Marching in the Women's March in Washington, DC: What was it like to be there?

It wasn't so much of a march... more like a mosey, I'd say. Actually it was more like standing around for a hella long time, punctuated by short busts of mosey. And when I say, "standing around," I mean standing as still and straight as a bottle of beer nestled firmly into a 550,000 pack. It was an amazing experience I wouldn't trade for even the most luxuriously non-claustrophobic conditions.

Here's inside the metro subway car on the way into the city:

Inside the metro train.
Picture a medium sized room. Picture 250 people in that room.

I had carpooled to DC with four friends, some of them brand new friends, staying with Casey's cousin and her husband-- two more brand new friends. Casey's cousin had bought a metro card for each of us earlier in the week. Luckily. Because the lines to the ticket machines were an hour long. And that didn't count the line down to the platform and the massive rabble in the station after we arrived downtown:

Metro Platform.

Still on the Metro platform, on the way to the escalator.

Picture of the Metro platform from the escalator.

All in, a 45-minute Metro ride took over two hours. It was uncomfortable to breathe on someone's neck with someone else's arm in your face for a stretch that long. 

The conductor on the train was my favorite train conductor ever. He had that microphone humming with travel-time updates and words of encouragement. Meanwhile, everyone on the train got busy chatting each other up. I have never been squashed together with so many amazing, tolerant, agreeable people. Above ground, all afternoon, exactly the same scene.

What was it like to be there? It was heartwarming and heartening, inspiring, encouraging. It felt like a dragon stirring, with a tail as long as city streets and a heart as big as the mall. I will do my part to keep that dragon lumbering forward.