Last night, I went to my first protest since Trump took office. Ruth was feeling under the weather, so I went alone. And I realized that, in every protest I've participated in, I’ve always gone with at least one friend. This was my first time going solo.
But, an acquaintance had posted about an impromptu trans-rights protest that, as far as I know, was organized just days prior. And I wanted to be there. I wanted to be out of the house, I wanted to be present.
I arrived a little early. It was raining and the crowd was small-ish, scattered about, and waiting to coalesce. Some with signs, some like me and just there with our solo bodies. Then, it grew. And grew. And we started chanting, then shouting. Cars drove by honking in support. So much honking - cars, trucks, even a UPS driver. By the time the speakers started talking, the crowd was so big I couldn't see where it ended. I don't know the headcount - don't even care to find out.
I didn't know anyone around me. But, when I caught someone's eyes, there were smiles and nods and understanding. I wasn't lost in the crowd, I was one with it. And there was more than a flicker of hope in this. There was a glowing furnace of embers, seething and pulsing with hope.
I know we have formidable foes in front of us - authoritarianism, racism, transphobia, homophobia, misogyny, classism, and the climate crisis. And Trump and Elon and their ilk have money, large platforms, and inflated egos and the amplification of what they are doing is so loud that it can be deafening.
That's why I needed to be present last night. I needed to be lost in the rain with people who gathered at the last minute, in a city still reeling from the damage and trauma of wildfires, to say, "No. Not here. I dissent."
I needed to see that there is a groundswell forming.
Trump, Elon, and their cronies are not the majority of our nation's population. But, they are depending on the apathy of the majority. They will continue to create enemies amongst us by targeting our most vulnerable marginalized populations (less than 2% of our population identify as trans for example) so that we don't realize that they are the true enemies of democracy. We cannot let them divide us.
Last night, I saw all of one moment of hate. A couple of 20-something white guys drove by in a truck and flicked us off with giddy faces. But their hate was so completely drowned out by the love being expressed that you could see their smug pride almost immediately deflate. They knew they couldn't even come close to making a dent.
So, if you're feeling sad or angry or afraid of what is going on in our country, I understand. I am too. And, if you can, I heartily encourage you to find a gathering of dissenting people near you, put your phone down, and be there. Bring your full feeling - all that sadness and anger and fear. Look into the eyes of some strangers, blink back some tears, give a warm smile, and nod. Then, lift that chin up.
You are not alone.
But, an acquaintance had posted about an impromptu trans-rights protest that, as far as I know, was organized just days prior. And I wanted to be there. I wanted to be out of the house, I wanted to be present.
I arrived a little early. It was raining and the crowd was small-ish, scattered about, and waiting to coalesce. Some with signs, some like me and just there with our solo bodies. Then, it grew. And grew. And we started chanting, then shouting. Cars drove by honking in support. So much honking - cars, trucks, even a UPS driver. By the time the speakers started talking, the crowd was so big I couldn't see where it ended. I don't know the headcount - don't even care to find out.
I didn't know anyone around me. But, when I caught someone's eyes, there were smiles and nods and understanding. I wasn't lost in the crowd, I was one with it. And there was more than a flicker of hope in this. There was a glowing furnace of embers, seething and pulsing with hope.
I know we have formidable foes in front of us - authoritarianism, racism, transphobia, homophobia, misogyny, classism, and the climate crisis. And Trump and Elon and their ilk have money, large platforms, and inflated egos and the amplification of what they are doing is so loud that it can be deafening.
That's why I needed to be present last night. I needed to be lost in the rain with people who gathered at the last minute, in a city still reeling from the damage and trauma of wildfires, to say, "No. Not here. I dissent."
I needed to see that there is a groundswell forming.
Trump, Elon, and their cronies are not the majority of our nation's population. But, they are depending on the apathy of the majority. They will continue to create enemies amongst us by targeting our most vulnerable marginalized populations (less than 2% of our population identify as trans for example) so that we don't realize that they are the true enemies of democracy. We cannot let them divide us.
Last night, I saw all of one moment of hate. A couple of 20-something white guys drove by in a truck and flicked us off with giddy faces. But their hate was so completely drowned out by the love being expressed that you could see their smug pride almost immediately deflate. They knew they couldn't even come close to making a dent.
So, if you're feeling sad or angry or afraid of what is going on in our country, I understand. I am too. And, if you can, I heartily encourage you to find a gathering of dissenting people near you, put your phone down, and be there. Bring your full feeling - all that sadness and anger and fear. Look into the eyes of some strangers, blink back some tears, give a warm smile, and nod. Then, lift that chin up.
You are not alone.
RSS Feed