Imagine five days before turning the nasty nineteen your mother asks you, "Wanna go to the Women's March?" I am usually down for anything with activism. If you need someone to donate, I'm most likely willing to help. You wanna go to a protest? I got you. I'll even lead a random section with a chant I heard five minutes ago. It's never been a scary thing to me but when my mother asked me I was hesitant because this time my dad wouldn't be there, my friends wouldn't be there; it'd just be me. I've been alone countless times in the city but visualize traveling four hours away and having to navigate all by yourself for a big protest that could possibly turn violent in a snap. Make sure to include you're an African American female so you're a target besides the 98% of the rest of your bus. After thinking about all of this you still manage to tell your mother yes like you didn't doze off into LaLa land for the five seconds she left you to answer.
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I didn't take into account I'd need to pack food, prep my clothes, and most of all have a metro card or as they call it in DC, a "Smarttrip." I also forgot I'd have to attempt to get a friend to go along with me. My one friend who is literally studying to be a political advocate for third world countries couldn't go with me which was a bummer but I promised myself I'd have to prove that I'm grown. I'm about to be 19, I should be able to travel by myself AND show I truly wanted to support this movement in DC.
Watching my grandmother fill her small apartment in Brooklyn with criticism towards trump and arguing with a screen like he'd talk back, I got irritated. I felt angry that she had to watch a repeat of what she thought was over. Thinking of that made me say the final okay, I'm serious, let's actually spend money. I'm thinking I'd buy a ticket to depart from the town next to me so I might have a slight chance of knowing someone but instead, we picked two towns over which meant I was with people I'd never seen before. Plus I was the youngest and one of the 2 minorities there.
In order to purchase a SmarTrip, I had to wait on a line that could stretch across the diameter of the earth. I encountered some people from Ohio. I thought New Paltz was friendly but nothing compares to the women at these marches. They told me their grandmother of 92 was an Uber driver that always had a dent in her car and blamed it on the bank. Hearing these precise details should imply I was there for a long time because nobody opens up like that in a matter of talking for five minutes. Part of me debated on whether to take an Uber. I have to mention that I've never used an Uber so I was sorta nervous. Once the Ohio group drove to the march, I decided I should take an Uber but instead of being intelligent, I wanted an easy way of getting the Smartrip card so I got an Uber to go to a CVS. CVS sells them but little did I think to call ahead and ask them so to my dismay the door read no more Smarttrips. My heart sunk a little because I'm all alone and my phone wasn't catching service until Panda Express saved my life! Their wifi popped up and I was able to call an Uber to take me to the starting point of the march. Me thinking I knew it all, didn't check the map for the EXACT address. Remember when your fifth-grade teacher taught you north south east and west? I didn't think that was important for the street so I basically just told him "yeah independence avenue" not thinking it was Independence Avenue SW until in the middle of the cab ride. Traffic got bad so he let me off in the middle of the highway but everyone else was walking on it too so it was fine. I'm talking children holding signs like spread love, guys wearing ponchos saying no, hand-drawn vaginas on posters, Donald Trump grabbing statue of liberties vaginas posters everywhere. I end up walking to try to find the rally by myself and obviously found the herd.
It was amazing to see everyone white women, black women, Latina, Pakistani, Old & young & even men coming to support. It was like I could stop everybody for a conversation and they'd give it to me. Signs were so creative and people's donation funds were captivating as well. One foundation was called "Don't Touch My Vajayjay." Smartass remarks like, "if my uterus was a corporation, could ya deregulate that?" and, "The mad tweeter" with a picture of Donald trump dressed as the mad hatter.
Hearing inclusive encouragement was amazing. The majority of the time, feminism is associated with a white woman. Fun fact, Susan B. Anthony didn't want black women to be able to vote just white women. The division began there but the Women's March proved something different. People of all origins and religions spoke about being a women and our impact on America. Hopefully, this feeling of unity persists beyond Trump's presidency. Women spoke about organizing in our own communities and valuing our existence. We spoke about including in our fight others, advocating for others and being side by side despite differences. We could even have political differences but we need to join on the fact that women are treated differently.
While at home looking at reviews of the march and social media coverage, my women of color on twitter mentioned the march wasn't inclusive. It was inclusive due to the fact people of every color were, welcomed even spoke. I heard Alicia Keys, Janelle Monae, and Sophia Cruz. I stood next to white women holding signs saying black lives matter. I felt the respect and love I was missing literally the day before. What I don't appreciate is why the march was a majority white but when we ask for people to advocate for black lives these Caucasian women that hold these signs of all women matter aren't there. To say you're an advocate for social justice means you put aside your differences and you advocate especially when you have privilege. Your privilege is a door of opportunity for people to gain the rights they deserve and hopefully change people's mindset along the way.
