On Saturday, three generations of my family attended the Women’s March at our state’s capital, in Olympia, WA. Despite the chill in the air on a cold and grey January day, I loved being in attendance to support women and our right to autonomy. It is bittersweet how my daughter saw a collective of women and a few men gather in a show of support for our equal rights. My great-grandmother was a suffragette who made her waves during the first wave of feminism. 100 years later women are still fighting for their rights. Four generations later it is shameful that my daughter will have to continue to carry on fighting against misogyny. The assault on women’s rights has been ongoing for hundreds of years and there is no end in sight.
On Saturday, I had many conversations with the women who were making their voices heard. It made my heart proud when multiple women took photos of my banner, and those who further shared with me how the subject of my banner needs to be addressed, as abusers and the lack of accountability is a serious issue that is not being addressed in the women’s movement.
There were moments when I locked eyes with women after they read my banner, and I could see from the look on their faces, that they too were survivors. There was a moment when a man walked by as he read my banner and his eyes bulged out of his head as he could not hide how he was openly responding to my concept, ”I can hold my abuser accountable from Wherever I AM”.
I stood outside the capital, continuing my stand to hold my abuser accountable among a collective of women who understood how I wouldn’t be silent, as they were not being silent either. I stood there among their beautiful voices, hearing their chants, surrounded by their own powerful banners and signs.
Recently, earlier this January, my abusers' lawyer told the court, that I engage in “hardcore, really extreme behaviors”. Holding my banner, and declaring my power within myself, where I can hold abusers accountable without anyone’s support; speaking my truth and declaring I won’t be silenced by my abuser is being viewed as being, “Hardcore, Really Extreme behavior she engages in.”
And there I was surrounded by my fellow sisters, a collective of women and all of us were engaging in the same “hardcore extreme” behaviors, and my heart soared with happiness among the many whom I shared a new companionship with. In that moment, I was not alone.
Many of the women I spoke to were elders who all had the same message to share with me. They had marched and protested in the 70’s, among the second wave feminists movement. And now 40 years later, I stood beside them as they once again felt forced to March and protest as women are still not equal to men. Elderly women, some with walkers and canes; bundled in their scarves, and knitted hats, with mittens to stay warm from the cold showed up to continue to make waves for women everywhere, once again.
What was missing in the town of our state capital and in a town with a liberal college, like Evergreen, was the younger generation. As the elders made their way to protest, the younger generations were nowhere in sight. 95% of those who showed up were baby boomers. There were only a handful of young people in their upper teenage years to upper 20’s. I don’t believe I saw anyone my age, as I am in my 30’s and pushing 40. There were a few people who may have been in their forties to 50’s. My daughter was the only child who attended, along with two babies. The vast majority who showed up were elders.
I am grateful for the elders who are kicking ass and were able to show up. And while I am grateful they showed up, I know our elders should not be burdened with having to be called upon to make waves once more. We should be carrying on their activism and continuing on with the work they have already invested in on our behalf. While I welcome all elders who choose to make waves, we need to have our younger generation invested in learning to make waves, so our elders can have the choice to carry on in calm waters.
Women have died for our right to choose, a fundamental right, a human right that has now been taken away. Some women are suffering from miscarriages and are being prosecuted for murder. Women’s inequality affects every single one of us.
My great-grandmother did the hard work to give voting rights to women, and I do not take her efforts for granted. I remember the history of how Suffragettes were institutionalized and called hysterical for believing they had the same right to vote as men. Women suffered for our right to vote, so I vote while I think of those who would benefit from me forfeiting my right to vote. I think about those who want to take my rights away, my choice, and my autonomy.
I show up and I am determined to participate in fighting back against the systemic oppression of women. Fighting back against the patriarchy which is rooted in misogyny, the hatred of women. If we do not participate in the dismantling of our oppression, then we are participating in our oppression with our own complicity.
Many of the elders shared a message to my daughter as well. They collectively were all so thankful to my 11-year-old daughter as she became the symbol of the newest generation and of their hopes. They thanked her for being at the March. They asked her how she would go about making changes. They saw her, they encouraged her voice, and they encouraged her power. I could see the dreams they had for my daughter. The same dreams they had for themselves on their journey as women. The dreams they held onto when they first marched in the second wave of their movement when they were called upon to continue the work of the first wave. The dreams they all shared for the future of our women were given to my daughter. And with the passing of dreams of equality for women, comes the responsibility to make waves.
We must make waves.
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