The Disappearing Protestor - 21/1/17

Today was the Womens' March. Around the world, they came. They stood, they spoke and shared their stories, their commitment to resist a declaration of war against their lives, their choices, and their human rights.

And d and I went too. And marched up and down the length of Cardiff Queen Street, not in hatred of the President, but in despair, and empowerment and solidarity.
There was the usual chanting, and some of that was focused against the single man who's been elevated to the Presidency, which is perhaps understandable, given his singularly astonishing record of sexism and mysogyny. But really, the extraordinary thing about the Womens' March is that by putting a face to a whole vein of opinion about what women should and shouldn't do, should and shouldn't be, Trump has galvanised women all over the world who normally wouldn't count themselves as 'political,' wouldn't classify themselves as 'feminists,' and galvanised allies across the board, painting in stark lines the battle of ideas and realities in houses and towns and cities across the US when it comes to the simple question of the freedoms and equalities that women have and should have.

It's miraculous, in a depressing sense, that in 2017, we're having to have these discussions again and again and again. I've been asking people since the March, why people would not support what I think of as women's rights to their own bodily autonomy. The results seem to be depressing, but also to represent a dichotomy between an older America, an America 'as was,' where religion had a stronger hold on many people than it does in a lot of the country today, and a newer America of gay rights, trans rights and all the social evolution of the last eight years.

We walked in support of the new America, the new hope, and the new understanding of validity and equality and what women are 'allowed' to be and do.

That felt important, even though it was mostly walking up and down Cardiff Queen Street.

From a Disappearing point of view, I have little information - my phone was off most of the day, and nestled in d's bag for even more of it. I did suggest, on the train home, that I should probably go on my now-traditional walk.
'No,' said d. 'You've been walking about all day. You don't need to walk more.'
I thought about arguing the point. Then I thought about walking an additional twelve thousand steps.

Annnd then I decided she was right.
So yay the Sisterhood. And onward with the Disappearing.