People from every corner of the world joined together with one voice on Saturday to fight not just for women’s rights, but for human rights. It was a humbling, awe-inspiring, hopeful, yet sad and frustrating day. I find myself constantly wondering, “How the hell did we get here?” but for many, it’s really not that surprising.
I am a liberal, white, upper middle class, heterosexual woman. I work hard and feel passionately about a great many things, but my life has been relatively easy. I was raised by financially comfortable, progressive parents and had access to a good education.
I was born into privilege and it has followed me throughout my life.
My perspective is valuable and important, sure, but no more than anyone else’s. And it’s useless if it’s the only one I care about. I feel strongly, I’m loud with my opinions and I’m often certain I’m on the right side of history, but I live in a bubble. And I don’t mean that “coastal elite bubble” everyone on the news is blaming for the outcome of this election. I mean the separate bubble occupied by those of us who have never had to truly fight for basic human rights. I will never understand what it’s like to be a person of color and face racism every single day. Or how it feels to be told you’re an abomination because you fell in love with someone of the same gender, or felt like you were born in the wrong body. I hope I never have to worry about how I’m going to put food on my kids’ plates, keep the lights on, pay medical bills or get into a “good neighborhood” so my kids can receive a quality education.
Saturday’s march, for me, was about something bigger than one narcissist on his throne of ignorance. It was about stepping outside my bubble, gaining perspective, seeing the faces and hearing the voices of people who are both nothing like me and exactly like me. It was about showing my children I am willing to fight for what I believe. It was about human decency. The right to love freely, live without fear and have equal opportunity.
Marching was empowering, but it was easy, which means it wasn’t enough.