So there I was looking at a lot of pink hats and a lot of creative signs and a lot of extraordinarily pleasant people, largely female, but there was a fair representation of men and some children there, too. There were many rainbow flags. There were Muslim women in full dress. There were immigrants, with and without papers. Everyone showed up. And the mood was not at all what I expected.
My reluctance to participate initially was largely due to my abhorrence of what large crowds have been known to descend into. Violence terrifies me whether it's directed at me or not. I thought the crowd might be looking for Trump's blood. I thought there would be angry, shouting people shaking fists and turning red in the face. Well, Trump was certainly unpopular with the crowd, but most of them weren't wishing him any physical harm. What they made loud and clear was that they would not let him take away rights, or mistreat minorities, or take away healthcare coverage, or turn this country into a sea of hate without a fight.
But it was women. We do things differently. People were offering total strangers snacks. We were singing and laughing and talking to total strangers as though we had arrived together by plan. My favorite sign was "Kind is the new sexy." Do not mistake me. We were all dead serious and joyful in a strange way. We looked around and saw that we have power. Everyone was astounded by the turnout, by the tone, and by the dedication to keeping America civilized.
There was not one arrest. The Police Commissioner issued a press release thanking the crowd for their behavior.
The marches in other cities, including the one my son was attending in Washington,
D.C., were no surprise. When I later saw the accounts of supportive gatherings all around the world, however, I was moved to tears. And for the first time in a very long time I felt hope. And power. And the world will be very surprised at what the power of women united can do.