I wrote this blog a week ago and intended to post it last Saturday – the day of the Bans off our Bodies Rally. I got distracted and because it was raining at the time of the rally in Nashville I ended up not attending with some degree of regret….
I just signed up for the Planned Parenthood Bans off Our Bodies Rally in Nashville on Saturday. This will be my first rally in Nashville. There is a chance of rain but hopefully not.
I graduated from high school in 1973, the year Roe vs Wade was decided by the Supreme Court. The right of women to choose if and when to have a baby has always been my MAIN issue politically. It is at the core of equality for women (in my humble opinion). I think it is hard for younger women to fully appreciate the ramifications of what is happening now.
One of the most impactful experiences of my life was the first Women’s March in January 2017. I learned of the Pussy Hat movement in mid to late December and knitted about 20 pink pussy hats and mailed them all over the country to friends and family members for the various marches. The slogans – “This is what America Looks Like” and “Women’s Rights are Human Rights” were powerful and all seemed possible that day. I knew it would be an ugly/challenging 4 years but I was prepared for what was to unfold.
I really had no idea what to expect when I got on the Metro to go to the March. My intention was to meet up with a friend coming in from Chicago but as was often the case in DC, I walked the wrong direction out of the Metro station. I was pretty early and there were women in pink pussy hats walking in every direction so it took awhile to figure out I had walked a mile in the wrong direction. I turned around with a plan to get to my friend and use the bathroom at our rendezvous point. As I headed in the right direction, the amount of people had increased tremendously and I found myself walking into a WALL of humanity with no way of moving further (or at least that was my perception). I was still several blocks from friend so I decided to stay put. Under ordinary circumstances, I would have thought I needed to pee, but the need vanished in the context a massive crowd and no where to go – a clear example of mind over bladder.
I found myself 20-30 feet to the left of the main stage. As I took in my surroundings I was overwhelmed by the number and variety of pink pussy hats on women, men, boys and girls.
While the vast majority of people I could see were women, there were more men than I expected and it was really fun to see dads with their daughters. Directly behind me was an older woman in a wheelchair. It was clear to see that this day was as important to others as it was to me. While I felt like I had no where to move, it became obvious that people could move out of the way when someone behind me got sick and medical people needed to make their way to her – clearing a path was possible.
The speeches were inspiring and the atmosphere was mesmerizing. I stood in place for over 4 hours. It took an hour after the speeches ended and the “march began” for there to be any movement close to the stage. My legs were tired and I had long since given up thinking about my bladder.
When I did get to the point where a port-a-pot was available, I was amazed by how little urine there was in my bladder given it had been at least 7 hours since I had last urinated. I was convinced the bladder lining must have been able to absorb liquid given my normal urine output after morning coffee.
Here is the pussy hat I kept in my office after the March until I pack it up last summer. This is one of the many things I did as a federal employee that I SHOULD not have done. I didn’t care and no one told me to put it away.
I also had a Bozo punching clown in my office for most of my government tenure. I didn’t physically hit it very often but I mentally attacked it often. Just knowing it was there was helpful.
The most lasting effect of that month leading up the Women’s March in Jan 2017 is the arthritis at the base of my left thumb. The pain is now minimal unless I try to knit again. Fortunately the index finger to thumb opposition is different enough for crocheting that I do not trigger the pain. When I tire of crocheting, I may need to see if I can find a different knitting technique that will not trigger pain.
It has been great to be out of DC area and let the chaos unfold without my vigilance to what I have no control over. I am so glad I am not preparing for yet another unnecessary government shutdown. I look forward to my first of many marches in Nashville on Saturday.
Tamara Unleashed 