Last Saturday, January 20, hundreds of thousands of people gathered in New York City and around the world in order to take part in the 2018 Women’s March. What better day for it to occur than on the one year anniversary of the President’s inauguration, as well as the first day of the government shutdown. I am lucky enough to include myself as one of the women who marched this weekend.
For those who don’t quite understand that march, including the sole person waving a Make America Great Again flag at Columbus Circle, and the two people I overheard saying “What’s the point of this march? The economy is booming!” I would like to explain why I felt the march was so necessary, and why I, a young women, not only wanted, but needed to march.
The past year was a year filled with hatred, fear, anger, and disappointment. Our President, the leader of our country (the land of the free), has continually spewed hateful rhetoric, whether it be in the form of excusing Nazis or characterizing other countries as “sh*tholes”. Immigrants, dreamers, and the least fortunate among us have been living in fear of the next legislation to be passed, legislation that discriminated against minorities and those living in poverty. I feel the anger and disappointment whenever yet another prominent and powerful man is accused of sexual assault. The anger and disappointment runs rampant through all the women I know, young and old.
This anger that has been slowly building could be felt with every step taken at the march. Every sign portrayed the same underlying message: what is happening in the world right now is utterly unacceptable. The way the most powerful man in our country acts is embarrassing. The way women are treated is a reflection of antiquated ideals. The way minorities are treated is disgraceful. The way that the powerful treat the oppressed is just plain dangerous.
As unfortunate the world feels right now, the march, to me, illustrated a changing tide. It is not just those who are most affected by the unfairness who are outraged. Every person there had to have at least a little anger stirring inside them, or why would they have marched? There was a true sense of solidarity within the march, a solidarity brought on by the desire to create change.
Each and every person there inspired me. There was the little girl I overheard explaining to her younger siblings that Trump wanted to send “all the people he doesn’t like to not nice countries”. There were the two boys, who couldn’t have been more than 10, waving signs in their window to a cheering crowd. There was the dog who barked along to the chants of the people he walked with. There was the woman who held up a sign explaining that the march last year inspired her to run for office, which she won. There was the woman who held a poster board urging people to write something that someone had said in order to diminish their voice, so that they could take it back. The people who walked, and walked for a purpose, helped fuel my purpose.
Why did I march? I marched to support all the people who needed it. I marched to help signify the change in the tides. I marched to inspire and to be inspired. I marched because time is truly up on the unfairness and inequality that is spread throughout the world right now. I marched because it is my right as an American to protest the things that I feel are truly unfair. I marched to take part in what a democracy truly looks like. The march was not a singular moment of dissent, it is part of a larger movement to invoke change for the betterment of America, and I am truly fortunate to have been able to say that I marched.
