We Did Not Know What Was Coming Series: A March Infused With The Light
PREFACE: To say the last seven years have been a journey of growth for me and this country is an understatement. To help me process and cope with the roller-coaster of emotions I have felt these years, I started writing on Medium right after the 2016 election. My last series ended December 31, 2020, after Biden won the presidential election.
Recently I realized I missed writing “in my journal” and decided to go back to the very beginning and re-read my essays. I wanted to see where I started out on November 9, 2016, and where I am now. I decided to repost my favorite blogs with a short present-day commentary and continue onto current times.
I hope a few of you will join me on this journey of recollection, reflection, and learning. Little did we know what we were headed into.
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A March Infused With The Light: January 24, 2017
When I wrote my first essay, I shared that as a psychotherapist I understood this country stood on the edge of great healing. The shadow of darkness — the racism, misogyny, xenophobia, lack of concern for the environment and the selfish greed that has been churning under the surface of our society since this country’s inception — finally burst forth for all to see with the election of Donald Trump. I wrote and deeply believe it is only when that shadow is up front and center can it be healed by the energy of light. I described the light as the human qualities of compassion, curiosity, calmness, courage, connection, creativity, courage, and confidence.
Millions of us who participated in the Women’s Justice Marches across this country and around the world now clearly see and feel this polarity. What we experienced Friday, January 20th through today demonstrates both the danger of the darkness which is growing with every executive order that Trump signs and the beauty of the light expressed Saturday, January 21st.
It has taken me a few days to process all I saw and felt in Washington D.C. during the rally and walk. It was so amazing. My son and I started out to the rally and were met by hundreds of men and women in the train station also trying to get to the rally site. A Metro announcement was made that the station was being by-passed because all trains were full. People started texting for Ubers, waving down cabs and jumping onto city buses. Because M lives in DC, he suggested we Uber to the airport, miles further away from the rally, and catch the Metro there hoping we could find seats. We got on the train but there were no seats. People were so packed in you did not have to hold on to a bar to stay upright. The crush of bodies kept us upright.
After fifteen minutes on the train I noticed something that was carried through the entire march. People on that crammed, hot, claustrophobic train were kind to one another, saying excuse me, asking are you okay, and apologizing for jostling one another. They were respectfully asking people who lived in DC where they should get off or how long did they think it would take to walk to the rally site. Residents patiently and creatively offered suggestions and options. Others shared stories about their charter bus stuck in traffic and how they all got off in the middle of the highway to get to a Metro station. That was the conversation.
Physically people were bundled up against the cold; most were wearing their pink hats and all sorts of signs were rolled up and tucked into bags and backpacks. I could feel something monumental was going to happen in the next hours and boy did it.
For context, the rally site was Independence and 4th Street. When M and I joined the crowd, we were standing at 9th Street. We knew the March route continued down Independence to 14th Street. Unknown to us at that point was the fact that people were packed all the way to 14th. Officially there was no official route to walk! The march extended even further on the other side of 4th going the opposite direction.
The speeches — broadcast on huge screens — were inspiring. Each speaker representing a different issue and slice of humanity was cheered by all the marchers. Finally we started to walk; or rather we took one step and then stopped for a few minutes before we took the next step. This was a gigantic version of the Metro train — the place was packed and there was unbounded goodwill everywhere.
I want to cry as I type these words because so much light infused the 600,000+ walkers; days later it still takes my breath away. The march was visually beautiful with hundreds of thousands of pink pussy hats; we looked like a sea of tulips swaying in the wind. The signs were works of art — kaleidoscopes of color and designs; the slogans were funny, clever, outrageous, serious, and so honest they broke your heart. The march was a physically a thing of beauty — so pleasing to the eye anywhere you looked for blocks and blocks and blocks and blocks and blocks.
The people were as varied as the signs. I walked past and touched an old woman in a wheelchair bundled in a blanket being pushed by her daughter. I later saw a picture of the old woman on the internet. She was 100 years old! I saw lots of babies strapped to their mother or father’s back or chest. There were 600,000 people walking and I did not hear one baby cry; these pure little souls that I walked behind were sound asleep or looking around wide-eyed. The point is they felt safe; in that maze of color and humanity these babies were content. There were children, teenagers, young adults, middle aged adults and seniors. People came alone, with their family, with their partner, with their posses. Every race, ethnicity and sexual orientation was represented. There were even dogs there with little coats wearing messages on their backs.
The most frequent words I heard all day long were, “Excuse me”. Not one person was arrested that day. In fact the few times I saw any police, the crowd smiled and clapped appreciation for them keeping us all safe. People were serious, happy, and proud to be speaking their truths while all the time exhibiting qualities of the light. I am still overwhelmed by the goodness that was there.
