Today I found out that I'm classless.
That I "don't know what a real woman is like."
That I "have no self respect" or "common-sense."
Today I learned that I am a pig.
On Saturday I marched in a Women's March that was held in Wooster, Ohio. I knew that after this very divided election that I must march; that there was never any other choice for me. My husband gave me a kiss and told me to knock 'em dead up there.
I met up with several other ladies and we arrived at the square. For two hours we felt solidarity, love, and people speaking words of unity. I'm mostly a semi-introvert who writes words from home. We all had our reasons for marching, and I didn't need this march to find somewhere to belong. I needed to do it to stand against hateful words, and for those who have no voice.
There's a quote by Albert Einstein that says, "If I were to remain silent, I would be guilty of complicity." I had never marched for any issue before, so it was daunting for me to get out there and do it. But I work hard: hard at my job, at being a wife and mother, and to be someone who doesn't silently stand by and let others voices call me classless and vulgar, while mine is silent. For the voices who say to "get off your ass and quit whining."
I marched for my Mexican husband who loves me unconditionally. I marched for the undocumented and the documented, who are all worthy of receiving dignified treatment because they're human. I marched for all Mexicans who have been demonized in the public eye for the past 18 months, who have struggled and lost work because of the color of their skin.
I marched for my kids so that they could see a mother who loves them completely and wholly, and stands up for them. I marched for my kids who are filled with a hunger for justice, and are already stronger than me in their quest to proudly bear their Mexican-American viewpoints given by their father and I. This, after years of offhand remarks telling them to "swim back where they belong" when they were born right here in Ohio.
I marched for the girls, the ones who've been reviled and blamed and for rape culture making it worse. I marched for the girls who've had entire communities turn and blame them for being victimized and supported the offender. I marched for the people who can defend people who say they can "grab 'em in the pussy" and explain it away as "men will be men." Isn't that kind of talk vulgar? I reject it.
I marched for myself so I will never, ever forget the words that have been said. That "all Mexicans are rapists and drug dealers" and how everyone fell into line and believed it, affecting an entire swath of our country.
When WAS America greater than it is now? When everyone that didn't look like us fell into line and kept their mouths shut, drinking from their own fountains?
This is why I march. I march to never forget. I march for love and for the respect I have from my husband and children, from family and friends. I march for the office of president, one I respect, and sorrow for the words that now come from it unfiltered. I march for all the people typing posts and comments, the ones who glorify Jesus in one breath and call women like me who marched
not a real woman
with no common sense or respect
Words matter, and there are always imperfect ones that come out of any event. Ones that don't quite resonate and sound harsh. But just like is said of our president, "He doesn't always say the right thing. He's not perfect, but I'll support him. Let's make America great again."
I'm hoping you support other women too, instead of tearing us down with words that seek to cut and slice. Words that deem me crude and not a "real woman." Why harbor hatred of something you don't seek to fully know?
We all lean one way or the other, and Jesus isn't choosing sides.
Asking us why we marched might be a start, instead of condemning the whole march entirely. If you're seeking to do this, to understand the why's, then thank you. We have some answers that might stun you with their complexity. I would love to hear your side.
And I won't call you names if you do.
That only divides us.