No Kings!

I wasn't sure what had me leaving the house last Saturday just after noon to join the No Kings Rally down near the Plaza. I had plenty of excuses not to go. Since I hadn't made plans to meet anyone there, no one would miss me if I didn't show up, and I was already tired from my earlier exercise class. Besides, I was already late - the rally was half over.

But the voice in my head wouldn't quiet down, so I got my keister out of my chair, put on some sunscreen, and walked out the door and down to the rally.

The weather was perfect; the crowd filled a good portion of the park and lined the nearby sidewalks. There was almost a carnival atmosphere; the people watching was fascinating. People had put a LOT of thought and work into their signs. Some words were just angry, but most displayed the sort of barbed humor I like. 

I made my way about halfway through the park to the edge of the crowd, then sat down to give my feet a rest and took a look around. While the crowd leaned heavily to the side of older, white-skinned folk, like myself, there were also a lot of younger adults. A few teens, very few children. I saw no counter-protesters, which didn't really surprise me - though Missouri leans red, I live in the middle of a blue bubble.

There was a tent with a speaker off to my left. I couldn't quite make out what they were saying - but the chants from those in the crowd better positioned to hear than I assured me I agreed with the gist of what was being said. I saw no need to give up my vantage point to hear the actual words. 

In front of the platform was a line of putative handmaids, dressed in their trademark red dresses with white bonnets. Even though I knew they were free to remove their costumes, I found the sight chilling. The story spooked me back when I first read it, and still does today. 

Even separate from the crowd as I was, I was glad I came. Everyone there had many choices of ways to spend their time, and chose this one. It was good for me to be there; to see I have so much company when I say, 'there is a better way.' 

I joined the crowd when the time came to march around the Plaza, but slipped out and turned aside when I came to the street which would take me home. I was tiring quickly, my stamina is still not back where I'd like it to be.

While part of me still thinks marches like these are not good for much except creating a bunch of noise, another part of me begs to differ. There was a LOT of restless energy in the air - I can only hope someone will find a way to harness and direct it for good. 

I do hope.