This weekend I marched in Washington, DC, with my younger sister, in a contingent with hundreds of immigrant women, women of color, domestic workers, Native American women, and grassroots environmental activists. Like so many who attended the Women’s March, I was awestruck to see the sheer size of the march, the number of women who mobilized — many of whom had never before attended a march — to proclaim their commitment to fight back against attacks on our bodies, our families, our communities and the planet. It was an outpouring of bold opposition.
I witnessed a powerful appetite for action: the desire to not just talk about it, but to put ourselves — our bodies — on the front lines of opposition. More than 700 women gathered immediately after the march for a Women’s Town Hall. Exhausted from hours of walking and chanting, but energized by the momentum and spirit of resistance, we got to work. We started to answer the question: where do we go from here?
For those of us who are committed social justice activists or organizers, the sheer scale of this march was awe-inspiring. It gives us hope, a necessary antidote to despair. And this is no time for despair.