NEVERTHELESS, WE PERSIST
On January 21st 2017 I marched because it would have been so easy not to.
Because I can no longer watch, waiting for others to advocate for and acknowledge the contributions and enormous potential of women and girls.
I marched because I thought it was going to be a lot of fun.
I was looking forward to the wine at the poster making party.
The United States presidential campaign was full of sexism and misogyny.
Because the world is still terrified of women.
Not just powerful, smart, ambitious women but all of us “regular” women too.
The election results whispered “Know your place” and shouted “Anything! Anyone! But not a woman!”.
I marched because I’m excited.
Full of hope feuled by the sisterly solidarity the march embodies.
I was eager for the opportunity to walk my talk.
To say “We are here, I am here and she is here, get used to it!”. I marched because I’m tired.
Tired of women and girls - especially those of non white ethnicities - being the world’s lowest priority.
We marched with compassion. Compassion for women and girls who live in places where girls
are denied an education and the right to work outside their homes. Places where girls are cut and denied the right to choose when and who they might marry.
Places where women and girls can’t leave their homes without a male relative let alone march in the street for their most basic rights as human beings.
I marched, and will continue to do so, because I wanted to wear my Pussy Hat (Thanks Mom!),
my Nasty Woman tee, and my VERVE badge and bag.
I looked forward to the comradery and pastries at the pre-march party.
For the sense of achievement, champagne and pizza at the after party.
Because it brought me one step closer to being the type of woman I want to be.
The type who takes the time and goes the extra mile for someone other than myself.
The type who seizes any opportunity to set a powerful example for my children.
Because I want to be able to say “I was there!” and go down in history as a woman who had the courage of her convictions.
Why do you march?
Article by Anna Quick Palmer