Why I Will Be Marching

Like many people, I am still in a bit of shock over Donald Trump’s rise as “politician” and his subsequent victory to the position of president. There are many emotions I could express and share that went along with that shock, but I think those emotions not only fail to make change, but succeed in driving a bigger stake between parties. Or, more accurately and upsettingly, Americans.  

I think the thing that upsets me so much about this election and its results is how different it feels we all are now. How we all think. I know, rationally, that most often there is more that unites us than separates us. But at this moment in time, it sure feels like there is a huge fucking gap between what I think and what many others think. And, while weeks ago I would have defined the feeling that went along with that realization as ‘anger,’ now I would describe it as sadness on the verge of numbness.

How can we be so vastly different when it comes to protecting our fellow humans? Our neighbors? How can I be so terrified that our beautiful way of life as Americans -- creative, diverse, free, innovative and provocative -- is being challenged by a country like Russia while others feel it would be good to be like them?

I think A LOT about where we are today and where we are headed tomorrow (and after). I am an avid consumer of information, insatiably curious about what is happening around me. And why it is happening. I do have hope that things will not be as bad as I have imagined they will be in my mind. And, maybe they won’t be. That could very well be true.

But… they could also be as bad or worse.

As I have read about things that happened in the past, I have always wondered to myself what I would have done. In Germany, would I have fought for my Jewish neighbors? Would I have opened my home for them to seek safety and shelter from the heinous crimes being waged against them? Decades later, in our own country, when our fellow Americans -- those with brown skin -- were being forced to sit at the back of the bus, beaten in the streets and treated unfairly, would I have crossed the “race” line to stand hand-in-hand with them and fight for their equal rights? I hate to even think that I might have sat on the sidelines and “hoped” for things to change. Or grateful that I lived in a sheltered place where I didn’t have to physically see any of the inequalities being waged on other human beings.

To many, these examples seem harsh, unrealistic and even exaggerated. But to many others like me, they are hitting frighteningly close to home. Our incoming president has spewed so much vitriol and hatred for certain races and religions. Muslims. Blacks. Mexicans. Women. People who live next door to us. Kids who attend school with our children. Men and women who keep us safe in the military. Contribute to our society. We are seeing so much anger, hatred and ignorance aimed in their direction. Our brothers and sisters are scared they will be thrown out of the country they call home. They are making plans should they be forced out. Plans for who will take care of their children and their homes. That’s the conversation they are having around the dinner table.

My life, my home, my family and my children are no more important than theirs. Their lives are not worth less than mine.

I need to fight. To stand up for those at risk. I cannot wait until it’s too late and people’s homes and lives have been destroyed.

I need to stand up for what’s right. As a woman, I have had plenty of instances of discrimination. Of harassment. Tomorrow, a man will be sworn into the most powerful position in the world who has publicly defamed women. Who assigns a woman’s worth based on how physically attractive he thinks she is. He has insinuated that a woman who he saw as being unfair to him was on her period. Because he had to thump his chest and put the (lesser) woman in her place.

I am strong. I have a voice that I am not afraid to use. And, at least today, we live in a country that allows me to use that voice, and so I must.

I have a choice. I can sit at home and hope quietly, or I can get off my ass and shout until my voice becomes hoarse and walk until my legs get weak. I can show my sons what freedom looks like. And how to fight for what’s right. I can demonstrate for them a peaceful way to bring change. That being a human on this earth means we are responsible for each other. That when our brothers and sisters are being threatened, we don’t sit back and shut up. We stand up and shout until we’re heard.

This is a big moment for Americans. Women. Men. Black. White. Asian. Muslims. Christians. Jewish. Mexican. (To name a few.) We need to band together to show that we will not let hatred win. Our country was built on hope, and that is what we need to build our future on.

My mind and heart are open. As are my ears. I will remain hopeful but vigilant. Peaceful but ready to fight. This is my march. This is our march. I walk for peace, respect, freedom and love. I walk for my country. Our country. One that is already great. And I look forward to joining hands with those who have made it that way.