Two of my daughters and I marched in the
Park City, Utah Women’s March on Saturday. Unity, hope, strength, love,
respect, and purpose fueled our gathering. Women, and a few men, marched for a
variety of reasons. Some were there strictly for women’s rights, while others
marched for marginalized groups in general. And though some women held signs
and chanted for pro-choice, this was not a Pro-Choice March. I didn’t see
anyone disparage fellow marchers for their chosen cause. No one defined the
right or wrong way to be a woman. We embraced our diversity. We united in our
quest for a better America. We unified in our protest against some of the measures
our new president has promised to take that will restrict the rights of our fellow
Americans.
I felt exhilarated taking part in this
historic peaceful protest with an estimated 3-4 million people world-wide. There
were plenty of smiles, pink hats, and woot-wooting. There was no violence, no
looting, and nobody was arrested. In fact, the angriest person I saw was a man
in a truck with “Trump” painted on his windows and a confederate flag sticker
on his bumper. He gave us a mean look when he saw our hats. That was the extent
of the negativity I experienced in Park City.
Yesterday, however, I saw plenty of
negativity on social media regarding the event. People are mad because . . .
I’m actually not sure why. Because we exercised our 1st amendment
right by peacefully protesting? Because women shouldn’t want anything different
from the status quo? Because we should “give Donald Trump a chance” without
voicing our concerns about his treatment of women, minorities, the LGBTQ
community, and people with disabilities? I felt confused when I saw negative
reactions to what I know was a positive, peaceful exercise in democracy.
I wonder if some people were turned off
by the march because they personally don’t see a need for it. Their lives are
pretty good. Why make a fuss? It is true that my personal life is very good. I
have a good job, an awesome family, I am respected in my profession, I have
health insurance, I can pay the bills, I don’t have to worry about my personal
safety from day to day, and the list goes on and on. But here’s the thing—I am
not America. I am one tiny facet of middle-class America—and I have it pretty
good. The people I associate with share that space with me. But there are a
whole lot of other facets of our country. I sometimes get a glimpse of those
other perspectives when I interact with disadvantaged students and their parents.
Single moms trying to make it on their own. Unemployed or underemployed parents
who just don’t have the advantages I often take for granted. Adults who have
emotional, mental, or physical disabilities that interfere with their abilities
to provide for their families. These are people who may not live in our
neighborhoods, but they live in our communities. Lifting the down-trodden helps
to make a better America. Standing up for the needs of the least of these
strengthens our society as a whole.
“March on Washington” events have been
happening for decades. This is not a new idea. Last weekend we celebrated
Martin Luther King, Jr. and his undying efforts in the Civil Rights Movement.
Most Americans admire Dr. King today, but when he was ceaselessly working to
correct the wrongs of our nation’s treatment of minorities, there was plenty of
negativity and resistance from the general population of the U.S. In fact,
after his “I Have a Dream” speech, which was delivered to 250,000 people during
the Civil Rights March on Washington, William Sullivan of the FBI said:
“Personally, I believe in the light of King's
powerful demagogic speech yesterday he stands head and shoulders over all other
Negro leaders put together when it comes to influencing great masses of
Negroes. We must mark him now, if we have not done so before, as the most
dangerous Negro of the future in this Nation from the standpoint of communism,
the Negro and national security.”
“Demagogic speech”? “The most
dangerous Negro”! This is someone most of us respect and admire. But doesn’t it
make sense that someone who was assassinated had haters? MLK had them. And it
was more than just the FBI. The peaceful marches he led didn’t work immediately,
and they weren’t simply accepted with a nod of the head and a change of
attitude from those who disagreed with his movement. Change takes time. I
suppose in his case, it even took a martyr. When the nay-sayers insist that
protesters be more like MLK, I’m not sure they understand the historical
context of his protest.
I would never say that women are
now in the same predicament that black people endured during the years leading
up to the Civil Rights Act. There is no direct comparison of plights. I do
believe, however, that the rights of all marginalized groups are threatened by
a Donald Trump administration. My participation in a peaceful protest was
largely because I believe in equality for all people, regardless of gender,
race, disability, sexual orientation or religion. A wall, a registry, a health
care law repeal, a threat to laws already in place to protect the rights of
marginalized groups—all of these things hurt America. “Alternate Facts” and
Twitter tirades hurt America. And a silent majority hurts America.
In Donald Trump’s
inaugural address on Friday, he said, “The forgotten men and women of our country will be forgotten no
longer. Everyone is listening to you now.” If he is listening to “forgotten”
voices, then yesterday’s activities should have sent him a message. Yet his
response on Twitter to the Women’s March was, “Watched protests yesterday but was under the impression
that we just had an election! Why didn't these people vote?” We did vote. Three
million more people voted against him than voted for him. He didn’t win the
popular vote. He takes office with an extremely low approval rating—just over one
third of Americans are satisfied with him as our president. The best that the
other two-thirds can hope for now is to raise our voices in unity and hope, and
do it again and again until we are heard. Change takes time. The need for
change is often met with resistance and misunderstanding. Donald Trump has
shown time and again his true colors of misogyny and bigotry. I can’t sit by
quietly hoping he won’t damage the rights of those I know and love. That’s why
I marched. And I will continue to march until we see the equality we are
looking for.