What Are We Protesting Again Women s March 2017

We will not go away!

I woke up knowing this was going to be an unforgettable day. It felt wonderful to share this adventure with my niece, Shauna, and her two friends from L.A. (all of them in their thirties.)   Information technology didn't matter that I was double their age. We were all very determined about our decision to come to Washington D.C. and exist a office of the historic Women'due south March of 2017.

Upwardly by vi a.m., we quickly ate breakfast, put on our wintertime coats, shoved snacks into our pockets, grabbed water bottles and cameras, and piled into the rental car. We drove toward the Metro station, parked nearby, and walked toward the Court House station in Arlington.

As we crossed the street to the aforementioned station I had used the mean solar day before to get to a protest of Trump's inauguration, I saw several women hurrying toward the descending staircase. All of a sudden, at that place were a few others behind us as we stepped onto the moving stairs. Almost all were wearing the knitted, pink "pussy" hats that had become the resistance symbol for this event.

We rode downward to the area where ticket machines sell Metro passes, then hurried toward the adjacent set of stairs that would take us down to the platform by the train tracks. I had to intermission at the pinnacle of the stairs and accept in the scene below me. It took my jiff away and brought tears to my optics. Beneath were hundreds of women crammed into whatever space they could notice, waiting for the next train. This was the exact reverse of the day earlier in this very aforementioned spot at the very same 60 minutes. The despair and loneliness I had felt equally I waited to get to the depressing scene of Trump taking power was replaced past sheer joy and awe and an immediate sense of sisterhood and solidarity. I knew at that moment this twenty-four hours was going to be a completely dissimilar feel.

As we struggled to stay together moving through the oversupply, Shauna and her friends looked at me, concerned and surprised at my tears. I assured them I was fine. Information technology was so heartening to come across then many young people showing up. All I could say was, "I'm just so happy!"

We were the last ones to squeeze through the door on the train before it closed. The auto was packed so total, it seemed impossible for that many people to fit. Smiles were arable.

In no time at all, we all poured off the train and up into the National Mall. There were groups of women all walking briskly toward the location of the stage several blocks away. We headed toward what was designated as the showtime of the march and stepped onto the strange, white, plastic flooring that covered the dead grass in the open up area of the mall. These interlocking panels were what made the thinness of the crowds at the inauguration the twenty-four hours before wait so starkly pathetic in the infamous photos of that sorry result. The organizers of the Women'southward March were unable to get permission for the open areas of the mall from the National Park Service. But the security fencing had been removed, so hundreds of women were tromping along on the plastic panels. Soon hundreds would turn into thousands, then into hundreds of thousands.

We passed by a group along the way who were by and large immature, but an older woman stood in the eye with a sign that read, "Now y'all've pissed off Grandma." She saw me with my co-conspirators, and waved me over to take a moving picture with her. Aside from existence a grandma-aged colleague, I wore a blackness, wool coat that I had covered with colorful photos of friends and family unit who couldn't come to the march, merely were at that place in spirit.

Every bit we turned abroad from the mall on 4th Street to go one block toward Independence Avenue, masses of people filled the intersection where the stage was ready. Nosotros were surprisingly shut to the phase, and if we had arrived minutes later on, nosotros would have been a whole block further abroad. It was but 8 in the morning, and we were packed in among women and men, young and one-time, with standing room only.

It would be two hours before the speeches would begin, only this blended mass of humanity became an opportunity to encounter others from all across America and hear their stories. I found myself more often than not merely asking people where they were from, realizing how special it was to be in D.C. for this protestation where at that place was representation from probably every state. I stood next to a eye-aged man in a suit, tie, and overcoat with very short hair in a baseball game cap. He said he had only retired from the military. He was there with his teenage daughter. She really wanted to come and had dyed her hair pink for the march. He wanted to be there with her. I asked him nigh the engagement of Full general Mattis every bit Secretary of Defence. He said he knew Mattis and assured me we were in good hands. He said Full general Mattis would never allow an unnecessary military intervention, and would exist a good person to accept as a counter remainder to Trump.

It had been an endeavor for everyone to get to this place, only no one was complaining. Planes, trains, cars and busses brought women and men from every corner of the country. We were all ready to protestation a definite wrong that needed to exist made right. We all knew information technology would be a long booty. And nosotros likewise knew it was beginning that mean solar day. We were all in that location to go it started.

The four of us stayed together in the oversupply. Nosotros could see the phase, but I was too brusque to see anything on it over the heads of those around u.s.a.. Fortunately, we were next to i of the many big screens that had been installed along Independence Artery. Little did we know that people were filling in that street all the manner back to the Washington Monument, and behind the stage up to the Capitol Building. We also didn't know that the un-permitted part of the National Mall we had walked along was filling upwardly with thousands of people. I stayed next to Shauna and was so glad to be in that location with her. We had hoped to exist in that location together for the inauguration of the first adult female president. Nosotros almost canceled our flights later Election Solar day. Then we heard about the Women'southward March on Facebook a couple days later on. The decision to join the march was an like shooting fish in a barrel one.

The first sound from the stage came at 10 a.m. A powerful voice sang a prayer in a Native American language. On the screen, we could see the woman every bit she beat a pulsate and brought the states all to attending. We were more than than ready for things to begin. It had been a long look.

