by Brenda W. Clough
At least a couple dozen friends and fellow writers I know were at the Women’s March in Washington DC on January 21, but from first to last I never saw them — there were more people there than I have ever seen in my life (and I have been on the Hong Kong ferry during rush hour). It would have been easier to find a single grain of sand at the shore. Instead I marched with my husband, my college roommate Laurie Mann, and fellow BVC denizen Julianne Lee, who is going to post her own trip report soon.
Here we are in our rain-repellent gear, mine neon-yellow and hers navy. It did not rain at all, wasn’t even terribly cold. I carried all my signs downtown and after this photograph of them set them free into the wild, where I sometimes saw them bobbing in the distance.
The crowd was immense, record-breaking, and unbelievably diverse — there were people with dogs, people with children, even a couple with a two-month old baby boy. (I told them, “You’re crazy.” Mom said, “He needs to become politically active!” And Dad said, “It’s his baptism.”) Have a look at this photo of Julianne’s, which she took in our Metro car. A dozen little girls are in the charge of a couple adult women. They are wearing pink pussy caps and pink shiny superhero capes. On the back of the capes it says “Nasty Girl.” This really gives me hope for the future!
There were dozens more marches around the globe. If you attended one, tell me about it!