I have never considered myself a “marcher”. I have always been opinionated and politically active. I’ve voted in every election and often find myself yelling expletives at President Trump on the television screen. But a marcher? Not so much. And yet there I was this past Saturday, marching down Market Street next to my mom and thousands of other protesters, reveling in the feeling of empowerment and community that buzzed throughout the crowd. So… what changed?

For me, it wasn’t just that I decided I wanted to march this year. It was that I realized I needed to march this year. Everything that has happened this past year since the inauguration of our current president culminated in a distinct recognition that I could no longer sit on the sidelines. And millions of people agreed. Over 200,000 people attended the Women’s March in New York City; 600,000 in Los Angeles; 300,000 in Chicago; and 100,000 in San Francisco, with smaller marches in other cities across the nation. The marches crossed national lines, as well, extending globally to cities such as Rome, Frankfurt, and Osaka.

Photo courtesy of Cianna

And despite Trump’s attempt to disguise the underlying reason for the protests in yet another ridiculous tweet, all of the marchers knew exactly what they were protesting: Trump’s flagrant disrespect for women and minorities and his administration’s efforts aimed at reducing their rights.

Despite what some may think, this march was not made up of a bunch of women bitching and moaning. There was no “woe is me!” mentality. In fact, it was the complete opposite. It was an incredible group of people coming together to celebrate diversity as well as the commonality of the human experience. It was a crowd of support and positivity, of recognition and shared ambition.

One of the biggest critiques of the Women’s March that I have heard does not come from bitter men, although there is plenty of that, but rather from other women. Women who see the protest as frivolous; who believe that it is made up of whining women with no real problems; who describe the march as for liberal women only; who say it is #NotMyMarch. But to those women, I say this: we are marching for you, too. We are marching for women regardless of ideology, race, income level, or religion. We are marching for Ivanka and Kellyanne and Melania, and we are marching for you. Not all women have the same experiences. Some women have experienced horrific hardship and trauma due to their gender, while others’ experiences have been less affected. Not all women are cisgender. Not all women have been sexually assaulted. Not all women have been blatantly demeaned or harassed or intimidated. But that shouldn’t matter, should it?

I was fortunate enough to grow up next to my two sisters under the parental guidance of a mother and father who always taught us that we were worthy of just as much as anyone else. We were reminded day after day that our gender should never hold us back. And yet, I still have experienced my own #metoo moments. I still have been subject to unwarranted harassment and have doubted myself, while struggling to gain the same recognition as my male counterparts. So no, not everyone’s experience is the same. And yet I march. I march for my sisters, and my friends, and my colleagues, and my fellow women regardless. Because I can’t know everyone’s stories. But I do know that everyone is deserving of equality. Each and every person is deserving of respect and opportunity and freedom.

Each individual’s experiences will vary, but it is clear that the rights of women and minorities are under attack. There is simply no denying it. Women are lacking equal pay, reproductive autonomy, equal representation in government and beyond, and are subject to harassment and assault at the hands of powerful men regardless of geography or industry. Intolerance of humans with different religions, skin tones, and countries of origin is skyrocketing. We cannot ignore this.

It can feel overwhelming, taking on the burden of everyone’s plights, but I believe it is the most necessary thing for humans to do. We must use our voice to stand up for those without. I must use my privilege as a white, middle-class, cisgender woman to amplify the voices of everyone who lacks my privileges. I must do my best to listen, and learn, and try to understand the difficulties that those around me face, even though they may not be my difficulties. So, perhaps those women are right. Perhaps it is #Not(Their)March. But that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be marching. In fact, it is the exact reason they should be.

I have never considered myself a marcher. But I no longer have the luxury of ignorance and passivity. None of us do. Our country is at a critical crossroads. We must all stand up and fight for the rights and recognition of our fellow humans before it is too late.

We must all march.

By: Cianna Allen