Yes, you read that correctly.  Today was the first day I’ve ever participated in a peaceful protest march.  I’ve walked for charities—AIDS research, cancer research and the like—but I’ve never before marched in protest.  It was an amazing experience that I will cherish always.  After experiencing the magic of this particular event, I plan to do many more in future.  More than that, it has inspired me to be more active in my community as an organizer.

If you plan to participate in an event like this, here are a few things to consider.

Preparation:

  • Register ahead of time so organizers can prepare for crowd sizes appropriately.
  • Read all the material and make sure the event is in alignment with your personal convictions. (It should go without saying, but it doesn’t.)
  • Sort out transportation—carpooling, and/or public transportation are the ideal methods as they reduce traffic and the burden on local officials.
  • Form a group of buddies to attend with you or join a group you already know is going.
  • Ladies, ditch the bag. Grab your driver’s license, cell phone, a bit of cash, maybe a credit card, and your insurance card.
  • You might get hungry. It’s going to be a long day.  If you are in a group, take one small back pack, grab some fruit and energy bars and leave it at that.  Take turns carrying the back pack.
  • Wear comfortable clothing and running shoes. Dress in layers and make sure you wear something with pockets.
  • As a precaution, organizers recommended writing emergency numbers on your forearm using a Sharpie.

As you may imagine, getting to and from an event that is already predicted to be large and ends up being seven times as large is not easy.  We were advised in our case to park near Universal Studios and grab the metro from there to Pershing Square—a completely reasonable idea.  Fortunately, we got there early so we managed to wedge our way into the first train that arrived.  Yes, I said wedge.  “Holy crap we’re packed in here!” wedged.  That was right up until we took on more passengers at each of the next four stops.  Upon arrival at the station my friends and I breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Arriving at the venue we once again quickly became crammed together like sardines.   The first thing my friend Sylvia and I looked for were porta potties.  We found them.  Then we found the end of the line for them wrapped ALL the way around the block.  Neither of us wanted to wait in that line and we figured we would encounter other bathrooms along the route.  We had no way of knowing how many hundreds of thousands of people would materialize, nor that there would be any bathrooms along the route, rendering any possibility of a place to pee that didn’t involve squatting in bushes utterly unattainable.

After meeting up with my friends’ son and his friends, we wriggled our way through a sea of people to a place where we could listen to the opening addresses to the crowd.  The opening speeches went on for well over an hour and half and were largely inspirational but also largely repetitive.  We took in the sights: people of both sexes, all races, many religions, the LGBTQ community; we admired and laughed at the various slogans and creative expressions–one group of gals mounted large, painted phoenixes on their selfie sticks–and began conversations with random strangers over their clever ideas.

Many groups lined the sidewalks with instruments, posters, and even dogs, shouting out chants in a call-and-return style for those of us walking to join in on as we passed.  Huge crowds of people gathered on rooftops to gaze down over the route shouting encouragement.  Drones were everywhere taking bird’s eye videos. People in apartment buildings hung out of their windows clapping and hollering.  There was a gal who was sitting with one leg dangling out of her 6th story window sill and the other foot on the sill itself, alternately watching the march and reading her book.  Some marchers next to us broke out in chant, “Hey, hey!  Ho, ho!  Please don’t fall out that window!” which they repeated several times.  That garnered a laugh from many of us in earshot.

I’d like to take a moment to emphasize that this entire gathering of souls, while not going off without a hitch due to a far greater crowd than anticipated, was completely peaceful.  In fact, to my knowledge, the marches that went on in all 50 states and indeed around the world were completely peaceful.  No threats.  No arrests.  No violence.  This is what democracy looks like.  It is a group of people with clear heads, a bit of intelligence, and a few notions that reflect the ideals upon which their country was founded.  It is making sure we remind those who govern us that they work for us, and those ideals need to be assiduously adhered to and regarded with respect and care.

I learned a few things today.  Among them are:

  • The great value of going to such an event with good friends who are a lot of fun and can roll with the punches.
  • Go light. Carry as little on your person as possible.
  • Hundreds of thousands of people crammed together for hours on end in cramped quarters are perfectly capable of behaving in perfectly lovely, thoughtful and caring ways.
  • It’s more loving than scary.  Don’t be nervous.
  • We, the people, simply by showing up, are capable of pissing off a new president enough to receive petulant remarks from him on Twitter.
  • Never pass up an empty porta potty.  It might be the last one you see for eight hours.
  • There are a lot of comedians out there writing hilarious protest signs and coming up with some rather creative ways to draw out the other comedians in the crowd too.
  • We need more comedians.  I have a sneaking suspicion we are going to get them.  After all, there is already enough material to fill the capitol rotunda.

Most importantly, we accomplished something on January 21, 2017.  We incited the ire of right wing males.  They made snarky comments online like, “What more do they want? Free mani-pedis?” and “My shirts aren’t going to iron themselves.”  Boys, you just embodied one of many reasons we marched.  The fact that you just couldn’t help yourselves, that you actually had to express your sexist inner Jr. High self, means we touched a nerve.  It means we are getting somewhere.  And it tickles us that we did so.  Therefore, keep the snark coming, boys.  We’ll keep marching, organizing, working in our communities and building our power base.  When you start telling the c**ts to sit down and shut up or else, we’ll know we are at a tipping point.

Conversely, our deepest and sincerest thanks goes out to all the men who marched with us, who supported us, who love us deeply and truly, who high-fived us at day’s end, who stand with us in recognition of the true perils we face and which, indeed, our entire world faces.  You are a treasured gift, and you remind the rest of the world what a true man looks like.  The women of the world who are lucky enough to call you friend solute you with a grateful heart.  You are gentlemen all.  Thank you.  And to those who stood in solidarity with us throughout the world, we are deeply touched by your efforts, by your compassion, and by your fiery spirit.  It is incredibly rewarding to know that we can stand together.  It gives all of us hope.

I call that a win.