Scenes From A Marriage
Here are mine, will you share yours?
The very first time I attended a protest rally I was 17 years old. It was the summer of 1991 just after my high school graduation, in my hometown of Vancouver, BC. The purpose of the event was to draw attention to the aftermath of the Gulf War and the terrible, unjust loss of life and resources that it had caused (sometimes referred to as #noboodforoil). When I joined the protest I was just starting to learn that there were things I could do about bad shit going on in the world, big public things that could get attention and move the needle on important world issues. I moved to the US a year later, and since then I’ve marched, chanted, and peacefully demonstrated at dozens of protest rallies and events all over the country.
If you’ve never attended a public protest rally, you’re missing out! I know it’s weird and uncool and over-stimulating to be in a big, sweaty, somewhat uncontrollable crowd. But the feeling of camaraderie, love and goodwill in these spaces is unmatched. People help each other through all kinds of shit! Sun in your eyes? Here’s a spare hat. Thirsty? Here’s an extra bottle of water from our backpack. Got stung by a bee and breaking out in histamine hives? Use our extra EpiPen. Grandma’s wheelchair old and squeaky? Let us lubricate it with a bottle of WD 40 from our truck. Is your child cranky and tired? Here’s a gluten-free granola bar. Bursting with feelings and now tears are running down your face? Have a fresh Kleenex from our fanny pack. Overwhelmed by anxiety and need a time-out? Let us guide you to that shady tree over there.
These are actual acts that I have witnessed at rallies during the past 5 years. At this point I don’t go to these events to learn new facts about the causes I believe in. I’m in it for the human kindness that flows freely in the crowd, and to bask in the spirit of shared vision and purpose. Now more than ever, it completely slays me (by the way, in case you haven’t guessed, I’m the person bursting with feelings who gratefully accepted a fellow protester’s Kleenex!).
There’s something else you should know about rallies: the homemade art is fantastic. That’s me in the picture up top, standing between 2 giant tarot cards, The Tower and The Ace Of Swords. Enlarge it and look at the details. The artists have taken great care with the visual narratives of each one. Pretty amazing, right? You can walk around a protest rally like you’re in a folk art festival, and as long as you ask permission first, most people are happy to pose for pics. It’s fun!
OK, look: you may think that it’s somehow redundant, or even reductive, to gather with others who share common values (preaching to the choir, etc). But Americans have been doing it since long before the Founding Fathers wrote the first draft of the Constitution. The Founders understood how crucial this right is to our Republic, so they enshrined and protected peaceful public assembly and free speech under the First Amendment. When people at protest rallies chant, Show me what Democracy looks like? This is what Democracy looks like! they’re reminding us of that stone fact.
Since this administration took power for a second time, various media outlets have quipped that the President is treating America like an abused wife. I hate everything about this analogy, not least because it demeans and further stigmatizes the plight of real women who are trapped in dangerous marital circumstances. But I know one thing for certain: our commitment to Democracy must mirror that of a strong healthy, marriage. We can protect her and strengthen our commitment to her by showing up peacefully at protest rallies.
So please enjoy these scenes from our marriage, and send me your own!
Thank you for this post. My heart is so full. . Hand me a Kleenex!
Hearing about the community that forms during protest reminds me so much of the Nevada Test Site and Greenham Women’s Peace Camp—places where resistance turned into a kind of radical belonging. I was deeply moved to see over a million people gathered on Boston Common. But among the Gen X crowd, there was this collective weariness in the air, a silent, exhausted chorus: Are we really still doing this?