Saturday, January 21st, the day of women's rallies around the world, was an unseasonably but appropriately warm and sunny day. A few of my teammates decided to walk to Downtown Providence for the Women's March between practices. Going to a rally was a first time experience for many of us, including myself, and we had no idea what to expect. Everyone I was with had been outraged and dejected from the election results, but these feelings had transformed into fear and uncertainty by Inauguration Day. Headlines from protests in Washington DC from the day of the inauguration depicted riots, arrests, vandalism, and violence, and I was slightly hesitant to go to the Women's March on Providence because I expected something similar to happen. But boy, was I wrong.
All the way from the top of College Hill (still a 15 minute walk from the Statehouse) we could hear vague singing through speakers, and faint crows faintly cheering "Rise Up". Providence was a lot busier than I'd ever seen it, with groups of both students and families wearing pink Pussy Hats and holding handwritten signs, all walking in the same direction: towards the Statehouse.
We arrived at the lawn of the Statehouse by following the chants until we were a part of them. We were pleased to see seas of people everywhere: on top of the balconies of the courthouse, and to the right and left as far as the eye could see. But as crowded as it was, I felt like I was in an incredibly safe and friendly environment. There was no pushing or shoving like there are at concerts, no yelling despite the anger people probably had felt at one point, no obscene signs despite the obscene things Donald Trump has said to us. There were more men and children (and dogs) than I had anticipated, strangers complimenting each others posters, and amazing speakers taking hold of the mic. The march was an physical embodiment of enthusiasm, unity, and hope.
As we settled down and found a spot relatively close to the statehouse, a medical school student took stage and sang "Brand New Kind of Me" by Christina Aguilera. The lyrics were powerful and relevant. "Don't be surprised If I speak up when you're wrong", she belted to cheers from the crowd.
After her performance came a speech from a seventeen-year-old high school senior, who referred to herself as a "STEMinist". After deciding that women and minorities were not fairly represented in STEM professions in the media, she started a workshop to get these women interested and engaged in these types of fields. A girl with a "STEM Femme" poster next to me enthusiastically cheered, along with all of my teammates who are STEM students at Brown.
After her speech had finished, a man in support of the Black Lives Matter movement took stage. "We're not going to be intimidated by Donald Trump," he preached to the thousands listening to him. "Black lives matter, everybody's lives matter. We've been here for 500 years, we shouldn't have to protest any more". It was great to see so many causes represented at this rally: in addition to women's rights, there were signs and speeches directed towards immigration, climate change, LGBTQ rights, social security, racial equality, and public education.
The MC started chants between speakers, such as "Love, not hate, makes America Great", "No justice, no peace", and of course, "Rise up!". At one point, a woman fell ill, and the MC alerted the crowds that 911 had been called, but she asked for any medics to come to the front to help. A woman with her baby strapped onto her chest, presumably a medic, ran through the crowd that parted for her. Because of the cooperation of everyone there, the ambulance had arrived within 3 minutes and the woman was taken to the hospital. "Thank you!" she praised. "We are a community".
One of the most enlightening and emotional speeches was by Providence Planned Parenthood representatives. The first speaker was a nurse at the clinic, and she recalled her deep sadness and anger the morning after the election. But the reason she got out of bed that day and went to work was to serve all the women who she knew would come in that day to the clinic for a multitude of reasons. "The refugee mother of six, the twelve-year-old assaulted by her stepfather, the victim of domestic abuse, and the college student not ready to give up her future" were just a handful of patients she saw for birth control and IUDs, abortions, and cancer screenings. The nurse said that she was so passionate about her job because her own mother had to get an illegal abortion at sixteen years old and had been emotionally, physically, and sexually abused by the doctor who performed it. The staff and doctors at Planned Parenthood are caring and nurturing, she said, which is necessary because Planned Parenthood is the only source of affordable healthcare for a large percentage of women.
An escort for Planned Parenthood then took the mic, and he gave a shocking three-minute speech about the struggles women go through in order to merely enter the building. No matter whether they're there to get an abortion, to refill their birth control pills, or to get a breast exam, protesters are all throughout the parking lot harassing and intimidating them until they reach the front door of Planned Parenthood. The women, probably in tears, get anti-abortion literature and Bibles and plastic fetuses thrust at them, and they are urged to go back to their car and drive away. The escort meets her at the door, protecting her from the aggressive protesters and comforting her. This facility may be the only source of healthcare for these women, and they are being bullied as they try to enter it--a violation of fundamental human rights.
A state legislator was the last to speak before we left. "We're sure as hell not gonna let the politicians in Washington destroy the progress we have made over the past few decades" she preached. Her final message: to encourage all women's rights advocates to call our legislators with requests and thank the legislators who are representing us, to support each another in times of need, and to continue to rally for our beliefs.
As we walked out, we felt energized and hopeful, but also stunned into silence. A lone flag waved in the distance. It read, in scrawled handwriting, "We will not be silenced".
