"No human being is illegal"
Jan. 29th, 2017 11:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
browngirlThat's the poster I took today to the rally at Copley Sqare. I figured Elie Wiesel's wisdom was more than appropriate to bring with me. I wore a red hat with a feather which ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
acelightning made for me, and trembled in my boots all the way to the bus stop.
And then, on the bus, a lady saw my sign and praised me for going. On the Orange Line train I sat with others carrying bigger signs. The Green Line was packed with people holding signs and little children, and everyone was very convivial and polite and kind.
Unfortunately, Copley Sq Station was closed, so we had to WALK (o poor me) from the next stop up. An enterprising panhandler was working the crowd by saying "if you believe in change, spare a little?" which would have gotten some from me if I had any.
The rally was massive by the time I got there, filling the entire Copley green, stretching across the street to the library, and the trees were festooned with kids. There was a lot of chanting and cheering and so much politeness and kindness! Everyone was careful and helpful and just awesome.
And diverse, too. I wasn't the only Black girl! \o/ Seriously, it was wonderful to see a rainbow of people united against hatred. My eyes blurred with tears when I read "I'm here because the country let in my grandparents who were refugees." I even saw a little child holding a doll who held a lollipop sized Peace sign. BWEE.
There were MANY little children, and you know me and babies. I cooed and admired and thanked their parents for "bringing the future". I hugged several people. I saw a lady who looked just like Shepard Fairey artwork, star spangled hijab and all, and exclaimed as such, and she smiled at me in a slightly bemused manner. I made a point, not least as a little Black woman, of thanking the police for their service. I smiled until my cheeks ached sweetly.
I did this protest as if I'm rich and took just my folder/sign and my wallet, so I bought a burrito (I hope no one photographed me trying to eat it) and water. I need to assemble a Protest Kit and to sew a wallet/billfold pocket inside a Protest Bra. ANd to obtain a periscope.
I'm glad I went. I don't feel alone anymore. Whatever happens over the next four years, if I survive them or not, if my country survives them or not, no matter how many of us are forced to eat our words from today, we still said them, we will believe them even if we get beaten into saying otherwise (because that's all torture elicits, whether physical or emotional, is whatever stops the pain, not the truth), we gathered and we said it today and we meant it. We mean it.
Then, of course, I came home and fell over and slept for as long as I'd been out. Which is 98% amusing and 2% maybe-I-need-to-take-walks-and-build-up-my-stamina . 5%, maybe.
After all, the protest crowds will get smaller, the marches longer, and at some point (probably further away in Boston than some other places, but one never knows) running may end up being involved.
It deflated my sails to read about Bannon's ascendancy to the National Security Council, what the fucking hell, but I swallowed hard and reminded myself that this is why we're protesting.
It's going to get harder before it gets easier. I expect to see reports of truncheons and bullets deployed again before the year is out. I hope I don't see them in person, but everyone hopes that.
“I wish it need not have happened in my time," said Frodo.
"So do I," said Gandalf, "and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”
So. This is what I can do with the time given me. Let me gather my little strength, write letters and make calls, and get myself ready for the next protest.
acelightning made for me, and trembled in my boots all the way to the bus stop. And then, on the bus, a lady saw my sign and praised me for going. On the Orange Line train I sat with others carrying bigger signs. The Green Line was packed with people holding signs and little children, and everyone was very convivial and polite and kind.
Unfortunately, Copley Sq Station was closed, so we had to WALK (o poor me) from the next stop up. An enterprising panhandler was working the crowd by saying "if you believe in change, spare a little?" which would have gotten some from me if I had any.
The rally was massive by the time I got there, filling the entire Copley green, stretching across the street to the library, and the trees were festooned with kids. There was a lot of chanting and cheering and so much politeness and kindness! Everyone was careful and helpful and just awesome.
And diverse, too. I wasn't the only Black girl! \o/ Seriously, it was wonderful to see a rainbow of people united against hatred. My eyes blurred with tears when I read "I'm here because the country let in my grandparents who were refugees." I even saw a little child holding a doll who held a lollipop sized Peace sign. BWEE.
There were MANY little children, and you know me and babies. I cooed and admired and thanked their parents for "bringing the future". I hugged several people. I saw a lady who looked just like Shepard Fairey artwork, star spangled hijab and all, and exclaimed as such, and she smiled at me in a slightly bemused manner. I made a point, not least as a little Black woman, of thanking the police for their service. I smiled until my cheeks ached sweetly.
I did this protest as if I'm rich and took just my folder/sign and my wallet, so I bought a burrito (I hope no one photographed me trying to eat it) and water. I need to assemble a Protest Kit and to sew a wallet/billfold pocket inside a Protest Bra. ANd to obtain a periscope.
I'm glad I went. I don't feel alone anymore. Whatever happens over the next four years, if I survive them or not, if my country survives them or not, no matter how many of us are forced to eat our words from today, we still said them, we will believe them even if we get beaten into saying otherwise (because that's all torture elicits, whether physical or emotional, is whatever stops the pain, not the truth), we gathered and we said it today and we meant it. We mean it.
Then, of course, I came home and fell over and slept for as long as I'd been out. Which is 98% amusing and 2% maybe-I-need-to-take-walks-and-build-up-my-stamina . 5%, maybe.
After all, the protest crowds will get smaller, the marches longer, and at some point (probably further away in Boston than some other places, but one never knows) running may end up being involved.
It deflated my sails to read about Bannon's ascendancy to the National Security Council, what the fucking hell, but I swallowed hard and reminded myself that this is why we're protesting.
It's going to get harder before it gets easier. I expect to see reports of truncheons and bullets deployed again before the year is out. I hope I don't see them in person, but everyone hopes that.
“I wish it need not have happened in my time," said Frodo.
"So do I," said Gandalf, "and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”
So. This is what I can do with the time given me. Let me gather my little strength, write letters and make calls, and get myself ready for the next protest.
