Super article from an experienced protester who dates back to the 1960s. It’s graceful and links to many photos she captured from among the marchers.
In 1967, I was the radical Alinsky wrote the rules for. On the political cutting edge, I’d been arguing with fellow students and coworkers for years about Vietnam, and my growing disgust with my country led me down many winding roads of anti-American thought. I was counterculture before there was a name for it, skipping my prom and graduation as “bourgeois,” going barefoot, braless, and unshaven, and collecting tattoos at the only place in town those days — a crummy hole-in-the-wall next to downtown D.C.’s Greyhound station.
…On the morning of September 12, I left for the march with my camera. Since every picture’s worth a thousand words, I thought that would be the easiest and fastest way to communicate what really took place.
But what was going to take place? How many people would show? Though in my gut — with the latest victories of the new media over the old (Van Jones, ACORN) — I felt momentum building, I was really just one person going without a group, a strategy, or a plan…
All seemed informed and concerned, but cheerful and optimistic. I knew this feeling from before — it begins when you move from concern to action.
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Something I noticed from her photos: There were no black bloc of people wearing the black garb and black masks.