I have wrestled with what I wrote in the sub-zero degrees of that time. While I don’t take back my objections to the things ICE did, I know that ICE has always had reasonable objectives that deserve respect. And relative to world history, their intrusions were light. If we doubt this, we should remember Iran killing thousands of protestors, and suffocating dictatorships like that of North Korea. So really, ICE was the Diet Coke of oppression. But still, this doesn’t mean that soda is good for us. The presence of ICE was heavy in Minneapolis, and the words “Don’t Tread on Me” struck a chord in me then. It was a reminder of a principle that Americans have clung to for centuries—objecting to an outside force in our lives.

The protestors carrying the Gadsden flag 250 years ago felt a heavier oppression as well. The snake represented a unity of colonists objecting to the infringements of a higher government. They opposed British soldiers marching daily through Boston while residents were forced to shelter the same troops. Imagine if Minneapolis were obliged to shelter ICE agents; it wouldn’t have gone over well.* But for Boston, bayonets stood erect at markets and harbors to execute laws the people didn’t consent to. In effect, England created a police state for citizens an ocean away. Fear and anger filled the streets even more then, and history remembers the violence thereafter.

Comparisons of Boston 1776 to Minneapolis 2026 are shakier still. Minnesota has representation in Washington, so we can’t claim the turmoil of “No taxation without representation.” Also, the Trump administration appeared to concede to political pressure after the death of Alex Pretti. ICE left shortly after – a democratic response Bostonians didn’t enjoy in 1776. But still, we shouldn’t give a pass to ICE and its leaders. The federal government treaded on its populations this past year. From a Blackhawk helicopter hovering a Chicago apartment building, to Californians captured in a retail parking lot, to Minneapolis minorities obliged to carry ID to avoid detention. So it would have been a pleasure to see the Gadsden flag lead the protests against these acts—a message unwavering through two and a half centuries.

But modern politics have made the snake representative of only one political party. When we see the flag today, we don’t think of Boston 1776. Instead, we think of conservative causes like gun rights and protests against Covid lockdowns. This isn’t to criticize the views; indeed, it’s logical to use this flag to show their ideals. The conviction of personal liberty drives people to those views—to defend their homes, and to live as they choose. That is the spirit of the flag, but it’s unfortunate to me that the snake is now so partisan. It is no longer an American symbol; its image only associates with one group. We don’t think of a shared history now, but only the politics that enrage us.

I imagine now what it would be like to hang the flag on my porch. Since I revere its message, it would be fitting to display it. But living in a progressive city, it wouldn’t go well. The snake would be out of place with the “In This House We Believe” signs scattered through the neighborhood. Residents would only recognize the snake from NRA meetings and Stop the Steal rallies, and they would understandably make certain judgments. They wouldn’t see me as supporting neighbors against ICE. Instead, they would see me as an outgoing conservative waving the middle finger to a liberal community. Sadly, the Gadsden flag can’t represent my opinions today. It is now a symbol for the Right, and not for America.

My reverence for the flag also comes from gratitude for a life I never want to take for granted. My family has never known oppression, and a lot happened to make it so. Generations struggled for it, from founding fathers to my grandfather fighting the Battle of the Bulge. As John Adams wrote of his toils, “Oh posterity. You will never know how much it cost us to preserve your freedom. I hope you make a good use of it. If you do not, I shall repent in Heaven that I ever took half the pains to preserve it.” Whatever exists in the world today for liberty was forged through such actions. The autonomy we should cherish shows proudly in the defensive posture of that snake.

This reminds me that for all the issues American cities faced this past year, ICE was still a diet soda. They crossed the line in multiple ways, but they’re not in the realm of conversations about dictatorships. Just think of atrocities from the 20th century—gulags in Russia, mass murders in China, and communism in Cuba. Even in America, liberties haven’t always applied to everyone. So like any police force with worthy goals, we can appreciate the enforcement of immigration laws while objecting when going too far. These thoughts aren’t exclusive, and even though the protestors wouldn’t have waved this flag, the snake represents their passions. In Minneapolis, it could have become a symbol for more than one party, connecting the issues of today to the challenges of the past.

But while the flag never made it our streets, its spirit took a different form. Walking through Minneapolis today, it’s stunning how many homes still show protest signs. From graffiti on bed sheets to handsome printouts, all classes show their objections to ICE. Like the stance of the snake, the signs express a defiance. And a new logo emerged from the chaos: A Minnesota loon fused with the Rebel Alliance symbol from Star Wars. Minnesotans display it now with tattoos and colorful signs. It shares the vibe of Boston in 1776, and it’s the same spirit that drives conservatives to defend the right to protect their homes. So whether it’s ICE patrolling neighborhoods or laws restricting guns, the same message comes from all Americans: Leave us alone.

I would hope then for Americans to celebrate 250 years with a recognition of camaraderie. There is still an urge for freedom in our bones, even as we hate each other over politics. Whether it speaks to us through a snake on a flag or a protest sign, liberty is still something shared between us. Its spirit made its way through the pages of history, and it whispers to us now in different ways. And it will scream within us as future threats come. They always will, and when each of us is treaded on in our own ways, we’ll need a recoiling snake to speak against the coming tides.

*Let us now appreciate the Third Amendment to the Constitution. There has never been a Supreme Court decision on it, and the U.S. has always had resources to shelter its troops. But the guarantee that soldiers cannot be quartered in our homes is a blessing for all Americans. [Back]