In the Fight Against Trump and Vance for Free Speech and the Truth, Be Like Mary Lupien
Lupien's viral interruption of JD Vance's speech falsely blaming immigrants for the U.S. housing crisis wasn't just important because it corrected a falsehood; she was defending the fundamental right to challenge power.
What happens when free speech is only free for those in power? JD Vance and the Trump administration claim to champion the First Amendment, but in practice, their version of free speech comes with a condition: It protects those who uphold their agenda and punishes those who challenge it.
This was on full display at the National League of Cities conference when Vance, now vice president, blamed the housing crisis on undocumented immigrants. "You see a very consistent relationship between a massive increase in immigration and a massive increase in housing prices," Vance argued. According to him, the rising cost of housing wasn't due to corporate greed or predatory real estate practices, but to migrants. It was a textbook case of scapegoating—shifting blame onto the powerless to distract from the true culprits.
Enter Mary Lupien, a Rochester, New York city councilmember and mayoral candidate, who wasn't having it. In a moment of raw defiance, she interrupted Vance's speech, cutting through the lies with a simple truth:
Vance and his allies claim to be warriors for free expression, yet their administration is actively working to silence those who challenge their narrative.
"We're competing against corporations, not immigrants. Give us back our funding!"
It was a flash of courage in a political landscape where too many sit silently while bad-faith actors rewrite reality.
Lupien, a progressive leader and longtime advocate for social justice, has represented Rochester's East District on City Council since January 2020. A resident of the Beechwood neighborhood, she has built her career around economic justice, housing rights, and community empowerment. Even those who don't align with her politically cannot deny her commitment, bravery, and willingness to challenge power.
Her advocacy has consistently centered on issues of housing insecurity, systemic inequality, and corporate accountability. And while some might dismiss her tactics as disruptive, history favors those who refuse to stay silent in the face of injustice.
Scapegoating is one of the oldest tricks in the book. Governments throughout history have blamed the most vulnerable groups—immigrants, minorities, the poor—to divert attention from systemic failures. It's a strategy designed to stoke fear, deepen divisions, and deflect accountability.
Vance's rhetoric is a classic example. Instead of addressing the real causes of America's housing crisis—corporate landlords, speculative real estate, stagnant wages, and decades of underinvestment in affordable housing—he chose to point the finger at immigrants.
Lupien's response was a direct rejection of this deceitful narrative. She reminded the room, and the nation, that the real enemies of affordable housing are not desperate families seeking a better life but corporations and policies designed to prioritize profit over people.
JD Vance and the Trump administration love to talk about free speech—until it's used against them. Their version of free speech is selective: It defends those who reinforce their ideology while crushing those who dissent.
Look no further than the arrest of Mahmoud Khalil, a Palestinian activist and legal U.S. resident, who was detained by federal immigration officials after helping lead student protests at Columbia University against the war in Gaza. President Donald Trump called Khalil's apprehension the "first arrest of many" in his administration's crackdown on campus opposition. Though a federal judge has temporarily blocked his deportation, the message was clear: Speak out against power, and you will pay the price.
The hypocrisy is glaring. Vance and his allies claim to be warriors for free expression, yet their administration is actively working to silence those who challenge their narrative. Khalil's arrest wasn't about enforcing immigration laws—it was about punishing dissent.
This is what makes Lupien's defiance so important. She wasn't just correcting a falsehood; she was defending the fundamental right to challenge power. In an era where dissent is increasingly met with retaliation, her voice was an act of resistance.
George Orwell once wrote:
"If liberty means anything at all, it means the right to tell people what they do not want to hear."
Lupien exercised that right—not for personal gain, not for applause, but because someone had to.
There will be those who call Lupien's interruption disrespectful. There will be cynics who claim she was chasing a viral moment to boost her mayoral campaign. But both arguments ignore the stakes.
Trump's agenda isn't just about silencing opposition—it's about annihilating it. His administration has worked tirelessly to discredit institutions, suppress dissent, and consolidate power. Any act of civil disobedience that disrupts this effort—no matter how small—is an essential defense of democracy.
Moments like this come and go in the 24-hour news cycle. In a few days, most people will forget. But the slow erosion of democracy doesn't happen overnight—it happens in the moments when people choose to stay silent instead of speaking out.
Lupien made her choice. Will the rest of us?
