Marching for Peace: One Individual’s View

March 8, 2003. The Scallion’s very own webmeister and sometime reporter, A.J., participated in the “Code Pink: Women for Peace” march held in the nation’s capital today and offered a few remarks about the march for this week’s edition.

A.J. recounted emotions and events before and during the march. “I confess, I was nervous about attending this march. Would the virtually guaranteed pro-war demonstrators protesting against us behave thuggishly? Would I be placing myself in a situation where I’d be subject to violence or arrest? I always feel like I’m on the ‘wrong’ side of the issue—the side I’m opposing always seems to have violent tendencies and extreme views compared to my own. I realize that violent and extreme factions may exist on the side I’m on, but I haven’t seen it yet. So, yes, I was concerned for my own physical safety in attending the march.

“Because of my concerns—and worries about finding the pre-march rally—I really didn’t sleep much last night. I got up early and traveled to the Malcolm X park on 16th street in D.C. Even though I was late for the beginning of the rally, I found pockets of pink-clad women of all ages on the Metro with me—I immediately felt more comfortable. Instead of pink, I wore my U.S. flag shirt to show that, while I oppose this administration, I still consider myself very much a patriot. Once I got to the rally at about noon, it was amazing to see so many people in the same place at one time who all disagree strongly enough with Junior Bush’s call to arms that they had disrupted themselves from their Saturday routines to be here, to march for peace. I felt like I should have worn a flower in my hair like they did in San Francisco in the 60s!

“The march itself started an hour late, at 2:00. Once it was in full swing, it was again amazing to see just how many people were there. While I’m sure I’d overestimate the number, I’m equally sure that the corporate media would grossly underestimate it for the sake of marginalizing us, making us look like a pitifully small, insignificant minority. But I think it’s safe to say that there were many thousands of people there. Looking behind us, we saw enough marchers to fill a three-lane road four blocks behind us. I’m sure there were at least as many people ahead of us, although I couldn’t see all the way to the beginning of the group. Dozens of people lined balconies, storefronts, and sidewalks to cheer us on with hoots of encouragement and peace signs. People also honked and waved peace signs from their cars.

“There were indeed pro-war sentiments and protestors from time to time—interestingly, there was a group of anti-abortion protestors protesting us. I couldn’t believe it! Protect the unborn babies so they can grow up and be killed by bullets and/or nuclear, biological, and/or chemical weapons in an unnecessary war? Ridiculous … but true! How inconsistent—schizophrenic—can people be? But this confirms—as if I had any doubt—that the anti-abortionists are not looking to save lives: they are looking only to preclude women from having enough control over their own lives to determine their own destinies. If they were truly interested in saving lives, they’d be out there demonstrating against tobacco, excessive alcohol, drugs, eating animal products, getting obese, not wearing sunscreen, you name it—and they’d have joined the march. The pro-war, anti-abortion demonstrators inspired myriad conversations among the marchers—I was surprised but delighted to find myself talking to so many people who, again, felt as I did on the issue: that abortion may well be wrong, but the decision rests solely with the woman, and it is not up to us to dictate to one another what to do. I wish those anti-abortion protestors could be made to understand that it is indeed possible to be both anti-abortion and pro-choice, just as it is possible to be against Saddam Hussein and terrorism but against baby Bush’s filthy little war. However, the pro-war protestors were few and far between—for every heckler, there seemed to be at least a dozen well-wishers cheering us on.

“We intended to march in front of the White House, but we were belayed. Originally, we were supposed to pass in front of the White House in groups of twenty five—ostensibly for security purposes. Instead, the entire area was cordoned off from us—obvious terrorists and Unamericans that we are—for no less than a block on all sides, making it impossible for any of us to get even remotely close … except for those wishing to risk arrest—not me. Nonetheless, there were enough of us to circle the cordoned-off area completely. By then, it was approaching 5:00 p.m. After listening to a few speakers, I headed for home at about 5:15.

“I reaped a personal reward in attending the march, namely, bumping into an old friend I hadn’t seen in five or six years and had lost touch with completely. I spied him during the rally, and we talked and marched the whole way. What a delight to find that someone I had already respected so very much in the past felt the same way I did about the issues we encountered during the march! Sometimes, the Universe has a way of doling out these wonderful little treasures!

“This whole experience just amazes me. Not in a million years would I have figured myself for a political activist, but this administration has brought out an outspoken side of me I never expected. First, I marched for abortion rights last spring; then, over the summer, I find my way into The Scallion; since then, I find myself signing petitions, writing letters, and calling and e-mailing government officials; recently, I joined the ACLU in growing desperation to save Americans’ rights; now, I’m marching for peace. I’ve been a loner my whole life, but this whole experience has really taught me that a little solidarity with like-minded people can be good for the sanity, strengthening to the resolve to fight to right wrongs.

“I’d like to say one thing to The Scallion’s readers: get involved. Nobody can represent you better than you yourself can. Sign a petition, write a letter, call a politician, join a march. Make your voice heard. You’ll be so glad you did.”