The line was so long to purchase tickets for the green line. Parking was seemingly scarce. Eventually, the MBTA let everyone know that they weren't going to charge anyone a fare. There were cheers and smiles all around. They weren't going to be the last of the day.
This was the first person I aimed my camera at to shoot. I am hyper aware that someone might not want their image created so I step with caution. She calmly paused and turned a little more so she was straight on. I shot, I smiled and thanked her. She smiled back. Affirmation is lovely.
I stood there watching the people around me. Those I could see without moving too much. I loved their thought-out, carefully crafted signs. And the ages of the people around me was so lightening. As I looked at these young girls I thought about myself at their age. I was too busy partying to pay attention to politics. I stood there and fell in admiration of their willingness to pay attention and be present. Silently, I thanked them.
This mom, I can only assume, with her young son and her sign of hope drew my attention. I loved the way she crouched down to his level to explain whatever it was. She could have been explaining that they were out of Goldfish crackers or she could have been explaining why the train was not stopping because it was so full. She may have been explaining that there was no bathroom or asking if his hands were cold. In my mind, this mom and son were talking about how important standing up for what you believe in is and that all the people on the train were standing with them.
Waiting on the train brought up a little anxiety. The car was packed. I could barely move without knocking someone in the head with my bag or elbowing them in the shoulder. I felt like cattle. I felt like Katniss Everdeen waiting for the elevator to rise. To begin. Once we got off the train and exited the station, I could see the sun pouring down into the underground. Rising up, we headed.
I chased this guy down, through the throngs of folks, so I could photograph this sign. So many of the signs made me laugh. Some made me proud that I was there. Some were not in my taste at all. It turns out that he's a friend of a friend. Small world.
I waved at her. She roared at me. I had to photograph her. Her parents were great about it. Thanks kid. Keep on roaring.
So many people who normally like the quiet and comfort of their lives came forth to march. It was just that important to them that they made a sign and came out.
People were everywhere trying to see the speakers. I gave up trying after 10 minutes and focused on the people around me. This guy made me laugh. He would hold up his sign, then look at his phone and laugh. I wanted to be up in the tree, too.
I noticed the guy shooting almost immediately. Then, I noticed the well-dressed gentleman in the suit and tie nonchalantly reading the newspaper while almost two hundred thousand people stood outside his window. I daydreamed about what his life was like inside that building and if he always wore a tie on Saturday mornings.
There was so much laughter on this day. People who knew one another laughed together. Strangers laughed together. Laughter can be so beautiful.
I noticed the flag, poised over this woman's shoulder. Then I noticed that she was a middle-aged, stoic, Korean woman. The look on her face reminded me of my own mother. She stood there, so determined, so serious, while she held that flag. My breath caught in my chest.
While I don't agree with name-calling, I couldn't stop looking at this. At the same time, when I looked at the faces on the signs I couldn't help but grimace and turn away. They chose the most unflattering images, of course on purpose. It was so difficult to laugh at this, as many were doing. It was hard to look at the face that made the world rally together.
This girl was about my oldest son's age. She sat on someone's shoulders and took pictures of what she saw below and around her. It was a perfect depitction of the times.
My friend, Marise, was walking around and filming people that day. She asked, "why are you here?" This particular woman responded with, "For her" and nodded towards her daughter. Her daughter wore the Pussy Hat as well and it made me smile. I've watched some videos of folks talking about the "vulgar" hats being worn. They're wearing them in response to something that was said by someone they (they critics) politically support.
People were standing on rooftops, on balconies and leaning out of windows to take photographs and videos of the march. Cameras, phones and iPads were being hung out of windows so many stories high. I watched the people in this building for awhile. Popping in and out of different windows. They sure were a sight.
The look on her face never changed. Her heart was speaking.
This sign. This person.
I watched this woman and these two girls walk over to the fence, poise their sign and start chanting along with everyone else. I loved the image of Michonne from The Walking Dead next to the young girl in the Pussy Hat.
