On election night, I saw cheers of certainty, but also saw tears of uncertainty. I felt numb by the reality of the moment we were in, win or lose. I felt at a loss for the days to come, or for the words to speak. Everyone was watching each other, waiting for something to happen. We were all still in this moment. We were all feeling something that night. I felt something again, on the brisk early morning of January 21st, 2017. Men, women, and children alike, all came together to march as one. We marched through downtown Reno, Nevada, holding our banners and signs as far as our arms could reach, and as high as our hopes for equality. We sang, chanted, and expressed our fears, our hopes, and our peace. We came together and voiced our certainties and uncertainties. We marched to express our love, our life, and our human condition. Each step we took as one, was a step in the right direction for what some people deem as, "insignificant" or, "insufficient" for the time being, but actually something truly remarkable and revolutionary.

I marched that cold Saturday morning to march in solidarity for the people I love. I marched for the Trans women who are killed, for the ones who had to fight for their right to use something as mundane as a restroom every day of their lives, and who continue to be ridiculed as something lesser than a woman. I marched for single mothers, who work hard for their children, but can only give as much as they can get, and continue to be denoted as a helpless woman. I marched for the LGBT, who have to continue to fight for significance, in the workforce, and in the world. I marched for the disabled, who are placed under scrutiny, and are deemed as ill, or non-able, in the eyes of an able person. I marched for the women in other countries who do not get to march. I marched for the sexual assault victims who are afraid to march themselves. I marched for women who need reproductive healthcare of any kind. I marched with the men who support these women. I marched for all races, religions, and identities, in hopes that we can change the missteps we have taken. I did not march for my voting rights, or any other, "privileges". I marched because Alice Paul and Susan B. Anthony have shown me that marches are a step towards something extraordinary and powerful. I marched because I did not want to cope anymore, I wanted hope. I marched because for the first time since the election in November, I felt empowered, as a disabled person, as a sexual assault victim, as an artist, and as a woman. I felt empowered to take a step, and show not only our President, but society, that we can take better steps towards equality, together. I want to make America kind. I want to make America equal.

I know Mr Trump is the President of the United States. I know he was sworn into office and took the oath as our 45th President. I say, "not my President" figuratively, meaning that he is not the President who makes me feel empowered as a women, or even a human being. I reject his notions of what will make America great again, as if he will ever make America great for all. I reject his rhetoric as inexcusable as the leader of our country, which has opened the doors to many hateful crimes and comments towards all. My President would take a step towards success for all parties involved. My President would make America equal, not divided. Trump is not my America. The people I marched with are America; a beautiful, hopeful, diverse group of people all coming together as one.

I marched with all my other snowflakes, because together, we can create a blizzard of change. I hope to make many more steps towards equality for all. I marched with a voice, filled with power, in the greatness for desire. I marched to Inform, and to make this a norm; a norm that shows that we have a right to be free, despite those who disagree. I wanted to march to make them see what it means for me to believe and make that choice to be the voice of reason.

I marched for the desire of equality, love, and hope.