This past Sunday I marched in the Equality March in Washington, DC. This is how their website describes the event “the ‘Equality March for Unity & Pride’ is a grassroots movement which will mobilize the diverse LGBTQ+ communities to peacefully and clearly address concerns about the current political landscapes and how it is contributing to the persecution and discrimination of LGBTQ+ individuals.”
Mike and I went on a bus with 32 other people who were marching either for themselves or for a family member. We knew only a few people, but that didn’t matter. Really we are a family.
I wish I knew how many people were there for the march. It. Was. Packed. We stood in
the heat of the sun (man was it HOT) with thousands of other people as we waited for the march to start. You know how cars are bumper to bumper in a traffic jam? Well we were shoulder to shoulder. It was difficult to move at times. We had to wait for quite some time before the march started. Someone would periodically blow a whistle and the crowd would roar with cheers. We were ready. In the crowd, I saw anger, hurt, resolve, determination. Tears flowed as the crowd united for the task at hand.
There were lots of messages displayed on shirts that people were wearing and signs that people were carrying. Many of these signs portrayed people’s frustration with the president. Some signs depicted reasons why that person was marching…either an actual person like their child, or a policy that they felt needed to change. People marched for themselves, they marched for family members or friends, they marched for those who couldn’t march for themselves like the 49 victims of the Pulse shootings.
I had a sign, but I took a different approach. I knew that there would be many people there at the march that didn’t have support from family. As I’ve mentioned before, I’m part of two private Facebook groups of moms of LGBTQ children. When we go to events like this, we like to take buttons and/or signs that say “Free Mom Hugs” so that we can show support to those who don’t have it. This was my sign (which my artist daughter McKensie was very sweet to make for me).
Did I mention how hot it was on Sunday? There were lots of sweaty hugs given and received (smile). You can tell a lot from a hug. There are the “what a great idea hug – I want a hug” hugs. There are the friendly “thank you for your support” hugs. Then there are the hugs that linger. The person holds you tightly. You can feel the emotion in it. Even though it may be brief, you can feel that the person NEEDED that hug. It’s a chance to tell that person through touch that they matter, that they are important, that they are seen, and most importantly they are loved. I gave hugs while walking to the march starting point. I gave hugs while waiting to start. I gave hugs afterwards at the festival…and even a hug at the train station where we were meeting our bus.
So why did I march? I marched for my son. I marched for my LGBTQ friends. I marched
because I think things need to change. There is too much discrimination and violence towards this community. I did it in a respectful way. I was a presence so that this community knows that someone cares. The following is an Instagram post by one of the young teens that were with us that day. This…this is why I was there…
“I just want to say today was one of the most impactful , beautiful and moving days of my life. I was surrounded by strangers who felt like family. I met some of the kindest, strongest people ever. Thank you to everyone who made this possible because I am more than grateful to you and I am so so blessed to have been able to come out here and have this experience today. Much love to everyone that shared this experience with me, you made it possible. Everyone who was there was part of my day. I was so proud of who I was instead of being ashamed or afraid. It was a liberating, once in a lifetime moment. I seriously recommend attending a march or pride event in your area if you can and are LGBT or a straight ally. One of the most powerful days of my life.”
These gatherings are so important because it is the one place that this community can truly, totally, be themselves. The teen that wrote that has great family support and it was still so important and impactful to her. There are some kids that can’t even be themselves in their own homes. That’s why I marched. That’s why I was present. That’s why I shared sweaty hugs that spoke of love without words.
Because love matters.
I was baptized as a baby, but in the church I attend now we baptize people when they can make the decision to follow Jesus. I had been a Christian for many years, but decided to get baptized as an outward profession of my faith. The really cool part was back then we did baptisms in a large stream a few miles from our church. It wasn’t quite a river, but that’s what I think of when I hear that song. The weather was perfect…clear and sunny. The water was cold and refreshing. I remember keeping my eyes open when my pastor lowered me into the water. I could see the sun, the bright blue sky, and the green trees hovering over the water. It was beautiful, and it felt like a fresh start. What made the day extra special was the fact that my husband and son were baptized that same day.
When I was 15 years old, I was hanging out with some of my friends. We were outside of my friend’s house when her neighbor came pulling out of his driveway with his German Shepherd tied up in the back of his pickup truck. The guys we were with teased the dog. Not physically…but they were barking at it and yelling at it…being obnoxious boys basically. You could tell it agitated the dog. It was a short errand and we were still out front when he came back. The boys again did their best to aggravate the dog. We told them to stop, but they didn’t. When the owner put the dog in the backyard, he didn’t realize that the gate wasn’t completely latched. He went in the house, and the dog came tearing around to the front. There was a block retaining wall that everyone jumped up on to get away from the dog…except for me. Being vertically challenged…I couldn’t physically get up there. And although I wasn’t mean to the dog, he took his aggression out on me. I didn’t run because I knew he would only chase me. He jumped up on his hind legs and put his front paws on my shoulders. Yes the dog was as tall as me. I tried to push him off of me and that’s when he grabbed my right arm. Have you ever seen one of those police videos where they show someone with protective gear getting attacked by the police dog? Well that was me…except no protective gear. My friends were yelling for the dog to get off of me, but he was shaking my arm like I was a rag doll. The owner heard the commotion and came running out the front door calling for the dog. It wasn’t listening. As much as I hated to do it, because I would never intentionally hurt an animal, I punched the dog in the face. That got him to stop long enough to hear his owner calling him and he went running to him. The owner came out to check on me. I had a wind breaker on and it wasn’t ripped so he thought the dog must not have bitten me very badly. The weird thing is that when I got home and took my jacket off, my shirt underneath was ripped. You could see the imprint of the dogs teeth on my arm. His whole mouth. There was some blood and lots of bruising and the next day my arm was swollen as all get out.
I really like this quote by Liam Neeson. As we celebrate Christmas with friends and family, let’s remember that there are some who have been abandoned by their loved ones. There are some that have been told they can’t love or be loved. Lets change that. Lets be Jesus to others. Lets love beyond our capacity because that is when God shows up. Lets love one another as He has loved us.
Love Matters 