First, to those who don't know, I have PTSD/anxiety. Lots of times I don't like leaving my house, much less being around people I don't know. This, along with the potential for a terrorist attack, made me plan to stay as FAR away from my birth place as possible. I wanted to march, but I was nervous/depressed/and wondered what difference it would really make. I didn't want to march by myself and couldn't bring myself to beg others to go, if I was iffy.
So yeah, I planned on not going. The day before the March, one of my high school friends wrote to say their crash-pad had fallen through. I offered up my messy house so that they had a place to stay. (whoooo boy, you don't realize how messy your house is until people are COMING! Side note: Dear cat, you suck and stop vomiting when I'm not looking!!). Next thing I knew, I'd committed myself to marching!!
Obviously, I was not prepared, but since I cannot be silent on this issue, that wasn't going to be a deterrent. I stayed up late that night thinking. What would I need whilst marching?! Chapstick (duh), water, my loudest shouting voice. A sharpie. My name and contact information written on my arm, for worst case scenarios. (I'll get to that more later.)
We ended up at Reston metro at around 8:30am to find that most of Northern VA seemed to have the same idea. This picture is just one of the lines to buy a metro pass. We ended up waiting 3 hours.
We met Tony, a retired Army man (also a Mason) who had travelled up here by himself to march. We met a teacher and many others along the way. We entertained ourselves by reading signs, talking to people, and kicking ourselves for not planning better!! ;)
A lady gave me a hat Joanne from Vermont crocheted in solidarity. I completely loved that people were getting involved even if they couldn't be there in person. (Thanks, Joanne!! <3 font="" nbsp="">
Though it was slightly chaotic, there wasn't a single "nasty" person there. Everyone was friendly and patient and kind. I thought that might change once we got on the metro and would definitely change when we got to town.
After three hours of waiting, we finally made it to the platform!
Still, people were kind. People were patient. There wasn't any pushing or shoving. We all cheered once we boarded the Silver line (as Janet called it, the Silver bullet). There was singing and a feeling of excitement.
See. Ever since 11/8/16, I've felt like a gray cloud or a dementor was directly above me. I went from shock, to fear, to depression, to disbelief, and back again. I had lost hope. What had so many of my fellow Americans seen in a man who mocks handicapped, grabs women by the genitals, or condoned violence against citizens who didn't share his beliefs or skin color?!?! Had I missed something? I know our choices were lacking this election year, but holy shit....and then there's Russia....
So, I'd lost hope. In our country, in our people, in our government. Until that day. The moment I saw all those people in their beautiful pink hats, sporting their clever signs, and standing in the misty air, all that disappeared. My hope came flooding back in to see the crowds who'd turned out. I knew that if the last line on the Silver line was packed, the Mall was going to be off the hook!
Before I share the rest of my photos, I have to try to sum up the gazillion thoughts and feelings I had. First, PRIDE!!! Pride that so many Americans and people across the world came together. While I'm sorry that we have to come together like this, maybe this guy WILL unite us. Out of idiocracy comes unity!?!? Seems like a good bumper sticker. Seriously though, I saw people of all types. Old, young, white, black, crippled, gay, straight, Republicans, Democrats, Christians, Muslims, Atheists, and everything in between. All of those people put aside their differences and stood together. There were no arrests and I saw no signs of violence or ugliness. If that doesn't make you proud, you are probably dead inside.
Boys and men marched right along with the masses of women of every religion, race, color, belief system, etc. They chanted "her body, her choice" or "we need a leader, not a frequent tweeter". They stood up for women's rights, civil rights, climate issues, and scores of other issues.
I saw one beautiful soul sporting a sign that said "Not a rapist". He was Mexican. If you cannot understand why I march, please picture this. You are a good person. You are Mexican. You're an immigrant who has come to this country to make a better life for yourself. Whether here legally or illegally, you were called a rapist, a criminal, by Donald J. Trump. But you'd never THINK of raping anyone. You't stand up to protect people from being raped. And then the country you lived in voted in a man who said vile, untrue things.
It hurts me to think how that must feel. It hurts me to think that we are really this damaged. This is the only world we live in folks. Is this REALLY how we want things to be? Do we want the color of your skin or your gender to control how far you go in life or your pay? WTF would a male's pay for the exact same job be more than a woman's? Why do white people turn a blind eye to racism that CLEARLY exists?! I know these are all difficult conversations people. I know it won't be easy but I HAVE to believe we can bridge the distance between us all. Here are some of the people who helped restore that hope & faith.
I have tons of other thoughts but I'll sum this post up by saying how flipping proud I am of myself, of the other 500,000 DC marchers, the District itself (police, national guard, etc.) and most DEFINITELY the WMATA (Metro) for an outstanding movement. They were completely overloaded (2nd largest crowd in DC Metro history only to Obama's 2009 Inauguration, I believe.)
The only time I felt true fear of impending doom or severe anxiety was leaving DC. We almost got trampled going down the escalator. Too many people, not enough platform, and nowhere to go. Luckily, Metro was on top of it and everyone did their best to protect everyone else. (The lady who was smooshed into me had her arms wrapped around me and was crying "I'm sorry! I'm soooooo soorrrrryyyyyy, Oh honey, hang on. Hang on!!") She didn't know I was terrified of being crushed by the crowd and reinjured or worse but man did she take care of me like her own. (I've got tears just thinking of it.)
Like the rest of the day, nothing but love for each other!!!
And that made ALL the difference.
I can't keep quiet. I'm NOT done. I'm awake and motivated. Thank you Women's March, good people across the world, and love for giving me hope and energy to fight this fight.
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