Last week we marched. We marched in Maine and we marched in D.C. We marched with other Women’s March organizers, marchers, donors, and allies. We marched mad! And then we went home. Except a handful who did not.
That hand full, or really two handfuls, of folks still around after the march were the organizers. They are the folks who made the logistical arrangements for the march you walked. They raised the money for the bus, plane, train, and all varieties of travel accommodations, accessibility services, heaters, porta potties, event insurance, and so many other expenses. They made the march accessible and intersectional. They supported the artists, makers, volunteers through months of their contributive work. They got on calls every week multiple times a week to coordinate a global effort. All to say to those that couldn’t look away, couldn’t just stuff their fingers in their ears, that we are still here.
On Sunday 1.20, when I rolled up into a small room in a hotel with two tables of folks and two puppers, I was surprised. I looked around and saw absolutely that there are no wizards of Women’s March. No magic. There is no infrastructure with a massive scale to execute all this coordination. No machine. I looked around the room and confirmed what I thought was just unbelievable so it couldn’t be true – it IS just us.
I know that what I do for Women’s March and the Women’s Agenda feels small. That I am just me, and that what I do cannot possibly have an impact. That is a lie I tell myself. It is a lie I have carried with me for a long time. That I am not big enough, important enough, rich enough, have enough time to make an actual noticeable difference. And every time I step into a room with the people who contribute and guide this work I am corrected. I don’t need to lie to myself. I am not small, unimportant, less than, and I make things happen with you and the rest of us. And I think anyone of you can too. Small efforts with big outcomes are in all of us. Join us.