Three Days After the March
No hate, no fear — everyone is welcome here!
The Women’s March on Washington was exactly as I had hoped. From women in wheelchairs being pushed by younger women to preschool-aged children, female and male alike, on their mothers’ shoulders, we chanted as we stood, chanted as we marched. We were all skin colors and one.
Jianna with her protest sign, which read, “Promote Peace.”
We stormed D.C. with love. Even though over 500,000 females and male allies were in attendance, not a single act of violence took place. Marchers yelled Curb! and Divot! so that everyone stayed safe. Marchers walked up to my daughter, Jianna, and said, “Beautiful sign!” Two or three took photos of her with it. One dusted her with glitter afterward. In fact, the only aggression that took place was in the form of Boo! and finger flipping in front of Trump’s International Hotel. D.C. opened up her churches and businesses to Marchers — Get warm! Use the bathroom! Have some cookies and lemonade!
Our bodies, our choice!
We were a pink army in pussyhat uniform. Pussyhats sewn with love. Sewn at houses across the country and mailed, sewn on planes to the march, sewn in stations while awaiting trains to D.C. Pussyhats symbolizing as many causes as their were yarn shades and hat designs.
(A special thank you to my student and friend, Jennifer Stockton, for making the three pictured above, which not only served us well symbolically but also kept our ears warm!)
Black lives matter!
After the March, Jianna and I walked to the Split This Rock Poetry of Resistance Open Mic, and a black male in his late teens was behind us on the sidewalk. At first, I didn’t realize that he was speaking to us. Then, I heard him say, This is the closest we’ve ever been. Because we all hate Trump! I gave my protest sign a little shake and agreed.
We abhor the polarization that Trump’s win has made apparent — the progress toward valuing people of all races, ethnicities, and religions that we thought was being made, that, in many cases, has not manifested. Hopefully, the inclusive Women’s March, not just in D.C. but internationally, has helped Americans who are black, Mexican (legal and undocumented), Muslim, LGBTQ+, and other groups much more vulnerable than white women such as myself, as well as women across the world, to feel less alone, frightened, and hated, and to understand that we won’t tolerate ideological backslide or related practices of discrimination.
What does democracy look like?
The Women’s March re-energized us. It gave us hope for the first time since that fateful date, 11/9.
At the Split This Rock event, for the first time ever, I heard co-founder and Director Sarah Browning utter the words, “Poetry is not enough.” She said that we must be on our telephones with representatives daily and take other actions to make our voices heard.
The March was only the beginning. For the follow up, please see the Women’s March on Washington, “10 Actions, 100 Days”: https://www.womensmarch.com/100/And if time and spirit permit, please do more — as good global citizens. Why? Because:
This is what democracy looks like!