The women's march in Helena

Standing up for our beliefs

When I heard there was a Women’s March at our state Capitol, I knew I was in. As a young girl I learned how standing up for what you believe in can only happen through action.

Raising two young men, my husband and I thought this would be a great opportunity to have them join. Our 11- and 15-year-olds were incredibly moved by what they saw. I think my reasons were obvious as to why I was going — keeping the rights that were already fought for and the battles that have already been won in place, and speaking up for injustices that are being brought up by our new administration.

But when I asked the boys why they would want to go, they said — mom, we have to show love, and we can’t just sit here. —Lisa Kelley, Whitefish

We are ‘really not happy’

Theodore Roosevelt said, “To stand by the president, right or wrong, is not only unpatriotic and servile, but is morally treasonable to the American public.”

Being one of 10,000 people at the Women’s March in Helena on Jan. 21 was empowering and affirming. I’ve never protested anything before, but with all that Trump has said and done, I felt compelled to march. Doing so made me feel extra proud and grateful to be an American.

Did I agree with every sign I saw? No. But I agreed with most of them. And most of them, from “Tweet me with Respect,” to “The Golden Rule,” and “The Truth. Please.” were an earnest call to the president for more decency and commitment to upholding American values. This was coupled by pink pussy hats and posters that said “Not a Paid Protestor” and “Resist,” communicating a commitment to speaking out against the dehumanizing and dismissive comments and commitments our elected leader broadcasts.

It was inspiring to witness the power of solidarity and engage in a continued conversation about what it means to be American and what Americans stand for.

The overriding sentiment was for “We the People,” who came out in hundreds of thousands on Saturday, in cities all around the world, to say we are, overwhelmingly, “really not happy about this.” America is not in carnage. It is a beautiful land full of promise and people who deserve respect, the truth, and someone, or hundreds of thousands of someones, to stand up for and with them. This is what democracy looks like. —Katie Clarke, Whitefish

Why I marched

I’ve been a teaching artist for 20-plus years. For the past year, I have been traveling to small, underserved communities in remote areas of the state. Last week I was on the east side of the Divide, where I taught Blackfeet children, Hutterite children and Chippewa-Cree teens. If the National Endowment for the Humanities loses it’s funding, as the president has ordered, I will likely lose my job.

My life’s work has been social justice through teaching art. I have two children of my own. I disagree strongly with Trump’s rhetoric of exclusion and the example it sets for all children.

In spite of it being 7 degrees last Saturday in Helena there was an atmosphere of pure joy at the march. Our section of folks chanted “No Hate in Our State” as we marched. Strangers introduced themselves to one another. The organizers did a roll call with cheering and all corners of our vast state were represented!

There was so much diversity in the crowd. I saw Native American teenage girls. I saw older white men. I saw young families with babies. I saw every age represented. I saw friends marching together, groups of colleagues, families and some who had come alone. I saw cowboy hats, wheelchairs and rainbow capes. It felt amazing to be amongst 10,000 people who were all there to stand up for POSITIVE values: inclusion, respect, truth, forward progress, love, diversity and unity. I was proud to exercise my First Amendment right and speak truth to power, along with 10,000 of my fellow Montanans. I marched to be an ally to my students, my children, my LGBTQ friends, my immigrant friends, my friends and family who struggle with disabilities.

I marched because, politics and policy aside, a bully and a liar is not a leader. Since inauguration day, I personally am in danger of losing my job, my health care, and my right to choose. White supremacists have directly threatened my friends and my town. I marched because I am afraid. I marched because, in the words of Martin Luther King, “In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.” No one has the luxury of silence anymore. —Jenny Bevill, Whitefish