Why We Marched

My son and I went to the march yesterday, along with over 90,000 of our closest friends. It was powerful, motivating, and has lead to some really good and needed conversations about intersectionality and the debt that white women owe to women of color between some of my friends who also went.

This kid thought it was so cool that he is hoping to bring his signs to school tomorrow and is hoping that we can hit a protest EVERY weekend.


Unfortunately, I fear that our new President will give us something worse protesting against on a weekly, if not daily, basis.

I was trying to explain to my four year old what a protest is and why we went, but she’s still too little to understand. Someday I’ll tell her about what it felt like in January of 2017. How scary it felt to have a President who hates women and people of color, who has no discernible moral compass, who values money over people, and himself over his country.

But disliking Trump isn’t the only reason we marched. We marched because I want my son to see that women are strong and organized and have a voice. We marched because I want him to know that HE has a voice and that as he grows, he can be an ally to the women in his life. We marched because I want him to know that our community is filled with people who care about women and people of color and our LGBT friends and our disabled friends.

We marched because it felt like SOMETHING, even if it was small, and doing something feels better than spending another day watching Twitter with an ever increasing sense of dread.

We marched because it never hurts to remind people that Trump has tiny baby hands.


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