Why We March and Why Our Marching Will Continue

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You may have noticed a whole bunch of people waking up early one Saturday not too long ago, all sporting those quirky pink hats. They gathered together, armed with homemade signs, and maybe even shared a few breakfast goodies, like coffee and foil-wrapped sandwiches. There were loads of women, so naturally, someone brought out a tray of cupcakes to share.

Once they got off the buses, they melded into a massive crowd, united in purpose. Hearts swelled with pride as they joined the throng moving through the streets. Signs were raised high, and chants like “This is what democracy looks like!” echoed through the air. High-fives were exchanged with police officers, and cheers erupted for drivers giving enthusiastic thumbs-ups. The atmosphere was electric, filled with peace and camaraderie, with no chaos or arrests in sight.

But why did they march?

Perhaps you’ve thought about stepping in and saying, “Why protest? Things seem fine for you. Just accept the new administration and keep quiet.” Well, many of us weren’t marching for ourselves. Take me, for instance—I’m a white, educated, straight woman with health insurance and easy access to birth control, living in a cozy little forest. I’m not part of any marginalized group. Believe it or not, I didn’t rise at the crack of dawn to march for people like me.

I marched for others. At one point, a speaker in Denver asked everyone to raise their hands if they had ever experienced some form of sexual assault or unwanted touching. A heavy silence fell, and every woman I saw lifted her hand. Women of all colors, shapes, and backgrounds stood together. My friends and I were there with two young girls, eyes wide as they took in the sight of all those raised hands. What do you even say to them?

Yes, women in America enjoy many rights, but clearly, we haven’t achieved full equality, or there wouldn’t have been so many people springing out of bed that chilly Saturday morning to say “enough is enough.” If you can’t see that, maybe you’re white, straight, and have decent healthcare. Perhaps you’re too focused on your own situation to see the larger picture. If the sight of thousands marching makes you uncomfortable, maybe it’s high time you embraced that discomfort.

Disagreement is a beautiful aspect of democracy. However, the reason I marched alongside millions that day was that something feels deeply wrong. Normal political disagreements don’t send people into the streets with pink hats and signs. If a typical politician had taken office—one I might not fully agree with—I would have happily stayed in bed. But this isn’t typical.

I marched because I recognize the abnormality of our current situation.

I marched for our planet.

I marched for those marginalized.

I marched for the immigrants who come to this country just as my great-grandparents once did.

I marched so that I’ll always remember where I was that day.

I marched so my 5-year-old daughter never has to raise her hand in a crowd of raised hands.

There’s something significant brewing, and I won’t stop with just a march.

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Summary

This article discusses the reasons behind a large-scale march, emphasizing that it was not just for personal rights but for collective issues affecting marginalized groups, the environment, and future generations. It highlights the importance of recognizing discomfort in societal issues and the power of unity in activism.