Sunday, January 22, 2017

Why I Marched

I marched with 150 thousand others yesterday, joining the Women’s March in Boston. Why did I sacrifice my precious Saturday to stand in an over-packed subway car to take me to the heart of Boston to join an ocean of women and men wearing pink pussy hats, brandishing signs of every imaginable shape and size with slogans ranging from ‘Dicktator’ or ‘Keep your tiny hands off my equal pay’, to ‘the pussy strikes back’?

I did this because I am angry, frustrated, disappointed, but mostly because I believe that doing nothing is not an option. By marching I showed the world, you, myself, that the time has come to say ‘this has gone too far’. It felt better than standing in my kitchen, listening to the news while cooking dinner and feeling helpless, hopeless and powerless.

I marched because marching binds people together without using words. When 150 thousand pairs of feet do the talking, people listen. I marched because it gave me strength, even if it was just for one afternoon and if there is anything that can be called ‘action at a distance’, yesterday’s 600 marches throughout the entire world deserve that description.

I marched against discrimination, bigotry, racism and to keep women's reproductive rights. I marched for a better, more just world. I could say that I marched because I believe that the world would be a better place if women were in charge. I know that sounds sexist. So be it.

But I do believe it is our turn. Why not give us a chance, or at least an equal opportunity? We have qualities that a government that is supposed to take care of its citizens is losing rapidly, feelings of compassion and a willingness to cooperate and LISTEN! I marched for all these reasons and more.

But mostly I marched because I could. leave comment here