This weekend, I’ve seen all kinds of analyses on why President Donald Trump may have not gotten the inauguration turnout that he and his administration predicted. I’ve heard: “It was raining,” “White tarps give the illusion of having less people present,” “People have jobs” and an assortment of “alternative facts.” Whatever else may have been said, these factors unquestionably did not seem to apply the day after, when the largest organized protest in American history came to Washington, D.C. The Women’s March, which started as a small Facebook event, brought together millions people from every single continent in opposition to Trump and his sexist, racist, xenophobic, ableist and anti-science — I’m running out of breath — rhetoric and policies.
I’m incredibly proud to know countless, determined peers around the world who participated in this event. Charlotte Grussing ’19, for example, attended a march in London, England. Most, though, congregated on the East Coast. Allison Chou ’17 and Emily Patrick ’17 are two of the many Dartmouth students who made the trek to D.C. this weekend. There, 500,000 individuals assembled peacefully at the southeast corner of the National Mall. Chou told me that she wasn’t completely sure how far she was from open space during the entirety of the march — there were far too many people to be able to tell.
Chou and Patrick spent about four hours listening to speakers and three hours marching. Meanwhile, Julie Solomon ’17 and Caroline Cutler ’19 participated in the Vermont Women’s March. They, along with other attendees, were shocked as Sen. Bernie Sanders — a “special guest” — unexpectedly spoke at the event. His powerful speech reasoned that Trump’s bigotry has actually inspired a new, unconquerable determination in those who are brave enough to fight back. This mass mobilization of voices, many realized this weekend, is the true definition of democracy. Throughout these large marches, along with those in New York City, Los Angeles and even Antarctica, there were many common sights and sounds: clever protest signs, saturated orange Trump cartoons, catchy chants and bright pink “pussy hats.”
These rallies seem to be the poster-child for peaceful protest. However, no movement is perfect, and one could easily debate the intricacies of the relationship between trivializing Trump — “You’re orange, you’re gross! You lost the popular vote!” — and creating a positive and uplifting atmosphere. Indeed, one can even argue that the atmosphere was not an inviting one for people of color. At the D.C. protest, participants were so eager to march that the remaining speakers at the time, all women of color, were to condense their speeches to 30 seconds or less. Chou and Patrick both noted the disconnect between those who were aware of the importance of intersectionality in feminism and those who were not. When singer Janelle Monáe performed a song written specifically about police brutality against women of color, Chou noted that many around her were confused and unaware of these issues. Chou said that Tamika Mallory, Co-chair of the D.C. march, responded to this phenomena by urging those new to protests to look to black women and other marginalized people, for they have experienced this strife for decades. Furthermore, the “pussy hats” that caught so many eyes and inspired mirthful small talk in reality harmfully simplify the notion of womanhood to mean “having a vagina.”
I understand that there is a delicate balance between spreading awareness and potential antagonization. Yet, the frustrations of women of color and the LGBTQIA community are not unfounded. They are very, very real, and it is up to you to ensure that care for this movement does not end with your latest Instagram post. Continue to update your vocabulary, your empathy, your understanding and your dedication to the cause. Just today, a University of California, Berkeley sophomore messaged me, saying he “hopes that more of his fellow Americans recognize this and continue these acts of protest for marginalized groups, and not simply as a passing trend for personal validation.” Don’t let this march be a memory that you’ll simply look back at with pride. It’s bigger than you. Instead, make this movement last. Mobilize your peers, join the conversation and actually write to your senators. Good luck!
