Million Man March. Women’s March on Washington. March for Our Lives.
Chances are, unless you have been living under a self-constructed underground bunker for the past 60 years, you have heard of each of these marches. While these marches each serve different purposes, they touch all of us in one way or another. You may not be African-American, a woman, or a child, but you likely at some point in your life worked with someone who doesn’t look like you, you were born from a mother, and you were once a child. If neither of those apply to you, then I will assume that what I have to say doesn’t pertain to you. I’m going to assume that it does.
When did it become necessary for Americans to feel that they have to march to our Nation’s capital in order to make their needs and concerns feel heard? I am all for peaceful protests and people standing up for their God-given rights, but why is it necessary? The last time I looked we are THE most free country in the entire world, made possible by our mothers and fathers and grandfathers and grandmothers long before us. But somehow we still have human beings who feel they have been left behind by our communities, our fellow Americans, our government. How did we let this happen? More importantly, what are YOU going to do about it?
I check all three of the boxes for the mentioned marches, the groups of people who feel most slighted by the laws and standards set in this country. I am a bi-racial daughter, mother of a 10-year old son. I would like to think that even if I wasn’t, I would still be sitting here writing this plea, serving as a voice for those around me who feel like their voice is too weak to make anyone listen, or that their screaming cries have fallen on deaf ears. But where have others lost their way? Those people who choose to be right in their own minds, instead of doing what is right for everyone, where did we go wrong? Is it fear? Is it arrogance? Is it pure, unrelenting ignorance and pride that make them feel they deserve to be right, that their freedom is more deserved than yours and mine?
I don’t have an answer right now, I just have a lot of questions. Questions that I’m not sure will ever be solved, but not for lack of trying. I am trying to answer frustrating questions that have been asked for as long as I have been alive and I’m sure will be asked by my son as he navigates this confusing, self-serving world. But if we stop asking questions, if we stop marching, if we stop making our voices heard, not everyone will experience the same beautiful, amazing feeling of freedom that we were promised by our ancestors. And that’s not such a great feeling.