The number of speakers seemed endless. The nearly memorable ones for me included feminist icon Gloria Steinem, a five-year-old Latina whose mother had been deported, so returned to her family, and Kamala Harris who had only been elected to the Usa Senate from California. Even though it was basically her first day on the task, Senator Harris spoke with certainty and passion, yet with calmness and intelligence. She stood out among the others.

The bulletin was clear from all of the speakers. It was time for women to take accuse. And then many speakers encouraged us to go back to our communities and run for part or aid others to run. It was inspiring to accept tasks ahead to focus on. So many of us felt so lost and helpless afterward the shocking results of the election.

The speeches and performances went on for four hours, which meant we had been continuing for 6. I didn't know I had the chapters to stand in one place for 6 hours. Finally, the organizers realized that the march needed to begin, especially when the crowd started chanting, "March! March! March!" They announced that their plans for the outset of the march had to be changed because in that location were so many people. Basically they just told united states to "get that way" and gestured toward the mall. But there really wasn't a start or an end because there were people already filling the space from where nosotros stood all the way beyond boondocks to the White House, which was where the march was supposed to cease.

As nosotros migrated away from the stage surface area, chants began. 1 of my favorites was, "Welcome to your kickoff day. We will not go away!" The dome of the Capitol Building began to appear as we made our way to the open area of the National Mall. That was when we could see there were many thousands of demonstrators. People were moving in every direction. The four of united states of america always kept an eye out for each other to make sure we didn't get separated.

As nosotros crossed over the width of the mall lined with arid copse on either side to get to Pennsylvania Artery, there was a sea of pink hats, including on the heads of men. As we merged onto the artery that heads toward the White House, the crowd was and so dense it was difficult to move. Turning effectually to take pictures of the view behind me was challenging. In that location was always someone correct there.

As we passed the Newseum, the feeling was electric. Many people were standing on the balustrade a few floors upwardly and cheering united states of america on. We all cheered dorsum. The roar of the oversupply was thunderous and uplifting. Freedom of speech was literally in the air. Shauna and I looked at each other and told each other how glad nosotros were that we were there. This was more a march. This was momentum.

Information technology was inspiring to see so many young, resolute faces. No one looked doubtful near being there. We got lucky with the weather. The sky was grey, the cloud ceiling low, but the temperature was comfortable, and there was no pelting (dissimilar the twenty-four hours before.) We barely needed to wear our coats. Nosotros were getting our exercise as nosotros headed across the city. It was great to be moving later on all that standing. Walking, although slowly, felt good.

As nosotros approached the Trump Hotel, a rumble of booing began to build into a loud chorus. I'm sure this reaction repeated itself with every new wave of marchers. It was amazing to be surrounded by so many like-minded people. Even though there was diversity of stance inside the crowd, as was reflected in the many signs and placards, there was no doubt about who was the bad guy in this story. The collective emotions of all were united in cloy and disdain for this man.

We passed by groups of people singing. A wonderful choir of marchers had stopped and were singing an African song, "Bambalela" which was translated on their signs to hateful, "Never surrender." Their harmonies and their spirit were uplifting. Clusters of people stood on bleachers or steps that elevated them above the oversupply. They were frequently the leaders of the chants. "We want a leader, non a creepy tweeter," and, "This is what commonwealth looks like" were common slogans.

When we passed by intersections of streets that led into the northern function of Washington, those streets were filled with people. It was in those moments that I realized this was a bigger oversupply than had been anticipated. As we kept migrating with the crowd down Pennsylvania Artery toward the White House, I had a moment of nostalgia for Woodstock, another peaceful gathering of hundreds of thousands. None of u.s.a. knew how many were at this result, merely later information technology was estimated, equally with Woodstock, at half a meg.

In front of Urban center Hall, there was a banner with the image of Frederick Douglass and a quote past him. It read, "Power concedes nothing without demand. It never did and it never will." Although 1857 was right next to Douglass' proper noun, Trump would later brand a annotate near him as if he were nevertheless alive. I retrieve Trump just saw an image of a black man passing by during the countdown parade, and figured he was important.

When we got inside a couple of blocks of the White House, the crowd had basically stopped moving. We all agreed that we were pretty tired past then and would head back to our place in Arlington. I knew I didn't actually want to encounter the White House knowing Trump was inside. But I needed one more photo.

I handed Shauna my iPad and posed with my glaze so that all my friends could see themselves represented at the march. I had it in my head I wanted to replicate the photo of Portland's mayor standing in front of a nude statue looking like he was naked under an overcoat. His photograph's caption was, "Expose yourself to art!"

When we got back to our rented condo in Arlington, I posted the photo on Facebook with my own slogan, "Expose yourself to activism!" Many of the friends whose photos were fastened to my coat were thrilled to see themselves. I probably got more responses to that photo than any other that I have ever posted. Mission achieved. I feel like I really did bring them with me.

We turned on the giant TV screen that hung on the wall equally we flopped downward onto the couches in the living room. But we were on our feet again and yelling when we saw the images of the march on the news. The unabridged National Mall was filled with pink-headed people. And then they started broadcasting marches from effectually the country and the world. It was incredible! It was then great to be there at the center of it all, surrounded past people from all over the country. I volition never forget that day. And Shauna and I will always have that retentiveness to share. And as ii committed feminists, Donald Trump, we will not go away!

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Source: https://maureenmcgarry.com/womens-march/

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