For the past month or so, I have been processing—then the Women’s March happened. I went back and forth on whether or not I was going to attend. Not because I didn’t want to, but because—would it even matter? Would people who don’t look like me even care? Would they GET IT? Then I said, you know what…I CARE! And that was enough for me.

My faith was restored in humanity as I watched almost every news outlet cover the marches taking place in the United States as well as around the world. Yes, you read that right—AROUND THE WORLD: Australia, Canada, Ghana, Costa Rica, France, Iceland,  and Japan…just to name a few! This was (and still is) so much bigger than a “Women’s March”. This is about coming together in solidarity to restore hope into our future and for generations to come. It’s about being part of history, and for that I’m grateful.

Protest Signs at the Women’s March Alabama (Birmingham)

Seeing women, men (including my HB), and children from all walks of life marching alongside me soaking in this moment of history-in-the-making was beyond empowering—and beyond the sea of pink hats you saw on the TV screen. People marched for “Nasty Women” to be treated fairly and equally. People marched against racism just like they did in the Civil Rights Movement decades ago. In this very same place. The place of my birth—Birmingham.

We marched the streets of Birmingham where black folk were killed for peacefully marching for their rights in hopes of paving the way for women (and people of color) like me, just like it was described in this poem about the Freedom March. They marched so that I would have the right to vote as a woman. They marched so that I didn’t have to use a water fountain or bathroom that was labeled “colored”. They marched for me to be treated like a human being.



I. MARCH. because black lives do matter, and because I’m tired of unarmed black men being killed unjustifiably at an alarming rate, especially by those who took an oath to protect them. I. MARCH. because little black boys and girls deserve a fair shot at life, without being judged based off of their skin alone. I. MARCH. for women who get harassed simply because they wear a hijab, and because someone doesn’t want to take the time to understand their culture.

I. MARCH. so that I, as a woman, can have rights to healthcare just like everyone else, and so that women can have the right to make choices when it comes to THEIR body. I. MARCH. because “Love Trumps Hate!”


I. MARCH. because silence is not an option.

Here are a few photos from the Women’s March of Alabama (Birmingham). No captions needed.



Let us not turn a deaf ear and look away when we see injustices taking place.

Let us not stay silent.

Let this NOT be the last time we march…together…in solidarity.

Let us continue to march for equal rights for all human beings. Let us show love and compassion as we remember the Sandra Blands, the disabled, our veterans, the woman facing one of the most difficult decisions of her life after being raped, the woman who just wants to have access to healthcare and a better chance at life and an education for her family (no matter how she got here), or the woman who just wants to be loved and accepted, because that is what we are supposed to do…LOVE all people.

If you can’t march…speak up. And whatever you do, don’t remain silent.


My Pretty Brown Fit

2 comments on “Because Silence Is Not An Option”

  1. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and wonderful pictures from the march! As troubling as the headlines are these days, it is inspiring to see posts such as this — that are energetic and hopeful for a better future.

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