Alice Bee’s Photos from the Women’s March on Washington
I used to carry Alice Bee on my shoulders all the time. Everywhere we went, she’d beg to “go up high” and I would happily oblige. But before yesterday, I can’t remember the last time I carried her for any significant amount of time.The past six years have rapidly sped up the deterioration of my body, plus she’s already taller than my mom and currently weighs just south of a thousand pounds. But when she wanted to go up high in order to have a better vantage point to photograph yesterday’s Women’s March on Washington, I couldn’t say no. All of the following images, with the exception of the final one, were taken by Alice Bee.
I firmly believe that protest is an important part of our democracy, and I find nothing more deplorable or downright un-American than those who seek to shame or silence others from making their voices heard. Our country was founded in protest, and one of the most important events in the founding of our nation involved the willful destruction of British property.
Even though I’m a big supporter of public protest in principle, I personally don’t really care much for marches and rallies. I don’t like crowds, and I’m not particularly adept at all the chanting and singing one is expected to do at these types of things. I’m also always a little saddened by the “Legalize Hemp” guy that inevitably seems to show up, no matter what the actual cause.
Despite this aversion, my personal and professional path has put me at dozens of protests, rallies, and marches over the past 25 years. But what my family and I experienced yesterday was unlike any other event of this type I have ever personally witnessed.
We were in the middle of a sea of over half a million people, mostly women, who were there to make their voices heard and show their support for one another--half a million people who were angry, scared, and horrified by the words and promises of a man who has shown little respect at all for girls or women. And yet, this was the most supportive, positive, excited, happy crowd I’ve ever experienced at an event of protest. To me, it felt less like a typical protest and more like that scene when all the Whos in Whoville got together to sing even though the Grinch had done everything he could to crush their spirits.
I have no doubt that there will be other, less peaceful forms of protest and resistance over the next four years, but the tone and outpouring of support yesterday felt like exactly what was needed at this moment in time.
Our family was out at dinner the night before the march and we noticed a large group of women all wearing pink hand-knitted cat ear hats at the table next to us. I asked Jen if she thought we should talk to Alice about why so many women at the march would be wearing these “pussyhats.”
“I already did,” Jen replied.
“Really? So what’d you tell her?”
“The truth. Why? What would you have told her?” “Anything but THAT!” was my first thought, but I immediately realized that Jen was right.
I definitely would have preferred that neither of us have to explain to our six-year-old daughter how that word has another connotation. But since we now live in a country where 62 million people decided that a horny man’s pathetic claims of grabbing women against their consent was not an immediate disqualification to be President, I guess we have to start having these conversations earlier.
Somehow, in the middle of half a million people, we managed to find some old friends who had brought their three amazing daughters down from Philadelphia. Alice is fascinated by teenagers and young women, so she was completely in heaven hanging out with them for the day.
Afterwards, when I asked Alice what her favorite part of the march was, she immediately replied “The big girls!”
I think she’s right--that was my favorite part, too. Seeing all the “big girls” of every age who decided they couldn’t stay silent, that they needed to support one another and provide hope, motivation, and courage was absolutely inspiring. I’m glad that we could help Alice Bee understand that even though she’s an only child, she actually has millions of sisters around the world.
I have no idea how many more times I’ll be able to cart Alice Bee around on my shoulders--she’s growing up so fast. And if yesterday turns out to be the last time, I can only hope that it will be a memory she keeps with her forever. I know I will.