Contrast that with the smallness of Trump’s first public appearance at the CIA, bashing the media for under-reporting the inaugural attendance. Contrast that with Sean Spicer’s shameful debut as press secretary decrying a media campaign to sully the inauguration by faking low attendance. Contrast that with Kelly Conway presenting the notion of “alternative facts” which Dan Rather named correctly as lying. Contrast that with Trump taking down the Spanish version of the White House web pages. Contrast that with executive orders today allowing pipelines to destroy the environment. I could go on and on and on. The darkness of this administration is growing.
As a therapist, I know it can take years for a human being deeply burdened with shadows to heal. I know the chaos and pain and tears a human being struggles through as they seek to find peace and self-love. I know it happens when someone can be a compassionate witness and guide who holds the person in unconditional regard. I know the healing that happens inside a person can happen in a family, a community and a nation.
As burdened as Trump and his administration is, there are millions of people in this country who now can say with respect and dignity — no, stop, unacceptable, tell the truth, tell the truth, tell the truth — with firmness and intelligence. We all saw that on Saturday, January 21st. I believe with my entire being that this light is going to spread and move into right action.
I am also a realist. There is going to be much chaos and darkness as Trump attempts to put his stamp on this country and the world. We, as a people, have to recognize we must persevere and take action steps every day contacting our members of congress over and over and over again saying no, stop, unacceptable as well as thank you to those elected officials who stand against Trump’s agenda. We must encourage those in the light to run for office. We must put our time, effort and money into causes close to our heart for at least the next two years.
If Trump does not resign or is not impeached, the light can prevail with the 2018 elections. All members of the House of Representatives will be running for re-election and one third of the Senate. That may be when the tide turns. In this meantime it is going to be a bumpy ride but love trumps hate — always.
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Commentary: November 16, 2024
I loved re-reading the essay above. I re-read it four times because it brings back such wonderful memories. And the question remains — did the Women’s March matter? Did it do something? From where I sit, the answer is yes.
That said marches are messy; there is no easy way to connect the dots stating with absolute certainty that what happened on January 17, 2017, caused ‘X’ in 2023. Instead, I feel ripples of change emanated out from the March.
Here are some of my thoughts on the ripple effects of that day:
· First of all, it was not just one million women marching in DC (I was there and it was a million women and men), it was 4.1 million women and men marching in all 50 states and 300,000 individuals marching in 30 countries around the world.
· One month later thousands of women (many wearing their pink pussycat hats) turned out at airports and demonstrations across the country protesting the Muslim Ban offering help and support.
· These same women turned out by the tens of thousands (again wearing those pink hats) at marches decrying the separation of children from their families at the southern border, climate destruction, attempts to repeal the Affordable Care Act and later at pro-choice events and Black Lives Matter. We now see intersectionality in ways that were unprecedented until the Women’s March.
· Then rage turned to concrete political action. In 2017 EMILY’s List grew to 5-million-member donors whose dollars encouraged civic participation among Democratic women by training and funding their races for office at all levels of government.
· By all accounts, the Women’s March contributed to increased voter turnout in 2018 and we regained control of the House of Representatives. We also saw more women than ever in our history elected to Congress in 2018. That was surpassed in 2020. Women now make up just over a quarter of all members of the 117th Congress — the highest percentage in U.S. history.
· Though the phrase “Me Too” was coined in 2006, the #MeToo hashtag went viral in October 2017 when actor Alyssa Milano (who participated in the January March) sent a tweet asking those who’d been harassed or assaulted to share stories or just reply “me too,” following revelations about film producer Harvey Weinstein. Women around the world shared their stories. I believe they were emboldened to tell their stories by the power of women taking to the streets in early 2017.
· The Women’s March (the incorporated organization) was a major player in the protests against Brett Kavanaugh’s nomination to the Supreme Court in 2018 which also amplified the #MeToo movement — calling attention to and demanding accountability (civil and criminal) to rampant systemic sexual harassment of women.
· Across the country, newcomers to activism joined existing groups or started their own working on issues of partisan gerrymandering, voter suppression, became leaders in their local democratic parties, ran for school boards and local offices, and launched PACs.
· This brings us November 2023. Since the Dobbs decision that ended Roe v. Wade in 2022, abortion-rights advocates have won ballot initiatives expanding or protecting access in Michigan, Vermont, California and now Ohio. They have also blocked attempts to restrict access in Kansas, Kentucky and Montana. I would bet my life that the women fueling these initiatives were at the Women’s Marches.
So did the Women’s March on January 21, 2017, make a difference? I have read countless articles on social justice efforts and change since January 21, 2017, and many individuals said they were lead to action by their participation in the women’s marches around the country in 2017.
I can say with certainty it made a difference for me. I went into social action in ways I never dreamed possible. Did I make a difference? I don’t know but I do know evil happens when good men and women say or do nothing. The March inspired me to do good. I think it did the same for many others.
It was a glorious day.
