Yesterday, January 20, I felt so extremely sad. I was in mourning. My country's future is now in the hands of greedy and hate-filled people who want to set us back a century.
I cried as I watched Barack and Michelle leave the White House for the last time, although I harbor no resentment at their departure. They have walked a rough road for eight years and deserve all good things to come to them.
But I was sad, and a little scared. Worst of all, I felt hopeless.
Today I watched as people in every one of our 50 states gathered to march peacefully, standing up for their rights -- and to state their intentions to stand up for EACH OTHER'S rights.
150,000 people showed up to march in Chicago. They expected 30,000.
It's the same in all the other cities where marchers are talking the talk and walking the walk.
And they're marching all across the world. As far away as Sydney, Australia, and even Antarctica, people are speaking up and showing up in vast numbers in solidarity with Americans marching for human rights.
I have never been prouder to be a woman: this movement was conceived and birthed by women.
This movement was adopted by strong men, unafraid of strong women.
This movement was accepted by LGBTQ folks, counting on us to embrace all.
This movement has been nurtured and brought up by people of every color, every sex, every faith, every age; well-educated and not; lower, middle, and upper classes; abled and disabled; natural-born citizens and not.
I have felt my patriotism stir again, because these are the same people who were in Grant Park and marching back down Michigan Avenue, singing-dancing- chanting, laughing and being together on that balmy November night 8 years ago in Chicago. The faces may be different, but WE THE PEOPLE still remember our country from that evening, and We the People care too much about All the People to give up.
I have mourned. I have cried. Now I will march. I will march every day onward.