When I moved to Washington on January 7, I had never taken
part in any kind of protest. While I understood their merits, there was always
something inside me that kept me from participating. My excuses ranged from
“I’ll trust the political process” to “I just don’t have the time.” As of
today, I have participated in two marches/protests and plan to engage in many
more.
My first introduction to this kind of civic engagement came
with the Women’s March on Washington, which occurred the day after President Trump’s
inauguration. I joined half a million people donned in pink hats on the
National Mall, and felt the energy of the crowd. There’s a certain kind of high
you get from being surrounded by that many passionate people. I walked backed
home hopeful about the future and ready to take action. I felt like my voice
was heard.
The first few weeks of the Trump administration have been
rather tumultuous as the president signs numerous unpopular executive orders.
When told I’d be living in DC during an “exciting time,” I’d never imagined
it’d be like this. Washingtonians are now accepting the weekly influx of
marchers and protesters as “the new normal.” On any given weekend the Mall and
Capitol Hill could be filled with people peacefully gathering and utilizing their
political voice.
This past weekend I even joined a protest unintentionally.
On a walk through the neighborhood, I encountered a large protest heading down
Constitution Avenue and up towards the Capitol (the exact direction I needed to
head home). I continued on my way and was slowly absorbed in the crowd
protesting the immigration ban targeting majority Muslim countries. I hung
around once they reached the east plaza of the Capitol, taking pictures and
reveling in the experience. Much like the Women’s March, I felt hopeful as I
stood amongst these people.
I FaceTimed my parents afterwards and they greeted me with
“there’s our little protester.” That is a title I am more than happy to accept.
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