I never considered myself a political person. At the dinner table, in history class, on the bus, whenever the passionate conversations started and the opposing aisles became apparent, I held my tongue and daydreamed of a more peaceful topic. It’s not that I didn’t care, I just didn’t know how to eloquently express how I was feeling. Things were complex and as shameful as it is to admit, I never was compelled to find a reason to make sense of it all. But this year was different.
This time, as a newly turned adult, I understood the massive importance of it all and found reasons to get involved. And on November 8th, when I watched the TV with tears in my eyes, I knew something had changed inside me. With purposeful actions, our nation had just elected a man whose main campaign components were threats and hateful rhetoric, deeming these bullying tactics as permissible within our country. The horrific, unimaginable had just happened and it is not normal. And it felt as if our nation was on fire.
Later that night, a group of friends and I joined one of the many protests that our streets were hosting. We fell into a rhythm with the other protestors beside us and soon, we became part of the collective unit chanting into the night. That feeling, of being completely immersed in unadulterated passion will be something I never forget. People of all ages and backgrounds were actually taking initiative and vocalizing their concerns with physical action. They were making history and I was fortunate enough to be apart of it. And for the whole time I was there, everywhere I looked, people were filming and documenting the night. Through the aid of smart phones, digital cameras, and the ease of social media, this night was able to be shared and spread with thousands. It was a night purposefully made to be unforgettable. These pictures from that particular night, the undeniable proof of passion, helped those who could not attend, or those who feigned deaf to the national unrest, become aware of the fervorous noise.
However, in regards to protesting, social media can be a double edged sword. Disingenuous people jump onto movements through easily accessible platforms to perfect their online personas as trendy, which is offensive to the cause. If you want to post that beautiful picture of your body with the politically charged caption, #PussyGrabsBack, do it.
But don’t do it as an excuse to show off your latest matching set from Aerie and to score more likes: do it to furthermore prove that you, and only you, are in charge of your body and want to contribute to the movement. If you are going to post it, make sure you mean it, stand behind it, and are willing to defend it.
When I left those rallies that night on November 8th, my ears were ringing with the chants from the passionate strangers marching beside me. And the photographic evidence created an unignorable echo ringing throughout the ears of our entire nation. This is a sound needs to continue to be heard and it doesn’t just have to be from loud herds in the streets. There are countless methods of reminding everyone that what is happening is not acceptable and that it will not be normalized.
Regardless of how you protest or what you do, be loud. Make art. Have discussions. Research and stay informed. Declare your adorations with pride. Stand up for your passions. Love yourself unapologetically and be bold in doing so by sharing it for many to see. We can use social media to our advantage to keep the conversation going. Because we cannot let the noise die out. We must continue to use every tool at our disposable and be as loud as we must be in order to be heard.
childs play 