I Carried Che

March 19th, 2007 § 0 comments

protest DC

My first American protest and the coldest day to be outside dawn to dusk. I consider it a large personal sacrifice for the cause. When I got home I felt completely exhausted, bruised rather than sore, and my arms were limp from trying to keep the wind from smashing my sign down upon the heads of the marchers in front of me. The march illuminated the dirty side of America, the counter protest made me think of Jill and her famous saying of agreeing to disagree peacefully. Verbal abuse, I find, is physically abusive. It seemed surreal that a whole group of men could be looking at me and without knowing me at all shout such filth.

protest DC 1

I was surprised and impressed by the diligence of many of the people who were there, at how much has been done and said that has not been covered by the media, all of whom were there, although the front page of the NY times the following day was college basketball. The march brought a feeling of slight hope to me, but even the energy of the march was disappointing. They, and I guess we, were not ready to fight for anything, we were paying lip service to a “cause”. Random chants floated about the crowd (most of whom could be my parents) that could not hold, and when we got to the rally ground at the Pentagon everyone lined up nice and orderly to use the portable bathrooms. Our protesters talked a lot about someone in office needing to grow some balls, and yet they would not even piss in the South parking lot of the Pentagon. It could have been a little treat for keeping us about a mile away from the actual building. I missed at this protest the energy of the Montpellier walks, simply because they seemed united. This country is divided, not in half, but in millions of little factions, perhaps that is why everything generic here can be so personalized.

the media

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