Marching on

I thought #15 would never get crossed off the list.

Be in a march?  Protest?? Please.  Maybe in Austin – a leftwing city suffocated in the middle of a rightwing state.  But Bend?  A town of 80,000?  Doubtful.

Not to mention the fact that I didn’t want to march in just any march.  It had to be meaningful.  Personal.  And important.

Then Trump got elected and women’s marches started popping up like champagne bubbles.  Big cities.  Tiny towns.  And Bend, Oregon.

It had the energy of a race.  Or a concert.  Bright clothes, bright signs, big smiles.  I saw moms pushing strollers, teenagers shuffling, and grandparents hobbling.

Families, friends and complete strangers converging in a park to show unity, before marching through downtown.  It was overwhelming and empowering.

Today, I marched for women.  We live in a man’s world without equal pay or equal treatment.  Double standards are not okay.

I marched for my kids.  I want them to know they can stand up to bullies.  Being a passive bystander is not okay.

I marched for my students, especially those who do not fall in the majority.  Whether its their race, religion, or sexuality, they deserve to be heard.  Oppression is not okay.

And I marched for me.  I will not sit quietly and condone disrespect, undervaluing, or passivity.

Together, I believe we will be okay.

 

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