... marching next to Sikhs walking beside Muslims , African American men beside Latinas .
My sister designed her sandwich board beautifully , and from what I could tell , she had it printed professionally . She was a graphic designer in her previous life , before running away to join the circus as a professor and fi ne artist in photography . She sent me the photo of her sign the night before , and was excited to be attending the nearest Women ’ s March to her in Riverside , California . I received the text while at a birthday party for a friend ’ s faithful , furry companion . In between bites of hummus , I scrawled on some large poster board with chunky , half dried-out markers ; my free-hand drawn diamonds somehow morphing into multi-colored , inconspicuous vaginas .
In solidarity , and as a little sister , I did what came naturally and copied the slogan my sister chose for her sign . She borrowed a phrase popularized by Netfl ix ’ s , Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt : “ Females are Strong As Hell .” I fi gured if we couldn ’ t march together in D . C ., then sharing the same sentiment from one coast to the other would have to suffi ce . She had classes to teach , and I didn ’ t have the dough for the trek . A handful of my girlfriends were fortunate enough to drive or fl y in together , staying with friends or family . Flight attendant friends were proudly sharing their photos on social media of celebrities , and entire planes of pink-clad patrons on their way to Washington .
As co-creator of the local feminist zine ReForm , this kind of shared community
Orlando Arts & Culture , v . 2.2 inspires and continues to drive me in what I do . One of our main goals is to make feminism accessible to all , with a focus on intersectionality . The prospect of joining other women to defend equality around the world was both thrilling and cathartic . When placed in the shadow of the current political climate and what that could mean for women in the United States and abroad , its poignancy and timing could not have been more important . My concerns were also directed within the very movement itself . I worried that this could be a rally and march that could bring more contention within its ranks . I was scared that there wouldn ’ t be enough space made for marginalized groups . People would march ,
... marching next to Sikhs walking beside Muslims , African American men beside Latinas .
but would they continue to resist after the posters had been thrown away and the fanfare faded a few days or weeks later ?
Saturday arrived and my friend Danny and I decided to take an Uber down to the Lake Eola amphitheater . My phone was glued to my hand , taking pictures of homemade signs while seeking out groups of friends so that we could all march together . The only other time I have ever seen that many people at Lake Eola was for the Gay Pride Parade . The normal humidity was laced with the electric resilience of the women and allies who were there — and those who came before us — as we
readied ourselves to continue the conversation and movement forward . Thousands of Central Floridians overfl owed the area with signs , booths , costumes , and strollers . There were little boys wearing t-shirts emblazoned with the word , “ Feminist ,” elderly grandmothers in ones that said , “ Pussy Power ,” all marching next to Sikhs walking beside Muslims , African American men beside Latinas .
As we marched , I thought about what this day would signify in our history . We could say that for one day , we stood up for what we knew to be right . For ourselves and for the generations of little boys and girls who are watching . The way we should every day , for one another , until everyone can truly breathe . Until everyone is judged by their merits rather than their sex . Until the oppressed are no longer considered less than , but equal .
We still have so many miles to go . Many more conversations to have . More phone calls to make . More space to give . More questions to ask ourselves , and more demands that we must make of those in positions of power who are to be held accountable . Years from now , I hope that we can reminisce fondly of the transformation that happened on Saturday , January 21 , 2017 . On that day , together , we marched . And on Sunday , January 22 , 2017 , we got to work .
You can see more at : @ ReFormZine
@ WayneOGrant
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