Why I March

I thought I would feel morose, despondent or disenfranchised today, but I don’t.  Donald Trump was sworn in as POTUS this morning and while I shudder, I am not sad.  I am not sad because I laughed until I almost cried in the lunchroom today.  I am not sad because my beautiful daughter left inspiring notes on my desk that I then shared with others.  I am definitely not sad because tomorrow, tomorrow I march.

Tomorrow, I march with my daughter, with my co-workers, with my friends and with women and men I have never seen before in my life.  However, if these kindred souls have tears in their eyes, I will know why.  I march because I can. I march, not because my candidate lost an election, but because the one who won must be reminded that the way he treats women is not okay.  I march in solidarity with others who have been made to feel less than a man, who have been talked down to because they are not a man, who have been discredited, discounted or discouraged simply because they are not a man.  I march because I have gone into a business meeting with a brain full of ideas that were not heard because someone was spending more time eyeing the length of my skirt or the fullness of my shirt.  I march because my daughter should never experience this.  I march for those who cannot, or will not, or are too scared to go out but who feel the same.  This, this is why I march.

I march because there are so many others who want to march this feeling out.    We have been beaten, we have been humbled; we have been singled out, called out and laughed out.  We are weary and we are worn, but we are not done.  We are here to be strong for those who need strength, to be wise for those who need wisdom and we are here to give to those who need.  And not because we are women, but because we are human.  Humans who bleed the same red, who cry the same salty tears and who join together to remember this.

and because she marched too.

I march because my daughter sits at the table singing John Lennon and coloring her signs for the march.  I march because her generation sees less of a divide and more equality than mine. I march because this is the time to do it.  This time, I will stand up and say “See me.  All of me.  See us.  Hear us.  All of us.”  I march to collect in my ears the pounding of thousands of feet who march not to change the world, but to acknowledge our part in it.  I march to feel the enthusiasm of like-minded people exercising their constitutional rights.  I march to capture a snapshot of history in my heart to harken me through dark times. I march, and by God, I hope that you march too.