Thursday, January 25, 2018

Why I march:It’s not about me

So, when I went to the Woman’s March on Washington, I wore what is commonly referred to as a “race bib” with my reasons for marching written on it. When I marched again in Fayetteville, Arkansas last weekend, I marched for the same reasons as last year, and an infinite list of new ones, as I have learned more over the last year.

With keen interest, I have perused coverage of this year’s marches, and again, I have seen the comments and responses by other women who do not understand asking why—asking what rights we don’t have that we are trying to get. Many of us who march, or simply speak out for what we believe is right are dumbfounded when we see and hear this kind of commentary. I know I can never imagine that these women have never had the experience of being discriminated against, or being treated inappropriately simply because of their gender. And it pains me that even if that happens to be the case, that they somehow don’t understand why having our own rights means that we should leave behind those who do not.

It also frustrates me that media outlets so frequently seem to run across that one person who either cannot articulate their reasons for speaking out, or one of many who choose to treat the importance of speaking out and marching as a novelty event.

You see, I am a white, middle class woman of privilege. I live a relatively safe and comfortable life. There have been moments in which that wasn’t the case, but on a day-to-day basis, I don’t have too much to worry about. That being said, I cannot in my heart look beyond myself, and not see the suffering and unfairness around me. I just don’t find it possible to ignore that the American Dream is not accessible to all Americans. And just as importantly, I cannot ignore our larger role in the world beyond our borders, and the way we impact the freedoms and circumstances of others everyday.
I have been sharing reasons why I march and speak out in my social media circles today. I doubt anyone who judges those of us who march as fools will find these issues of value, but again, marching and speaking out isn’t solely about me. It’s about justice, fairness, compassion, and doing what is right by others.


In the last year, hate crimes against minorities and members of the LGBTQ community have been at an all time high. Many Good and decent people who have lived in our country and contributed to making it great are in fear, because they came here as children with parents who circumvented legal channels. Black and brown people continue to be profiled, targeted, and killed by law enforcement, even if they have been cooperative. Muslims and Sikhs have been targeted by ignorant and hateful individuals who have been given the impression that anyone wearing a turban or a head scarf is a terrorist. Twenty-seven transgendered Americans were murdered last year, simply for being transgendered. Of those killed, 26 were people of color.

These issues are just a drop in the proverbial bucket. There seems to be an endless river of hatefulness flowing through our country—especially in the last two to three years.

We continue to see mass shootings in schools, public places and events, and we continue to see a government, owned by the National Rifle Association, refuse to act in a reasonable and rational way to restrict or eliminate access to assault weapons, and large ammunition magazines. We continue to see the healthcare of our citizens under threat because our politicians are also bought and paid for by big pharmaceutical corporations and insurance companies. Big oil money pays for our leadership to completely set aside scientific consensus that we are destroying our planet, and leaving a far more dangerous environment for our children through climate change. We live an unsustainable existence which harms humanity all over the world.

Yes, women have come a long way. Our marching predecessors fought and won us the right to vote. Many women were involved in the abolitionist cause, and in the Civil Rights Movement. We can wear pants to school—something my mother wasn’t allowed to do as a girl. We can work outside of the home, and own property. There have been many strides. But we have so much further to go in achieving equality, and some of the strides we have made are in danger of reversal.

Women’s reproductive choices are under threat—again. And when we talk about choice, it’s about so much more than abortion. Women’s fair and equal access to contraceptives is at risk. Maternity care coverage as a mandate is under threat. The idea that men or people who have differing beliefs about women’s reproductive choices shouldn’t have to support equality of care is ridiculous. The idea that healthcare for women should cost more than healthcare for men is a slap in the face to the equal rights so many say we have. I do not hear the same outrage about insurance companies covering the cost of medications for erectile dysfunction, and the care associated with men’s reproductive organs. And yes, we do march to protect a woman’s right to choose her reproductive path—not because abortion is the right choice for everyone, but because no one should be forced to have decisions made about their bodies by others.

We have seen some glimmers of possible change in the last year. We are starting to see that victims of sexual harassment, misconduct and assault may finally be able to come forward and not have their claims brushed aside by law enforcement and the media. It’s conceivable that the next generation of boys may be raised with the knowledge that girls and women can do anything they can, and that “no” means “no,” and more importantly the absence of consent also means no. We may be starting to see that the culture of looking the other way makes you a complicit accomplice when a predator has been abusing, harassing and assaulting for years. Perhaps one day, when a woman is abused or assaulted, no one will talk about what she was wearing. There is a long, long way to go, and these are truly just glimmers. There is still great disparity in sentences of white male perpetrators of sexual violence, and the sentences of men of color. Many women never receive the justice they deserve at all, or the compassion, and care that they need to recover.

Income and wealth disparity is crushing the middle class, and making the American Dream unreachable. The poor get poorer. Our seniors are still having to make tough financial choices at a time they shouldn’t have to worry about anything. We have veterans who have fought to protect our rights, and keep us safe, living on the streets, and suffering without appropriate healthcare.

There are so many more reasons why we march. And none of them are about me. And that’s the point. Caring about the greatness of our nation isn’t a slogan on a ball cap. It shouldn’t be partisan. I may be a white, middle class woman of privilege, but as an American, I don’t believe I have the privilege of taking what I have for granted, or sitting on the sidelines while people without those same privileges struggle and continue to suffer.

It’s not about me.

No comments:

Post a Comment