Back on the Streets

I imagine that if you, like me, are deeply disheartened by the dismantling of our country, it makes it yet harder to think that you are alone in your disbelief that this is happening. Even as you know in your head that it’s not true, it still feels like that. Reading others’ thoughts and acts of resistance on Facebook should provide comfort, but it’s more like joining a club of people who feel alone. Doesn’t dig down to the root of our need for collective communal response. 

 

But being out at the March today, as it was for me in 2017, was just the tonic I needed. Being physically shoulder-to-shoulder to so many concerned citizens with their clever and heartfelt signs crayoned on spare cardboard, walking together, chanting together, cheering together when the passing cars honked their horns—well, yeah!! All ages, genders, colors, classes and of course, running into alum teachers and parents from my school. Next time, I’ll gather my musician and music teacher friends to bring more singing to the venture. 

 

And may there be as many next times as needed to have our voices heard. It makes a difference psychologically, emotionally, socially and politically to feel our collective power and refusal to let money and hatred rule the day. They are counting on our hopelessness, our aloneness, our complicit silence, our escape into more shopping and binge watching, our shoulder-shrugging that we can’t make a difference. Refuse it! Resist it! Take to the streets! 

 

And next time, bring some drums.