Why I’m Marching on Saturday


Marching doesn’t come easily to me, especially in January. If there’s an opportunity to protest while sitting down and having a cup of coffee, I’ll generally take that option. But sometimes you have to make a stand.

This Friday, the 45th President of the United States will be inaugurated. It’s a victory for all that is prejudiced, fearful and hateful. It’s a victory for misogyny, xenophobia and climate change denial. The handover from America’s  first black and feminist President to America’s first unqualified and tempramental President is one I find so painful to contemplate that every time I sit down to write about it, I get a strange kind of writers’ block. Not so Reuben, who had plenty to say on the subject of America’s next leader. He also supplied the picture at the top – note how “Kill Trump” has been neatly crossed out and replaced with “Arest Trump” after I pointed out that killing him might be a bit extreme.

Roo’s murderous fantasies aside, what can we actually do? Well, we’re joining thousands of others in Central London on Saturday to march, not just against Trump but against the gradual eroding of women’s rights this vote represents. All the details are here but the basics are – meet outside the US Embassy at 12:00, in time to move off at 12:30. It’s meant to be child-friendly and I believe there’s a kids’ area behind the Embassy, with craft tables and face painting so I’m taking that to mean it’s fine to bring my kids along. Have a look at some good tips here on taking kids to protest marches.

Besides. it’s their future we’re marching for. I want them to be able to live their lives, whatever choices they make. I’m saddened to read the stories of mixed-race or same-sex couples living in America who suddenly feel like they’re being judged and discriminated against just for who they’re in love with. Trump hasn’t even taken office yet and already people feel like their lives have radically changed. And sure, my kids don’t live in America and they’re barely even contemplating marriage yet but that’s barely the point. I don’t want them to be adults in a world that’s less tolerant than the world I’m an adult in today. I never thought it would all slide backwards this way, but I was wrong. 2017 is a less tolerant place to live in than 2016 and 2016 was a less tolerant place than 2015. It’s enough to make you weep. Or march.

See you there?

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