The sheer number of men that came out to support a march for women's rights was impressive. I saw this man's face first. I wondered what he was doing there. Was he protesting along? Did he think the marcher's were ridiculous? Was he waiting for someone or just passing by? I made a host of judgements about him in about 3 seconds. Then, I saw his sign. Then, I took a deep breath and checked myself. Stop with the judgements. Thank you, man, for being present and reminding me to do the same.
People lined the streets, holding signs, watching us walk by. Whenever I pointed my camera at someone they posed immediately. Not one person looked away. They were proud to be there. So was I.
Even the quickly thrown together signs spoke volumes. I watched people writing their words on the backs of pizza boxes while on the train that morning. I watched people add on to their signs on the common with Sharpies they borrowed from someone nearby. It didn't matter. The signs were as diverse as the people being represented.
A friend and I are in love with the word Fierce lately. We recently described a close friend of ours as Fierce, as she is a mama of seven and fiercely stands for what she believes in. I saw this woman, seemingly doing the same.
Thank you. For making women's rights important.
Margaret Sanger was a pioneer in the birth control movement. She believed that women could have more control over their lives if they could control when to have children. This was in the early 1900's, before 1925. She was a social activist and played an integral part in establishing Planned Parenthood.
Thank you, Stanley Rosenberg, Karen Spilka, Barbara L'italian, Joseph Boncore, Sal DiDomenico.
Sometimes a message that is so simple can be so complicated. It shouldn't be.
This joke was funny. Not kind at all, but totally funny.
This is NOT a moment, it's the MOVEMENT. Yes. A thousand times YES.
Rise up, little one. You're amazing.
Seeing all the little kids was great. This mama taking a selfie with her cool, sunglasses-wearing daughter brought a smile to my face. We are most definitely stronger together.
I love tacos. The end.
This couple. A cane. An arm. Just walking because it mattered.
Rising up and being present, literally and figuratively can make you so vulnerable. Everyone can see you. People can photograph you. What if you're on the 6 o'clock news? What if family and friends see you?
Stand for what you believe in. Always. Your silence can harm not only you but those who may not be able to be heard.
Yes. Do that.
Thank you so much, fellas, for coming out, holding signs and walking. You matter so much.
I saw this sign. I pointed to her and said, "YES. Absolutely, YES!"
We shared a smile and a moment.
We HAD started. With the sign making and the showing up and the marching and the photographing.
This sign belonged to someone else. This girl and her mama saw the sign and asked if the girl could hold it for a picture. They walked over the sidewalk, posed, took the photo and thanked one another. It was so great. And this girl meant every word she held.
Stating the obvious. Absolutely. Indeed, this is very bad.
I loved the native dress. What I loved more though was the smile the man behind the child was giving.
Yes, we are.
There was a man along the walk that brought so much joy. He didn't have sign. He wasn't chanting. He stood there with his Coleman cooler full of soapy goodness, his bamboo sticks with string and created these gigantic orbs of magical amazingness. Immediately, people were smiling and laughing and really enjoying the moment.
I loved the look of the bubble right before it popped.
Facts do matter.
Bubbles are awesome.
Both are true.
This person had no idea that she was about to be enveloped in a bubble.
There were a few moments that day that made me tear up or get a bit choked up. This sign was one of those things that made me catch my breath and feel that heart wrenching thing that happens in my chest.
This sign made me laugh out loud. I think I scared the person standing next to me. It was one of those laughs that shoots out of your mouth before you can even stop it. And it was loud.
This group of individuals looked so cool. There were five of them, dressed all in black with Pussy Hats on. They sat on or against this railing like they were posing for a magazine. This bubble came and the man second from the right never moved as it floated by and popped right in front of them. I have a series of images showing everyone else making faces, laughing, sticking out their tongues. This man never even blinked. He needs more bubbles in his world.
Bubbles popping are fun to photograph. That is all.
Thank you, Obama, for leading with integrity and kindness.
There were not many people in hijab on this day. I made this photo because people were asking to take their picture. You don't see the three other people standing and photographing these women with their signs in this moment. Emotions were caught between wanting to preserve this moment, these women who matter and the curiosity revolving around their dress.
Another reason to geek out over Star Wars. Sure. I'll take it.
It really can't get much clearer than that.
I'm so happy that the signs were placed here and that some were saved to be placed in the archives. History in the making...