Why I March

On January 20, 2017, Donald J. Trump was inaugurated as the 45th president of the United States. On January 21, 2017, I, along with millions of other men and women across not only the country, but the world, took to the streets to voice my disapproval of the misogynistic, racist, and xenophobic actions and words from our now-President. Being in Florida, I was not expecting a huge turnout for the women's march in my area; after all, I lived in a conservative retirement area, and most old people are not ready to leave their homes to march over a mile in the Florida heat.

However, the first thing I saw when I exited my car was an old couple carrying their signs with one hand and maneuvering their walkers with the other. Walking alongside people of all different ages, races, religions, and political beliefs, who still came together to march for their own reasons and own passions, was truly one of the most inspiring days for me.

On January 20, 2018, again we took to the streets. I woke up at 8:15 AM, still dozy from my sleep that was more of a long nap than a recharge for the day, stood on an overcrowded train full of pussy hats and signs for an hour, and finally made it into Philadelphia.

My childhood best friend came to Villanova for the weekend to march alongside me, and I had about fifteen other Villanova girls, some of whom I had not yet met in person, joining me.

The Women's March gave me an inexplicable feeling of unity amongst all of us. People of all ages once again came out to protest for what they believed in.

We walked for over a mile, our signs held high and our causes yelled loudly.

We made our signs, we wore our hats, we yelled our chants.

We laughed at the funny signs incorporating memes into modern-day problems.

We listened and teared up as speakers recounted their own history of sexual assault, whether it be out on the town or in the workplace.

We felt for the women who stood up there and had to stop speaking for a minute because the memories became too vivid.

We all came from different backgrounds, but none of that mattered on that day. On that day, we were one.

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