Just a couple weeks ago, thousands of feminists converged in Washington D.C. in protest of Donald Trump’s recent inauguration. An estimated three million people gathered internationally, with sister marches in Rome, Paris, Prague, Sydney, London, and Frankfurt, among hundreds of other locations. There were over 300 in the states alone. The march promoted minority rights, but was centered around women, who made their protests known about subjects Trump has previously discussed. Marchers were scheduled to rally from ten o’clock until quarter past one, with entertainers and speakers amplified throughout the streets surrounding the National Mall. Performers included Madonna, Michael Moore, Scarlett Johansson, and Muriel Bowser. We were excited to be part of that crowd.

The day began unremarkably at a Motel 6 in Frederick, Maryland. A 5:30 wake-up call abruptly interrupted our 4-hours’ worth night of sleep and we rose from our beds like the dead rising from their graves. But we were also too anxious to get to the march to be exhausted for long. Bleary-eyed and foggy-brained but also really excited, we began our drive to the Metro station that would get us to Washington. After a near encounter with a bus and some exit misses, we made it!

The parking garage was filled as if it was mid-morning, yet the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon. Men and women proudly bearing pink shirts, pink knitted “kitty” hats, and creative signs clogged the cement bowels of the station. The Metro station had started their trains two hours earlier than usual to accommodate the registered amount of marchers, which we could see was much more than websites had cited yesterday.  

All we had to do was follow the pink, as our dad soon realized to his delight (it made navigation through the crowds much, much easier). So that’s exactly what we did. And the pink took us to a train car that was unbelievably full of marchers. It was absolutely teeming with people going to the same place as we were. We all joined hands to make sure we didn’t separate in the crowd, and shoved ourselves at the throng of pink hatted people as soon as the train doors opened. We just barely fit, and spent the rest of the ride, our backs against the train door and our foreheads against the coats of the people in front of us, listening to a Metro employee vexingly ranting about the train doors (“Whatever you do, people, don’t force the doors open! DON’T! When they need to close they need to close and you can’t do anything about it . . .” and on and on and on) and fearfully yet irrationally waiting for the train to derail because of maxed-out capacity.

We finally arrived in Washington. Of course, this was a lot of our excitement in and of itself. We had just entered our nation’s capital for the first times in our lives. It was kind of  like, “This is where it all happens. The place I’m standing right now.” Washington D.C. radiates a sense of awe, or for its newcomers at least: a sense of nationalism and connection with one’s country.

So we kept following the other marchers, still in awe over our location, still turning our heads as we walked and drinking the city in as fast as we could. We walked across the National Mall, which was absolutely packed an hour later, and stared at the perfectly framed Capitol building. Soon we came to (what seemed like then) a sea of marchers gathering on Lexington Ave. It was just remarkable to be part of a giant exercising of the First Amendment, realizing that all the people around us held the same beliefs that we did.

A formal march was not able to be carried out, though, as the massive turnout filled the planned route. The rally went on for at least an hour past the scheduled march time, and by this point marchers began to get antsy. Cries of “Let’s see what America looks like marching,” and “I came here to march,” took over the previous chants. I remember laughing with an elderly lady behind us in the crowd — she took every opportunity throughout the speeches to convince the march organizers to let us finally march. A speaker would say something like, “We’ve gathered here today to –”, undoubtedly about to launch into an elaborately crafted speech, and this frail woman behind us, leaning on her daughter for support, would pump her fist in the air and interrupt, “TO MARCH!” The daughter would frantically hush her mother, looking around red-faced to see if anybody was offended. But we were all really thinking the same thing; the speeches were incredibly inspiring, yet they never strayed from the same core message. It was difficult to listen to various renditions of the same theme, especially when we were, as one marcher nearby put it, “corralled together like cattle.”

Eventually, we began to make our way out of the crowd, with the intention of getting to the White House, but at the corner of 6th Street and Independence Ave., we were being held up by the crowd around us. Literally. Had someone jumped just a few feet into the air, it’s likely they never would’ve come down. The other paths to the White House were choked with people too — the massive crowd had dispersed, yet the side streets were still difficult to navigate. We passed a few famous buildings: the National Holocaust Museum, the Washington Monument, and the Jefferson Memorial. Standing next to the National Museum of African American History and Culture, we could see that the crowd was continuously streaming from the direction of Capitol Hill, where the main rally had gathered for the rally earlier that morning. Eventually we made our way to Constitution Avenue, where we caught glimpses of the White House between the hoards of people. A group of young men had clambered up a twenty-foot pillar, holding a sign that said “Liberty and Justice for all,” and posing for photos. There were people with megaphones, leading chants for the other protesters to repeat. There were various echoes of, “We won’t go away, welcome to your first day,” and, “We want a leader, not a racist tweeter.” The crowd surged forward — it was difficult to break away from their determined path. We passed human-size Statues of Liberty, promoting immigrant support, and Princess Leias, holding signs inscribed with, “A woman’s place is in the resistance.”

Trump acknowledged this incredible movement the next day, tweeting “Watched protests yesterday but was under the impression that we just had an election! Why didn’t these people vote? Celebs hurt cause badly.” It was disappointing for me, and many other marchers, that he did not comment on the reason for the march. I wanted to know what he would say for our cause — how he would explain to his supporters the millions of people who gathered to protest what he has said and done regarding minority groups. I hope that Trump realizes that there are people around the whole globe challenging his agenda, and standing up for what they believe in. If you’re interested in participating in one of these marches, keep listening to the news and checking the web. A free app is on the app store too, with updates on what people are doing in their states to support what they believe in. A scientists’ march on Washington is also in the works, keyed toward protecting the environment and a climate change action plan.