“Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring, those ripples build a current that can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance.”
– Robert Kennedy, 1966
Lots of people are asking, so…
That’s “why I marched” in the Women’s March on Washington this past weekend. It’s why I also spent the whole week in Washington D.C., to protest the inauguration of the illegitimate Donald Trump as president of our country. And it’s why I will continue to resist, at every opportunity, every day he holds office.
Yes, I marched for “women’s rights,” too – I am a woman, and equal pay and the right to choose and the importance of speaking out against misogyny and all the other “women’s issues” are important to me. Very important to me, of course. But they are not the only reasons I marched.
They aren’t even at the top of my list, frankly.
I marched because it has to end. All of it:
The assault on our environment.
Rampant, unapologetic crony capitalism.
The police state.
We have to continue forward progress toward solving these issues. We cannot let our momentum stall now; we are not going back.
For the sake of us all.
And I actually have the least skin in the game; let’s be honest. I might be a woman, but I’m a privileged white citizen – childfree – with boatloads of security in all forms from education to money to health insurance to a family support system, living in the so-called “bubble” of the Bay Area.
But precisely for that reason, I must do the most. After all; the main reason I’m “childfree” is that for decades now, I’ve known I didn’t want to raise a child in a world filled with said racism, xenophobia, rampant crony capitalism, police brutality, and on the brink of ecological disaster.
But in making that choice, I knowingly left myself with the time, resources and mental energy to challenge everything.
I’ve been doing an okay job, but it’s time to kick it up a notch.
Every single day now must be a fight – not for me, but for the oppressed. For those who aren’t afraid of what might be, but who already struggle in the now. For those who find themselves at risk of being plunged into even greater darkness than the place where “America” has already been holding them down.
Every day must be lived in full awareness of the plight of my friends and neighbors at society’s intersections. Yes, I am crying and losing sleep over potentially being uninsured some day – I don’t want to be and I truly hope I’m not. But since long before my ears were open, others have cried out against and for much more.
When will their cries be answered?
Only then will it “get better” for all of us.
So: Week 1 of the authoritarian’s regime, I flew to Washington. I organized, I educated myself, I rallied my family, I protested the inauguration with my mother, sister, aunt, and friends, and then together we all marched with the women of the Women’s March.
Today, and every day, I am resisting.
Luckily, my sister still lives in D.C. and still has her job at the Department of Justice (fingers crossed!), and she DEFINITELY needs someone to grocery shop and cook for her, so… At least I have a crash pad.
“In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.”
– Martin Luther King, Jr., 1967
See all the photos of my week in Washington D.C. against the inauguration here.