OREM, UTAH — On Sunday morning, Utah Valley University became ground zero for what historians are already calling the “Great Polyester Uprising of 2025.” Thousands of students gathered in front of the campus where conservative activist Charlie Kirk was assassinated earlier this month, donning bright white T-shirts emblazoned with bold black letters: “WE ARE CHARLIE KIRK.”
The sea of cotton, polyester, and patriotism stretched across the quad, resembling a political flash mob fused with a mass baptism. Observers say the demonstration was “equal parts solemn vigil, college pep rally, and multi-level marketing recruitment event.”
The shirts, hastily printed at a local Orem screen-printing shop called Threads of Liberty, sold out within 24 hours. According to the shop’s owner, they had to repurpose leftover “Mitt Romney 2012” merch and print over it.
“It’s what Charlie would have wanted,” said sophomore engineering student Brad “Eagleheart” Johnson, proudly flexing his Kirk shirt. “Bold fonts, patriotic vibes, and zero tolerance for liberal professors who assign books.”
Witnesses say the crowd chanted slogans ranging from “Freedom Isn’t Free!” to “No Kirk, No Peace!” while a group of ROTC cadets carried a 50-foot cardboard cutout of Kirk’s face to the steps of the library.
“Charlie gave his neck so we could keep ours upright,” shouted student body president Madison Cole through a megaphone, sparking thunderous applause. “And today, we honor him not with silence, but with bulk orders from CustomInk.com.”
The crowd responded by holding up their smartphones, screens glowing with Turning Point USA memes. Some students wept openly, not from grief but reportedly from the fumes of permanent marker used to personalize their shirts with hashtags like #KirkStrong and #NeckOfSteel.
The event wasn’t without star power. Conservative celebrities dropped in via livestream, projected onto the university’s outdoor screen. Megyn Kelly praised the students’ “commitment to cotton-based activism.” Kid Rock performed an acoustic rendition of “Only God Knows Why” while sitting on a Harley parked in his living room.
But the biggest surprise came when Elon Musk tweeted, “These kids are braver than the Apollo astronauts,” and announced Tesla would soon roll out a We Are Charlie Kirk limited-edition Cybertruck decal. Within minutes, resale value for the shirts skyrocketed on eBay, with one fetching $4,999 after being “lightly sweat-stained by an Orem sophomore.”
Not everyone on campus was thrilled. Several professors attempted to resume normal Sunday classes, only to be drowned out by chants of “Build the Wall—Around the English Department!”
One sociology professor, who asked to remain anonymous, lamented, “This is what happens when you assign To Kill a Mockingbird instead of Kirk’s Twitter feed. They think T-shirts are policy.”
Another faculty member reportedly tried to pass through the rally wearing a plain gray sweater, but students quickly surrounded him, yelling, “Say his name!” until he reluctantly put on a free shirt handed out by a TPUSA volunteer.
Of course, no modern movement is complete without merchandise. Pop-up vendors dotted the quad, hawking everything from Kirk-branded hydro flasks to “Charlies for Life” bumper stickers. One enterprising student sold limited-edition “Kirk Crocs” featuring tiny American flag charms, which instantly sold out.
By the end of the day, the bookstore reported record-breaking revenue, surpassing even their 2019 haul from Frozen 2 backpacks.
Predictably, critics pounced on the rally. One progressive student group attempted a counter-protest, showing up in “We Are Not Charlie Kirk” shirts. Their message, however, was drowned out when they accidentally gathered next to the marching band, which launched into an off-key version of God Bless America at quadruple volume.
Democratic leaders called the display “a troubling example of hero worship,” while conservative outlets dubbed it “the greatest student-led demonstration since the Boston Tea Party, but with more Monster Energy drinks.”
As the sun began to set, Erika Kirk, Charlie’s widow, appeared on stage with tears in her eyes and a megaphone in hand. “Charlie loved three things,” she said, her voice trembling. “God, America, and really tight-fitting polos. Today, you’ve honored all three.”
The crowd erupted, thousands lifting their shirts skyward like holy relics. Some students even vowed never to wash their Kirk tees again, promising instead to frame them above their dorm beds “next to the shotgun rack.”
Organizers of the rally announced they will petition to make “We Are Charlie Kirk” an official Utah Valley University course, complete with credit hours, weekly T-shirt wearing, and a final exam consisting entirely of Instagram captions.
There’s also talk of expanding the movement nationwide, with plans for a “Shirts Across America” tour. Early drafts suggest students will march from campus to campus, carrying laundry baskets of fresh Kirk tees, stopping only at Chick-fil-A drive-thrus for nourishment.
By nightfall, the quad was littered with discarded Gatorade bottles, empty Chick-fil-A wrappers, and the faint echo of “U-S-A! U-S-A!” But to the faithful, the message was clear: their generation has chosen its cotton-clad champion.
“Some people think we’re just kids in T-shirts,” said one tearful freshman, clutching his Kirk garment to his chest. “But these shirts are our armor. And when history looks back, it won’t see polyester. It’ll see patriots.”
And with that, the crowd dispersed—leaving behind a campus that smelled faintly of Axe body spray, melted mozzarella sticks, and history being made, one bulk-ordered T-shirt at a time.
