WE MARCHED.
I knew why we were going. To paraphrase Lawrence O’Donnell, whom I had
watched the evening before: The NRA has
made it possible for American mass murderers to be the best equipped in the
world.
This wasn’t our first rodeo, so to speak,
since we had joined a march and rally last year, but I still wasn’t certain how
many would be joining us. When we
reached the Park N Ride to take the light rail train to downtown Denver, I
immediately knew that this was different.
We were the first stop on a train ride that is normally sparsely
populated on a Saturday afternoon, but there were lines waiting to purchase
tickets. Mind you, this was in the
middle of an affluent, highly conservative area. I might have guessed there was another event
happening downtown, except that everyone was carrying signs. We purchased our tickets in the nick of time
and hurried to the train that was just arriving. It had to deviate off schedule
to allow the massive boarding, and by the time it departed, there was no
sitting or standing room left with many still outside waiting for the next
train.
We sat across from a nurse and like
everyone else on the train struck up a conversation. Her family were gun owners, but this was different. Her middle schooler and high school student
were with her and told us of their active shooter drills. Her daughter would be voting in the next
election. Yes, we were on the right
track.
At the Convention Center stop, the train
disgorged and we began the several block walk to Civic Center Park where the
rally was to be held. Because the
students had gathered first, we were nowhere near the speaker platform, but
that was the purposeful intent. I took
note of some of my favorite signs:
“Respect existence or expect resistance,” “Our leaders are acting like
children, so the children must act like leaders,” “School shooters are not a
regulated militia,” “When your peers are being murdered, you become an adult by
default,” “Read books, not obituaries,” “Actually, guns do kill people,” “I
signed up to be a teacher, not a first responder,” “I suggest we put a teacher
in every gun store,” “I should be writing my college essay, not my obituary,”
“Betsy DeVos is the only thing that should be fired inside a school,” “The
children almost broken by the world will become the adults most likely to
change it,” and on the back of a dog, “NRA, why did you kill my best friend?” Our signs must have struck a note, because
they were photographed dozens of times – “Grandparents Marching to Save Lives,”
and “Grandparents Can Be Tigers If the Cubs are Threatened.” There were many young people there, but quite
a few oldies but goodies like ourselves.
There also seemed to be numerous teachers present, with a very large
contingent of Montessori staff.
The speakers began. I will not go into detail because the media
will have covered them well, but they were both survivors of massacres and
relatives of victims. During the
speeches, which lasted close to two hours, a plane flew overhead, trailing a
banner which criticized one of our Senators who has taken almost $4 million
from the NRA. At one point, it was
announced that we had completely filled Civic Center Park. We cheered.
We knew that what began as an idea and turned into a rally had now
become a movement.
Then the march began. The most interesting thing to me is that it
seemed that virtually everyone in downtown Denver was part of this. People were even leaning out of parking
structures. I had wondered beforehand if
there might be any counter demonstrations, but not a single one was visible. We marched for almost an hour and returned to
the park, where it was almost as if those present were somewhat reluctant to
end this statement of principle. We
walked back to the train stop, and apparently the crowds had disrupted the
schedule so that we waited for a very long time for our train to arrive. If we thought the trip down was crowded, this
one was bulging at the seams. We had to
stand at a door well and watched as at each stop, people were disappointed that
no more could get on.
Those were the mechanics of yesterday but
now I will add my thoughts. You must
remember that these demonstrations were planned, organized and executed by
young people. There are those who say
that teenagers couldn’t have done this.
I beg to differ. Yes, the
students from Stoneman Douglas are amazing.
But the over 800 worldwide marches were conceived and executed by other
students, equally competent, articulate and committed. Perhaps those who doubt these students’
abilities were exceptionally underperforming teenagers. I remember being 17 years old and in charge
of arranging housing and transportation to hundreds of students coming into
Denver for a convention. Our teenagers
are our future. As I watched some
national coverage last evening, I was struck by something one of the
interviewers said. When he asked a
volunteer who was stationed in Washington, D.C. to register new voters (there
were many of those in Denver, as well) if he had had a successful day, the
volunteer replied that he hadn’t signed up the numbers he had expected, because
so many he asked responded that they had already registered. The tide is turning.
To end, there are a lot of adjectives and
adverbs that were engendered yesterday:
admiration, excitement, involvement, inspirational, hopeful, determined,
aware, proud, powerful, passionate, grief, commitment, and yes, exhaustion.
On the short drive home from the train
stop, I said these words, “I hope we did some good.” I think maybe we did.
