There will be many articles about the size, importance, and, problems associated with the Women’s March on Washington and the sister marches around the world, I’m sure. However, on a global scale, this march blew me away completely and I feel blessed to have been given the opportunity to share my small perspective on the way this country and the world is heading.
I got to school on Tuesday and went to classes on Wednesday and Thursday (yassssss for syllabus week). Then, on Friday morning, I caught a seven hour train ride to Penn Station to meet up with my grandmother, sister, and mother in the city. On Saturday morning, we woke up and met more women who came to our Airbnb before the march (which we were scheduled to attend at 1pm). Two of my grandmother’s friends came with us – both incredible women who have hiked many mountains, started their own businesses, and who are both community leaders in their fields. Then one of my mother’s friends arrived, who is amazing in her own right. She came with her mother, still strong at 87 years old after having taken part of the French Resistance during WWII when she was just 16 years old. She was captured by the Nazi soldiers and was read her rights, meaning she could have been executed. Thankfully, she wasn’t but as her daughter told me “ever since then, she’s never been afraid”. Between this truly awe-inspiring woman and my sister, who is 17, we had 70 years between us and 3 generations of women from my family in our little group. And from what I could see on social media during and after the march, having two or three generations of family together was not rare. As I sat in the apartment with these amazing women before the march, as we all crouched around my laptop listening to our female heroes and role models like America Ferrera, Gloria Steinem, and Ashley Judd, I experienced a rushing feeling of warmth in the pit of my stomach.
That feeling of warmth, solidarity, and, frankly, hope only continued to mount as we all walked towards the march which was supposed to start around 42st street and end around 5th Ave (near Trump Tower). As we walked, all chatting and catching up and sharing our hopes for the march, we joined crowds of people wearing pink pussy hats, carrying signs, with heads held high and beautiful smiles lighting up their faces streaming through the streets towards the beginning of the march. As we were walking towards the streets of the march, we kept pace with a man drumming which further inspired us.
And then we got to the march and the people there swept us up in an incredible five hours of peaceful solidarity. As the march became bigger, we swelled far past the original march plan and yelled and chanted our protest. We snapped and instagrammed and spread our love all over social media. The little group that included the wonderful women in my life swelled to include strangers bound by the promise of hope. We chanted and marched for five hours and the signs and voices and anger and humor and hope of those around me made my heart swell.
Seeing the faces of the children held by their parents while holding the hand of my grandmother gave me hope. And as I sat on the train back to school I know that the time for action is today and the calls I will make to my senators and representatives and the politics I will participate in are the most vital action yet I can’t help but feel empowered in this very moment. I know the most important part of this march is the day after where the analysis is done and the problems are uncovered and addressed and the action is taken but for this moment, I can’t help but be proud to be part of this movement and proud to be a woman.
So, to the 500,000+ people I marched with and especially to the women I am blessed to know, thank you for making your voices heard. To my family and my chosen family near and far, thank you. To those whose voices have been systemically oppressed by the system and who are threatened by the administration, you are heard and I will do everything in my power to protect and fight for you.
I can’t help but end this reaction with the quote from one of my favorite TV shows (no shame!): “clear eyes. Full hearts. Can’t lose. And as I witnessed my grandmother and mother sitting on their bed in the apartment after this long, exhausting, incredible, heart wreching day, crying as they watched the global scale of this march unfold, I couldn’t fee any other way.”