We Joined A Bunch of Protesters Marching Through The Streets Of Dallas Following President Trump’s Inauguration On Friday.
All photos by Kathy Tran.
This past Friday, disdain for our Great Orange Leader was felt deep in the heat of Dallas. So, Dallas does what the blue county does best: throw a good ol’ protest all thanks to the NTX Resistance.
I would have been an idiot not to participate. Señor Tiny Hands hates me for a number of reasons. I’m a woman, I come from a family of immigrants and, above all, I’m part of the “fake” media. (Seriously, has anyone ever heard of Central Track? Sad.)
After scribbling out a very sweet and heartfelt message: “Trump, I’d call you a pussy but you lack the warmth and depth,” I decided to march right to Dealey Plaza. As we know, a lot of shit goes down at Dealey.
It started small, about 50 or 60 protesters present, gathered around the plaza lawn. As the crowd was growing, so was the media. It wasn’t long before we saw a few news helicopters fly by that I knew this shit was getting serious. Sure enough, it was time to march and as stopped on Ross Avenue and I took a look at the protesters that I realized this was bigger than I thought, and not just numerically.
I marched alongside mothers who feared their families would be torn apart due to mass deportation. I marched alongside members of the LGBTQ+ community who wanted to be heard, understood and respected just as everyone else. I marched alongside members of the BLM movement who wanted to put an end to police brutality. They all had different messages with the same underlying tone: get Cheetoloni out of here and get someone in office who is going to understand us or at least show a little sympathy to groups like ours.
And of course, with any argument there will always be a counter argument or else, things just wouldn’t be so fun, now would they? The protesting march was met with one counter-protester who held a flimsy sign saying: “YOU’RE ALL CRYBABIES.” Of course, he is entitled to just as much of an opinion as we are because, no matter your documentation status, orientation or skin color, if you’re in the United States you have your First Amendment right. Ironically enough though, his flimsy paper sign was eventually cut in half due to the wind – or perhaps maybe the message wasn’t as strong and as passionate as the cries of a bunch of so-called babies?
No matter the case, revolution has never been a crybaby matter.