First of all, yes, I am adding myself to the slew of people discussing their experiences in Washington, D.C. this past weekend, but given that it was the biggest protest in history, I would expect nothing less than too see my Facebook timeline saturated with people’s responses and reflections on the March. So just like I did on Saturday, I will be joining the masses, and I’m not sorry.
“To ALL Americans who are worried about the future: We LOVE you, We STAND with you, and we will FIGHT for you!” and “Dear Trump and DeVos, Keep your hands OFF our public schools! Love, NASTY Teachers Everywhere!”
The line to get in to the Landover Metro Station – but we’re almost there!
The whole experience, start to finish, was beyond words. The people, the weather, the excitement and passion for the cause – it was all so much more than I expected. From the moment we arrived at the metro station in Maryland, I knew that I was in for quite a day: we were at one of the farthest metro stations from the city, but the line still went out the door and down the sidewalk. I heard it was going to be a big event, but even this blew my mind. The car were packed, but were ringing with excitement. It was going to be a great day, and it barely even started yet.
Two of the signs in L’Enfant Metro Station: “Warren 2020” and “A Women’s Place is in the Resistance”
L’Enfant Plaza in Washington, D.C. was a whole different story, packed to the brim with protesters, ready to burst – and burst out in chants – at any moment. “This is what democracy looks like,” “Who run the world? Girls!” and “My body, my choice!” Were all chanted by the thousands of people filling the metro, along with waves of cheering and cheering each other on. And this did not stop when we finally got out to the street, because the passion was still present, it just wasn’t contained in a small, crowded room, but was now taking over the streets of the Capitol.
“SCOTLAND HATES TRUMP”
It took us a while to even get to a place where we could understand what the speakers were saying, because of the echoing and other chanting that was taking place around the corner. I still couldn’t see the speakers (which was nothing new to me, the five-foot-tall wonder), but I heard their words, applauded their ideas, and responded to their passion with a passion of my own.
Me and one of my lovely traveling buddies holding our signs, listening to the speakers.
The speakers were still underway when we headed back to the metro, even though the March was supposed to start over an hour before, so we went to find something to eat.
A small part of the crowd, from the spot we found to watch the speakers in Independence Plaza.
(Side note: L’Enfant Plaza, the largest in the city, had more than half of its vendors closed for one of the biggest days in history, and Subway ran out of bread – I know the day was bigger than the experts imagined, but they could have had the pizza place open or something, right? Well, they didn’t.)
“If you cut off my reproductive choices, can I cut off yours?”
When we came out of the Plaza (because the entrance to that side of the metro was closed – again, a bad day to do that.), the March was taking place, was passing us on the street. We held up signs, we cheered, we watched. It was truly incredible. (Really. If you haven’t seen the aerial shots of the city that day, and other cities around the world, I would definitely suggest doing it.)
About a block of the actual March, as seen from the outside of L’Enfant Plaza.
The metro ride back to Maryland was much quieter and less crowded than the ride there, but you could still feel the excitement in the air, the passion of the people, all thinking, We were there. We did it. We were part of history.
But the adventure wasn’t over. My small group arrived back at the bus around 4:30 for a planned 5:00 departure – a departure that was delayed almost an hour by a group of people who got lost on the metro or in the city.
Sometimes I still have to remind myself that it was real, and that I was part of it, that I was actually there on the second biggest day in Metro history.
“LOVE ALWAYS WINS against hateful, spoiled man-children.”
But it doesn’t stop there. I have not yet decided what my next step is, but I knew there is going to be one, because once you start taking part in changing the world and in being an activist, you never want to stop. And the only way I will ever stop is if there is nothing left to protest. I don’t know about you, but I don’t foresee that happening anytime soon.