Marching in Boston

I hadn't planned on attending. Given my dislike for crowds combined with juggling logistics of caring for the Beats, I planned to cheer on my fellow sisters (and brothers) attending the Women's March from afar. What changed my mind was walking into the lecture hall we'll be teaching in and seeing the inauguration being broadcast over that big screen. I just about cried as I watched the Obamas make their way on stage. And the silence that found our entire group when the cameras panned to Donald Trump spoke volumes about the thoughts that ran through my brain.

Grey didn't miss a beat when I told him I thought I should attend. Even after a night with He-Beat being sick, he took over childcare responsibilities, free me to make my way into the city. For anyone who assumes men don't care about what is happening, I can assure you his actions demonstrate how untrue that argument is. Armed with cash, a transit pass and a cell phone, I set off to protest.

And though I didn't stay long (and unfortunately was unable to connect with friends due to poor cell service), what I saw returned my faith in humanity. After a day where I was sick to my stomach, I felt a renewed sense to continue fighting for what I believe in.

Justine posted a beautiful testimony as to why she marched. Today I marched in a similar spirit, to protest the new political establishment that is pushing an agenda that I'm morally opposed to. But the march was also a community building exercise. To see people from all walks of life come together to also openly support one another.

"Love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into a friend." ~Martin Luther King Jr.