I Attended The No Muslim Ban March And Loved Every Bit Of It
Alyssa PorteraFebruary 7, 2017547 Views0
Is anybody else tired? A little bit scared? Really exhausted? Stress-eating pizza rolls (ok, that one is probably just me…)?
18 days. That is the amount of days that President Trump has had to govern this country, and I tell you what, it feels as though it has been a damn lifetime. I like to think of myself as an educated, informed, and well-read (at least with politics) American citizen. I can’t keep up. I find myself in bed checking Twitter and all of a sudden it is 2 am, I am crying about how insane it all feels, and I can’t physically find the ability to sleep thinking over the fact that my president is using Twitter to publicly cause disruption and mislead the American public….but I digress. I findmyselfexhausted—how does the single mom feel? Or the family with a bunch of kids asking questions? Actual journalists trying to keep up?
I could spend the next few paragraphs going over everything that has been outrageous since he became president, but I can’t bring myself to go back over all the atrocities. That’s what they want, most likely. They want me to be tired of reading about it, to become numb to the chaos, to feel like no matter what I do it won’t make a difference. I am tired, but that won’t stop me.
Moving to DC, I realized I was entering a politically charged zone. One where I would have to find my voice and opinions. One where people around me would actively care. Saturday, while *literally* just strolling through the city, my boyfriend and I decided to walk down to the Mall. It was gorgeous day, the sun was shining, and we would walk past all of the DC things tourists have to see. Immediately after deciding to walk, we stumbled upon the #NoMuslimBan2 March.A march, that despite my involvement & trying to stay as engaged on Facebook as one can these days, I didn’t know was happening.
I looked at Nick and told him that our plans had changed—I was here now and there was nowhere else I wanted to be.
You want to not feel sad anymore? Want to feel empowered again? Want to see what Democracy actually looks like? Get out there and started marching. I had tears in my eyes within minutes, looking around me seeing all of these people giving up their Saturday (two weeks post Election!!!!!) to take a stand against the lunacy coming from 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. I do regret missing the women’s march,but there is something stunningly beautiful about people coming together, outside of the main event for the week-to-week "scrimages" showing that this resistance was not, is not, and will never be a one-time thing.
There were thousands of people there. Children, elderly people, Muslim people, Jewish people, White people, Black people, Men, Women, LGBTQ people, Republicans, Democrats—Americans. We were all together, we are all feeling the same way, and there are a lot of different reasons we might be protesting (as this administration hasn’t made it easy to pick just one thing that pisses you off). But we were together. People were carrying signs that gave me life again.
These baby hands below were by far my favorite
Signs that made me laugh when I didn’t want to laugh. Signs that brought tears to my eyes. Signs that made me believe in people again. Chants that brought thousands together to let our President know that Love Trumps Hate—ALWAYS. I spent the next 2 hours marching from the White House to the Capitol Building. Passing the Monuments, passing Trump Tower, surrounded by people who made me believe again in the good of this world; holding the hand of someone I love surrounded by people who love this country and what it stands for. People who are also sad, exhausted, depressed, and upset, but they too realize this new normal—of resistance and dissent against what is blatantly wrong. That this is what you fight for. This might be an inconvenient normal to my weekend plans, and it might be a normal that demands more from me. But as one sign poignantly pointed out “I am too lazy for this shit, but I am still here.”
I was marching for a lot of reasons, but ultimately and maybe the most important, was that I was marching to remember why I believed in America. And no, President Trump, I won’t be stopping anytime soon. I am not paid to do it, and I will never stop fighting for humanity. Kindness is the rent you pay for your room here on earth; you would do good to remember that we are all equal.
PS: I was also Marching to protest the Muslim ban. I could say a lot on that subject but I just want to leave you with this final thought (pun intended)—-If you replace the word Muslim/Islam with Jewish, ask yourself “do I sound like a Nazi?” Because you do—you 100% do.
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