I am walking down seventh avenue.
I am walking towards fifth.
Toward the loud screams and cheers and chants
I hear bouncing off of buildings
and cascading down the wind tunnels of Manhattan
I see smiling faces, genuinely smiling faces,
for the first time in almost three months.
Faces of resistance, and hope,
people standing up for what they believe in,
knowing that they have that choice.
I see signs upon signs. I see pink hats.
I see clenched fists thrust to the sky.
I hear thousands of people yelling, and joining in.
For the first time in almost three months,
I see people proud to be American.
I approach fifth avenue on 55th street.
There are more people that can be counted.
Children standing on flower pots, chanting and yelling,
they are the new generation of resistance.
I see the people marching,
marching away from fascism,
marching towards a free and equal society
A firetruck crawls by, slowly,
from its speakers a song about survival,
speaking for all those who know the strength of their resolve,
four years of a demagogue, two years of an archaic congress.
The signs uplift, they are clever.
As I walk I am continually smiling at the genius.
Equating him to Putin,
controlled by a foreign dictator.
“Weak men fear strong women.”
“Women’s rights are fundamental.”
“We are the popular vote.”
A uterus, the fallopian tube raised in a clenched fist.
“The people united will never be defeated.”
“Dissent is patriotic.”
“Silence is consent.”
But here on this day there are few who are silent.
right in the middle of the throng the voice is loud.
Guy Fawkes masks make their appearance.
Some streets are blocked off.
The police maintaining order as best they can,
Police whistles drowned out by the cheers of the marchers.
Zip ties on the hips of police have no hope of being used,
the mass would move against them to protect theirs.
50 bike cops sit on their bikes in front of the tower ready to ride.
The street in between 55th and 56th on 5th avenue is desolate,
like the future of his presidency,
like the streets of DC before the march.
Police chiefs and captains come by to visit and see the throng.
They’re watching like the rest of the world is watching.
I make my way to the corner of 55th and 5th avenue.
It takes time, there are thousands of people
bottle-necked here to form the arrow point of resistance.
Cheering and happiness, rebellion and adrenaline.
Every seven minutes or so,
a cheer starts from somewhere distant,
and it ripples forward thru the protesters,
it makes the crawl up 5th avenue
and crashes into the barriers that the police erected.
In the middle of this I let out my own roar.
Police lead the vanguard,
moving in groups with spacing to maintain order,
it’s actually clever, and smart.
Every time they wedge in between
and form a line to move forward at their pace,
dozens of people jump in front to capture pictures,
it’s a moving sight.
Cultures from around the world,
representing those who could not be there.
All ages are marching, at their pace. the oldest and the youngest.
Those in the womb will someday know what they took part in,
marching for humanism and internationalism.
The real resistance begins after.
The sun shines today, for the protest.
Millions of voices are raised around the world
for those who can’t raise theirs.
We refuse to be led by a fascist demagogue.
©Copyright Rodney Bush