The Women’s March on Washington, which took place on January 21 of this year, was an event that drew people from all over the country.  It was a day dedicated in part to protesting President Donald J. Trump, the language he uses when discussing women, and the policies he promised to enact once in office.  The infamous words, “Grab ‘em by the pussy” struck a nerve with many during the campaign season and became a summation of Trump’s brash and unapologetic character.  My mother and I went down to Washington to express our disapproval of the values the new administration embraces.  My mother is a single parent and a proud Wellesley alum.  She strongly identifies with Hillary Clinton and has always believed and participated in civil disobedience.  I, on the other hand, am a first-time voter and very conscious of the effect Bernie Sanders has had on my peers, energizing their enthusiasm for politics; as a result I have not yet become quite so resolute in my opinions.  In my attempts to become an informed participant, I read many articles detailing the discourse surrounding the March, both those for and against it.

The March began as an idea on Facebook, ironically the same social media platform accused of facilitating the spread of misinformation that further divided members of the Democratic and Republican parties and aided a Trump victory.  Designed to echo the peaceful resistance methods of the Civil Rights Movement, the Women’s March was meant to unify women and feminists from diverse backgrounds against a common adversary.  For people blindsided by the election results and feeling compelled to act, the March offered the tangible and immediate relief of action.  Young voters, for whom this was their first election, could now participate in what was possibly their first protest.  Older voters who have been fighting sexism for decades could match a new face, an orange face, to an old problem.  Even so, there were many critics of the March who claimed that the issues on the table were not intersectional and failed to address the diversity of modern American identity.  People showed concern that the March excluded people who didn’t identify as female— a response to increasing awareness of transgender and gender non-conforming identities.  Following the conversations started by important social and cultural moments, such as #OscarsSoWhite, the release of “Master of None” on Netflix, Beyoncé’s “Formation” video, and Trump’s use of the phrase “bad hombres,” the call for representation was especially crucial.   For many, this March seemed to fall short of being as inclusive as it could have been.  On the other hand, the idea of a Women’s March became a catchall for minorities and anyone taking issue with Trump.  For this reason, it felt as though no two people were marching for the same set of reasons.  I see this as an example of American diversity, while others saw it as a hindrance to the success of the March.

Prior to the March many articles surfaced on social media about people abstaining from the March because it didn’t perfectly align with their needs.  Some of those people expressed their desire to have the March itself, and by extension all the participants, officially recognize and address their personal hardships, which could often be explained through categorical descriptors like race, economic status, and sexuality, among others.  This became manifest as many Marchers were accused of white feminism, a term that suggests white feminists fail to acknowledge that the difficulties women of color face are very different and disproportionately worse.  White feminism also points to the fact that the face of the feminist movement is too often white. For example, from what I could tell, Gloria Steinem’s presence was widely publicized and she was the most highly anticipated speaker that day.   Despite the fact that March organizers gave away posters depicting a Muslim woman, a Latina woman, and a black woman to those who came without signs, I couldn’t help but notice most people in the crowd were white.  Some protesters held signs that reminded Marchers that 94% of black women voted against Trump while the majority of white women voted for him.  On the day of the March I sensed many separate factions protesting under the umbrella ideas of equality and representation.

Even so, I think the large public expression of feminism seen at the March was a long time coming.  The trend of celebrities embracing feminism shows that the movement is now a part of mainstream consciousness.  What I find interesting is that in our current political climate no one can become a feminist slowly. To avoid being judged and criticized as fake or discriminatory, each participant had to be all-inclusive and well-versed in the vocabulary, history, and current concerns specific to any given minority group.  I think this is too tall an order for any person, let alone a group numbering several hundred thousand.  Generally, anyone who begins to think about social equality thinks first in terms of themselves, grounding their understanding in concrete examples, before shifting their perspective to others. This process takes a lifetime.  Complaints about the March, which minimized its valiant and in some ways successful attempt at fellowship, seemed to stem mostly from impatience.

I have three white female cousins from Tennessee, a place that does not generally support feminist thinking, and despite this two of them attended the March.  Although they are new to feminism, they are beginning to get involved.  Progress is progress.  To me, the March was about showing an impressive force of resistance against Trump, and that required bodies.  While not everyone there was satisfied or in complete agreement, still they showed up. On the March and the days that followed the cacophony of voices asking to be heard – including the voices of my cousins – is both overwhelming and encouraging. I think that is a step in the right direction.