She Doth Protest

Claiming our voices 

I participated in another protest recently on No Kings Day. I joined a group of friends over in the next city to be together with them.

It was interesting to notice, with a bit of surprise, that there was such an element of joy in our togetherness, in our feeling the same about what we were protesting, in our showing up and being connected. We were, and are, protesting something very significant and important, and in my opinion, dangerous. And here we were, with all kinds of signs, some of them quite creative and direct, I might add.

We chanted, we waved at cars passing by as they honked their horns in support, we marched down to the center of town, we listened to speakers and sang along with them, and we were united. Smiling at each other, taking photos of our signs, talking about what we needed to keep doing to change things, we knew that we must be visible and use our voices, our votes, our togetherness and the power of our numbers. 

I am humbled by all who came together. I felt, for the first time in a while, a glimmer of hope. There are many of us. We are not happy with what is going on and we are not quiet about it. 

We were such an inclusive group. There were immigrants, younger and older folks, gay, black, Latino, white, women, men, and children learning what democracy is about and actions that are needed. We were all together for one reason.

My background is one where my voice was quieted and discouraged. Children were to be seen and heard. As a daughter of immigrants, I felt pressure to succeed and do extra well in order to please my parents and represent them well. As a female, I was also taught that my voice was less significant, less powerful, that my role was to be a caregiver, to please, to be gentle, kind, and always giving, to not get angry, to not get loud, to not call attention to myself. 

Enough. Age has given me gifts. One of those gifts has been finding my voice. I am so grateful that it never left me and was only patiently waiting to be acknowledged and to be expressed. 

My role, even in my career as a social worker, was to be the caretaker. I took this role in relationships as well, quieting my own voice, even without being asked. It didn’t help the relationships at all because I wasn’t showing up. You can’t have a successful relationship if only one person shows up or uses their voice. 

These days I am embracing the words enough and no. I am enjoying the feel and protection of boundaries. Boundaries that I set…Imagine that!

I embrace finally claiming not having to please anyone, not having to worry about others’ opinions. I have finally claimed my freedom of speech. How ironic that as I have grown into this, my country is being threatened with having this precious freedom taken away. 

I must admit that for a while I have been in shock from all that is going on in our country and have reverted back to feeling helpless and powerless. Those childhood lessons die hard.

But, enough. No more. I will not give up what I have worked so hard for, and I will fight to have my country keep the freedom that it has fought so hard for. Is this county perfect? Far from it. Is there room for improvement? A lot. Does it need to be destroyed completely, given up to those few that want all the power and money and make empty promises to their followers, to whom they have lied to all along? No. No. No.

Enough. How wonderful to be part of a group that protests. And there were so many groups across the whole country. I will be an active member of this group. I will not give in to fear and I will not go back to being quietly submissive. 

Since that protest, there have been more distractions to take away that feeling of joy and hope. More chaos occurs every day. It is part of the strategy, I believe, to keep us off balance and distracted. We must stay centered and focused. We must remember the great number of us that showed up that day to express our rage, to hold hands, to help remind each other of who we have been, who we are, and who, I hope, can get back to. 

I am now an older woman, and I have had enough. I will continue, as long as I can, to hold hands with my fellow Americans, and I use that term very inclusively, to fight for what this country has always stood for and can stand for again, can fight for again, can get back again.