Slice of Life Tuesday is hosted by Two Writing Teachers
We arrived early for the Women’s March on NYC, thinking we had plenty of time to have a cup of coffee, meet up with our children, and then make our way to Dag Hammarskjold Plaza so that we could be there for our scheduled 12:45 march time. After all, we were advised to: “Please follow the start times listed. Dag Hammarskjold Plaza cannot hold all of us, so staggered start times keep everyone moving instead of waiting. “
When we rounded the corner of First Avenue and 46th. Street, however, we were greeted by a sea of people already several thousand strong. Young and old, some in wheel chairs and some on the broad shoulders of their mothers and fathers, many wearing pink hats, and all carrying signs, there we stood…shoulder to shoulder.
It was hours before we marched, and hours while we marched. The going was slow, but no one seemed to mind. We sang, we chanted, we raised our voices and felt the power of our collective sound. We passed the hours chatting with those around us, learning their stories and sharing ours. Sometimes a wave of cheers would roll through the crowd, and suddenly the long trek ahead seemed not so long.
Sometimes, it was enough just to read the signs all around us, and marvel at their creativity and sense of humor:
or power to inspire:
At one point, while we stood at the crest of 42nd. Street and paused to take in the view – a river of humanity wending its peaceful, joyous, purposeful way.
Why did I march?
Because I needed to remind myself that we are a hopeful and compassionate nation.
Because I believe in the need to fight climate change, guarantee healthcare, and provide great public education for all our children.
Because I reject racism, misogyny, xenophobia and homophobia.
Because I know the historical implications of “America First” and I reject those ideas, too.
Because I needed to be surrounded by people who believe at their very core as I do, that we simply cannot turn the clock back on all the progress we’ve made over these last eight years towards being a more just and compassionate nation.
So, I marched. And now, hope restored, I turn to doing the work .
Yes, we can.
Yes, we did.
Yes, we will.