March on

I marched.  I marched with millions of others.  It was surreal. It was amazing. It was powerful.  And then I completely fell apart.  I sobbed my entire drive home from work on Monday.  After I got mad at a bunch of people and decided there is not point in marching or fighting or trying to change anything.

I am not sure what I expected, but maybe something from the president.  Maybe even a tiny acknowledgement of what the millions were saying.  Instead he talked about himself. And his importance.  And he went to the CIA to talk about how the sun came out for him.  Not only did he ignore millions of women, he continued to make every single thing about him.  And I berated myself for this being the only time I marched and felt like it was meaningless because it was an “easy march” or at least that’s what the critics said.

So I listened to the RENT soundtrack and sobbed.  And then I watched Jim Gaffigans new special and slept and woke up ready to fight.  I watched this cute video:

and how can that not make a person’s heart completely full.  And then I talked to my allies.  And Then I starting planning a post card happy hour.  And it felt better.  And then I read a bunch of #alternativefact tweets and felt a ton better.

But at the end of the day, what really inspired me, was this message from Mark Ruffulo

“Each on of us, by doing one tiny thing together make an incredibly powerful whole”

And so I thought about my tiny things.  I teach 30 student social workers every week and I have been for 5 years. I can help them learn about social justice and activism and being a voice for the most vulnerable.  We talk about the dignity and worth of all human beings.  This is something.

I thought about the adult survivor of child sexual abuse I met with today after she finally disclosed the 10 years of sexual assault she endured.  I helped her breathe.  I told her it was not her fault.

I think of the work I do every day, to not only help child victims of sexual abuse, but to change the stigma the community and media puts on victims.  I think of my kids who watched the Women’s March coverage on Channel One news and they could say “My mom was there!”

It is so hard to feel that I am making a real difference.  It is so hard to see how we can overcome this terrifying administration.  It is so hard to feel like I am either overreacting or under reacting.  So I will surround myself with allies and advocates.  I will do small things and if possible big things.  I will honor the feelings I have no matter how irrational they may seem, because I know that irrational is the new reality.  I will take a deep breathe and watch cute three year old singing Disney songs.


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