I traveled to Washington, D.C. for the Women's March with 13 other women. Most of us were white women--privileged but committed to exercising our privilege to demand equal rights for all women at our nation's capital. We were two sets of mother-daughter pairs. We were an African American woman, a Sioux woman. We were a lesbian couple. We were sisters. We were students and activists and hopeful.We all had different reasons for marching. I marched for reasons of faith. The march itself may not result in change, but it is symbolic: it represents a commitment to action and allyship. I marched because I am faithful to God and to the people God loves. For most of the mothers among us, it was for their kids. They marched to make a better world for their sons and daughters, to tell their children why it is so important to engage. I was surprised and even a little upset when Nana told us she doesn't vote. "I don't vote, and my kids know that," she said. "But I want them to know I'm fighting for them through my actions."
(Part of me wanted to take her to task. You have to vote! You have to! But when she explained why--she's never seen how it's made a difference on the streets, people's lives aren't getting any better--it made sense. Voting does make a difference, but for many people it is only an act of solidarity, an act of trusting that for someone the vote will matter. The trouble is stepping out of your own experience enough to see how a vote will impact another person's life. The same problem pervades the attitudes of the comfortable, white women, who claim movements like the Women's March to be irrelevant--"I don't need feminism! I have always felt equal!" These women have never experienced the hardships that result from certain policies. Women like Nana have experienced these hardships but have not seen the vote change them.)
There were a lot of white women at the march, so it was good that so many of the speakers were women of color--Asian American, African American, Latina. The diversity of perspectives represented by the speakers blew me away and was a reminder to the white women in the crowd that when it comes to adversity, people of color, LGTB people, and religious minorities in the U.S. are disproportionately affected. The issues brought to the march are felt by them the most. One speaker said something that really stood out to me: "When you do not know what causes on which to focus your efforts, when you aren't sure what the problems are, follow a woman of color."
I'm still processing some things. Like how much the march focused on women's reproductive health issues, especially when it came to the crowd's priorities (so, so many signs with uteruses, vaginas, and boobs!). Like how the longest chunk of speaking time was given to the only white male speaker. Like how quickly the march was commodified: "Buy this t-shirt! Let's turn this movement into something we can market and sell, using resources that damage the planet and exploitative labor!" I'm still confused about how one can got to a protest, shouting, "No DAPL!" and carrying a case of Nestle bottled water. Maybe it's too much to expect that activism be an even progression on all fronts.
