i went down to the demonstration…

to get my fair share of abuse.

~~Mick Jagger

[At the New York Public Library Main Branch. 42nd St. & 5th Ave. Photo is mine.]

I told a few people that we were going to the Hands Off demonstration at Bryant Park. Some commented:

“Be careful.”

“Don’t take a backpack. Not the thing at a demonstration.”

On the #7 train to Fifth Avenue, I was unsure of how it was going to go. This was not the first major demonstration I’ve attended. We marched up Fifth to protest the WMD lies of the Bush administration. I was at the massive anti-war rally in Washington in the early ’70s. So, what was waiting up the stairs?

Was I going to get my fair share of abuse?

It was a drizzling rain. The umbrellas were open, closed and then opened again. Mariam and I found a place to stand and watch. I was still hurting from foot surgery, so walking any great distance was not going to happen. Instead, we marched a little but mostly wandered around Bryant Park, reading the signs and taking pictures.

And I took time to look into people’s eyes.

What I saw was mostly sadness. Sadness and despair. And confusion, sorrow, anxiety, concern, anger, resentment and too many other emotions to catalogue here. People are worried, but not just for themselves, but for the country. The world as we once knew it, has been awash in racism, hate, retribution, illegal actions and terrifying speculation.

[A man. A sign. At least he is smiling. Photo is mine.]

There are so many things that worry me you know. I thought I was going to spend my golden years being happy and calm instead of morose and filled with unease. The flouting of the Constitution is terrifying. A third term for trump? How did we get here? The absurd has become the norm. The reasonable people who still believe in the rule of law, are gobsmacked.

I could go on for hours, but I’m exhausted. Not from going to the demonstration, but from the high level of anxiety (an overused word) that has left me weary.

I know I have friends, in my hometown and elsewhere, that will not agree with my political statements, but that’s the way, I guess, that it has to remain.

Here are a few photos from April 4 in Manhattan:

[Photo is mine.]

[Photo is mine.]

[Photo is mine.]

[Photo is mine.]

I saved my favorite photo to close this post. I walked close to her. She spoke to no one, didn’t smile–I assume she didn’t feel there was anything to smile about–she had no umbrella, I saw no friend standing close. She stood quite alone. Look at her face. Study her eyes. She’s remembering something.

But she had 10,000 friends that day. People who were thinking her thoughts and feeling lost, just like her…

…and just like me.

[Photo was taken by me. I wish it wasn’t. I wish I didn’t have to be there. Or watch her stand in the drizzle.]

It is truly heartbreaking to watch all these concerned people with their grievances. But it is especially dismaying to watch the children carry signs that read: IT’S MY FUTURE TOO.

Imagine, a child having such uncertain thoughts about what her future will be.

Just imagine.