A peaceful, magnetic and hopeful crowd protests in Seattle
Confession: I decided to join the march last minute. I had a long week leading up to inauguration day (shitty excuse) and fell into bed Friday evening hoping I’d wake up in an alternate universe. One where the defeat and angst worn by so many Seattleites and Americans around the country would be answered by the tiniest glimmer of hope. As it turns out, when I woke up on Saturday morning ready to roll out my protest A game – so did nearly every woman, child, and thoughtful man in Seattle. My city picked itself up, dusted itself off, and showed up as fierce and determined as ever.
I was pulsing with adrenaline as we got on the crowded light rail headed for the International District, and curious if things would escalate like they had the day before. When I stepped out into the sunshine and felt the excitement and energy building from a sea of protesters in pink pussy hats – I knew it would be a beautiful and peaceful, profound day.
I was not only blown away by the number of people in attendance, but also the vast number of young millennials and children with their families.
Nearly 175,000 people came out to walk from Judkins Park to Seattle Center, in a nationwide movement that crushed expectations, and emerged as the biggest protest in US history. I met so many amazing women who were inspired to come out for a number of reasons. They marched because their mothers and grandmothers fought to get them to where they are today. They marched for their children, and their children’s children. They marched for equal pay and opportunity, and for the right to choose what to do with their bodies. They marched because black lives matter. And Native American lives matter. Muslim lives matter. And LGBT lives matter. They marched for those who couldn’t march and most importantly, they marched in unity for each other.
As we walked down 4th avenue, cheers started rippling through the crowd and in that moment, I felt connected to each and every voice. Like many Americans, the aftermath of this election has felt personal, and left a crushing weight on my shoulders, and festering hole in my heart. But I spent the afternoon in a haze of joy, and more empowered and hopeful than I ever expected. January 21, 2017 may have been a blip on this presidency’s radar, but it’s clear every nasty woman in America knows how to make an impact and this is only the beginning. Ok ladies, now let’s get in formation. 🙂