Many of you reading this may think my article will be full of political jargon about why I marched. This article is not about that. What I witnessed on the day of the women's march was human kindness at its greatest.
It all began the night before. Posters, markers, glue and politically charged buttons sat on the dining room table. Around the table my dad, his girlfriend, her daughter (my sister) and I looked through empowering quotes, as well as some sassy ones. We wanted our unique voices to be displayed on the posters. All of us were getting ready for the Women’s March in New York City.
The march meant something different for each of us. My dad was marching for the women in his life to have equal rights, I was marching to protect my rights and the rights of those I love in a peaceful and open manor, Morgan, my sister was marching to have her voice be heard on this historical day and Mary, my dad's girlfriend, was marching because it was her right and she was going to be heard in a Presidency where many us felt what this country has worked so hard towards—equally for all—might be swept under the rug or dismantled all together.
The night before the march the four of us stayed up later brainstorming and creating; quoting prayers, Dumbledore and many strong women that came before us. The energy in the room was motivated by love and respect.
The morning of the march the family got up and Morgan's brother (and truly mine as well) Joseph decided he was going to join us! He grabbed supplies to create his sign. Before leaving we did quick checks to make sure we had everything we could need; food, water, cellphone charges and even pocket knives. With the events that took place the day of the inauguration in DC many of us were worried that other violent or unpredictable acts might happen. That someone or several people might try to less thn peacefully disrupt the march. So unfortunately, we felt we needed to be prepared. After that we flew out the door with coffee in our bellies and a fire in our hearts.
The ride
At the train we were met with fellow marchers. Some wearing the now iconic pink pussy cat hats and other people had on their best "Love is Love" or "Feminist" apparel. The train was so packed many of us that boarded stood for the entire duration. We were happy to do so. On the train I felt like I was truly a part of something. The conversations with a fellow marches continued as the train filled with more women, men and families in pink. Sitting below where I was standing was a couple that epitomized the sign, “I can’t believe I still have to protest this shit.” They had been to many marches together over the years and didn’t plan on stopping anytime soon. Another mother-daughter duo passed out “safety-pins” with silver hearts attached on them to let police and other marchers know that we planned on acting accordingly and respectful to all during the day’s events. Behind us in the other car we could hear cheers and applaud, though we didn’t know what for, we could assume that others were feeding off the excitement on the train. On the train and eventually in the city there was a power that to me felt like the spirit that America was built on—I couldn’t get enough of it.
The bathrooms
Never in my life have I ever used the men's room. However, on a day with thousands of additional people pouring into the city, it was hard to avoid. After standing for over an hour my family and I walked off the train in desperate need for a bathroom. Grand Central was packed. The crowds were larger than the Saturday before Christmas. People were posing on the stairs proudly holding up their signs while passerby's read the statements. The iconic train station once again held crowds during a historic moment in history. A few of us made our way down to the bathrooms and the lines, oh the lines, reached past several restaurants. But we expected this. We were politely told where the bathroom line began and stood patiently taking in the scene of people zooming past us. Much to our surprise the line was moving quickly and we soon found out why. Attendants were having women go to the men's room. So Mary and I decided, "why not?" It almost felt appropriate. That on this day we were all here to peacefully come together to support humans right’s, so blurring the gender lines in the bathroom seemed normal. In the bathroom the attendants called women when a stall opened up. There was no tension, no awkwardness, just a lot of gratitude. The men did their business and the women did theirs. It was truly beautiful. I was so filled with goodness after watching hordes of people work together in such a gracious way that I knew today was going to be a good day.
Finding the march
After eating a burger the five of us placed our signs around our necks feeling energized by the crowds around us and we marched out to the streets. Having a general idea where we were going, but not really sure, we followed the people. A few blocks and streets in we found masses of people gathered. There was this peaceful uniting feeling that swept over the city at that moment. We found our way into the barricades and marched. Well we shuffled. They were so many people that one could only get a few steps in at a time. Suddenly, waves of cheers were bellowing from behind us, gradually coming toward the front and hitting us where we yelled our hardest. Waves like this one continued throughout the march like a power surge every few minutes to keep our spirits up.
Finally making our way
Once in the crowd the five of stayed inside the barricades. Thousands of us marched block after block chanting and cheering one another on. Inside the crowds beautiful, memorable and peaceful acts went on. Drum circles and dancing took place in one corner, while in another a father-daughter duo started a chant and in another section mothers held onto their children as the patiently watched the crowds in awe and joy. Men and women stood by one another, and members of the LGBTQ community marched together for their rights and human rights. There was never a moment I didn't feel safe. If anything I felt safer. There was a kind of infectious kindness that struck the crowd and because of that I knew in my heart violence wasn't on anyone's mind. We thanked the police as we passed, and cheered on Senator Chuck Schumer when he passed the crowds towards Grand Central giving words of encouragement. I was walking in history, as we all were and we all understood why we were here. Human kindness and respect reigned over the march. It was simple that day and yet so powerful. I know for myself I was grateful to be with my family and my fellow citizens that day. I was also grateful for the woman handing out munchkins when we needed it the most! After four and half hours of marching, chanting and raising our signs the five of us made it to the end of the march it's a full heart and well, tired legs.
Many people have argued against the many women's marches that took place around the world the day after the inauguration of the 45th president. Regardless of your opinions, the love and the true spirit of the march were felt and seen for many of us in the middle of it. I will never forget January 21, 2017. People from all over, off all different ages and backgrounds came together with such respect for their surroundings. I believe we all understood what the city endured that day and were grateful for the opportunity to express ourselves in a peaceful manor. I will always carry what I saw on that day with me for the rest of my life.
