In a gentle way, you can shake the world.
— Mahatma Gandhi

Join us in peace...

Wilmington Women's March

Saturday. January 21. 10am to noon

Begins at 3rd + Princess

Some time while I was in college (those days are a bit of a blur now that I'm the big 3-0), my pops ordered an American flag out of some sort of alt-hippie catalogue that sold rainbow patches and We-can-do-it tees. Only, this American flag didn't have any stars. In place of the 50 five-pointers was a white peace sign. 

Daddy ordered the flag just in time for the Fourth so the fam would have it to fly at the oceanfront rental house we stayed in on our annual two week family vacay to the beach. We always brought our own flag to be sure we had one to fly for the big night of fireworks and festivities and the days leading up to it. I thought my dad was pretty dang cool to order that flag myself. To dare to be different (as he does on the reg). But, as it turns out, some people who passed by thought it was unpatriotic. "Huh?" my teenage mind wondered. "Isn't this the land of the free? And, isn't freedom to express our opinions about peace and justice supposed to what we're all about on Independence Day?" 

The point of the flag wasn't to stir the pot. It was a nonviolent and silent demonstration of peace. It was a statement without words. 

Tomorrow a group of sisters will roam the streets of Capital Hill and probably every major city in the US with the same idea in mind. We'll dress up in red, white and blue. We'll be live on the 'gram ( case you didn't know that's what the cool kids and rap stars call it these days) and in the news with our hand-written posters hugging and loving on each other like we were actresses in the Vagina Monologues. And, we'll be waving our freak flags with peace signs on 'em because we can. It's America, y'all. This home of the brave isn't called a melting pot for no reason. We're all different. We all have different skin and hair and styles and views. Some of us are boys and some of us are girls and some of us are somewhere in between. But we're here for each other and we're marching just to make that clear. United. Not divided.

I'm not a Nasty Woman. Nasty is a label that won't define me. I'm a Namaste Woman. That's because I see, honor and believe in each and every one of you–man, woman or child. That's all I'm trying to say. Peace. Love. Respect. And, Namaste.