My wife and I attended the protest/march/gathering event this weekend and were quite heartened by those in attendance. We wore gaiters and were fully ready for the worst to come to pass. Frankly, I was a bit upset that we forgot the saline.
But we were wildly overdressed.
Those in attendance were lovely and truly were our people. They know that the way things are at the moment isn’t sustainable.
The sign game was on point, too. One quoted the movie Elf: “You sit on a throne of lies.” (IYKYK)
The other said “If Kamala were president we’d all be at brunch now.”
But the main thing I remember aside from the expansive age range (toddlers in strollers to widened seniors in wheelchairs) was the genuine care and niceness of people. There were folks wandering around with free bottles of water to make sure everyone stayed hydrated. Thousands of people from Kansas City and surrounds showed up and showed out.
Gov. Kehoe activated the National Guard and the Emergency Operations Center for this? Ok sure, I thought. It was nothing more than a bunch of mighty strong-hearted people demonstrating how a peaceful protest is supposed to look.
And now we’ll always be able to reflect on that season when we prepared A LOT but finally learned we needn’t have steeled ourselves so much because we found others just being good trouble makers.
So many good people. We need this reminder. I feel so fortunate the folks in my life are on the same page about current events. Good trouble, indeed! (This may be my next tattoo!)
I spent Saturday locked in a swirling cesspool of dread. My gut knew something tragic would come of that day. I assumed it would be at home, in DC, a byproduct of the ridiculous show of power overtaking our city. I am both horrifically saddened and relieved that it happened elsewhere. On Sunday, I raced out of the city with my daughter to the place we find solace. I could barely breathe until I was in Pennsylvania. It is a time of endings, as you say, and breakdowns, and I also worry that we are far away from rebuilding as a country. But as I drove North away from what feels like the epicenter of this madness, what struck me is that there are places and people and parts of our lives that continue to thrive and grow and change for the better. Air is available everywhere, and when we choose to fill our lungs with it, it will fuel our brains to make sounder choices, take kinder actions, and, as you so importantly highlight, tend more carefully and graciously to our own needs. Sometimes escape is required, at least, that is my ritual. I love the word "gentle", and I hope we can all find greater gentleness in this time, you and your family included as you navigate the breakdown and the build up. All the best!
This is great advice, and I can relate to it wholeheartedly. The opportunities we've had to get a little distance from the city have been enormously beneficial reminders that the world is still moving, still thriving outside the trapped ball of toxicity we feel as Washingtonians. Hoping your summer will be full of other opportunities for mini escapes.
It was tempting, but also too much, to go join the Brent goodbye on Saturday. Zoe was saying her (more permanent) goodbye to DC as she moves away and starts her career beyond college and coaching. It felt like too much emotion to contain in one weekend. Of course I've known this was coming and the goodbyes are necessary for new beginnings. We will miss Brent, and all the memories it holds but are praying for all the best for the many amazing folks who have passed through those halls; your family very much included.
Wish I could have seen Zoe, but I understand the idea of too much! I’ll be thinking of her as she makes her next moves in the world… and for you, as you navigate the transition. Hugs to you all!
My wife and I attended the protest/march/gathering event this weekend and were quite heartened by those in attendance. We wore gaiters and were fully ready for the worst to come to pass. Frankly, I was a bit upset that we forgot the saline.
But we were wildly overdressed.
Those in attendance were lovely and truly were our people. They know that the way things are at the moment isn’t sustainable.
The sign game was on point, too. One quoted the movie Elf: “You sit on a throne of lies.” (IYKYK)
The other said “If Kamala were president we’d all be at brunch now.”
But the main thing I remember aside from the expansive age range (toddlers in strollers to widened seniors in wheelchairs) was the genuine care and niceness of people. There were folks wandering around with free bottles of water to make sure everyone stayed hydrated. Thousands of people from Kansas City and surrounds showed up and showed out.
Gov. Kehoe activated the National Guard and the Emergency Operations Center for this? Ok sure, I thought. It was nothing more than a bunch of mighty strong-hearted people demonstrating how a peaceful protest is supposed to look.
And now we’ll always be able to reflect on that season when we prepared A LOT but finally learned we needn’t have steeled ourselves so much because we found others just being good trouble makers.
Here’s to you, Abby, and all who are here.
You got this.
We got this.
The only way out is through.
So many good people. We need this reminder. I feel so fortunate the folks in my life are on the same page about current events. Good trouble, indeed! (This may be my next tattoo!)
I spent Saturday locked in a swirling cesspool of dread. My gut knew something tragic would come of that day. I assumed it would be at home, in DC, a byproduct of the ridiculous show of power overtaking our city. I am both horrifically saddened and relieved that it happened elsewhere. On Sunday, I raced out of the city with my daughter to the place we find solace. I could barely breathe until I was in Pennsylvania. It is a time of endings, as you say, and breakdowns, and I also worry that we are far away from rebuilding as a country. But as I drove North away from what feels like the epicenter of this madness, what struck me is that there are places and people and parts of our lives that continue to thrive and grow and change for the better. Air is available everywhere, and when we choose to fill our lungs with it, it will fuel our brains to make sounder choices, take kinder actions, and, as you so importantly highlight, tend more carefully and graciously to our own needs. Sometimes escape is required, at least, that is my ritual. I love the word "gentle", and I hope we can all find greater gentleness in this time, you and your family included as you navigate the breakdown and the build up. All the best!
This is great advice, and I can relate to it wholeheartedly. The opportunities we've had to get a little distance from the city have been enormously beneficial reminders that the world is still moving, still thriving outside the trapped ball of toxicity we feel as Washingtonians. Hoping your summer will be full of other opportunities for mini escapes.
Thanks Abby. The world IS still thriving, and that's so important to both see and believe, albeit incredibly challenging at times.
It was tempting, but also too much, to go join the Brent goodbye on Saturday. Zoe was saying her (more permanent) goodbye to DC as she moves away and starts her career beyond college and coaching. It felt like too much emotion to contain in one weekend. Of course I've known this was coming and the goodbyes are necessary for new beginnings. We will miss Brent, and all the memories it holds but are praying for all the best for the many amazing folks who have passed through those halls; your family very much included.
THX for this reflection of the day. <3
Wish I could have seen Zoe, but I understand the idea of too much! I’ll be thinking of her as she makes her next moves in the world… and for you, as you navigate the transition. Hugs to you all!
Love this message…