This weekend we engaged in a local Women’s March. This local march was one of hundred’s of sister marches to the giant one being held in Washington, D.C. My original plan had been to travel to Atlanta to march, but change starts locally and I was super excited to find that we had our own little march.
I say little, but that’s not accurate. So far I’ve seen a couple of local sources that estimated the turnout at 600. If asked how many I thought were there, I wouldn’t have even come close to that number.
The march was an incredible experience. El got to learn even more about what activism looks and feels like. Big B sported his own Pussy Hat like a champ. I’d spent the days leading up to the big day making sure that each of us had our own hat to wear.
The weather was just awful. The rain let up just enough for the us to get started but, by the end, we were being pelted with big, fat, steady raindrops and we were all soaked to the bone.
If you marched, wherever you are in the world, I hope the day had a positive impact on you. I hope it gave you hope…I know it did for me.
An Imbalance of Humours 