February 15, 2003
Awakened Woman's Circle is working for peace
Vigil In Pink
by Kelly Davidson Hicks
There was more than a full moon over the Capitol on January 17. There was magic tonight. In fact, Frank Sinatra might have called it "witchcraft." As one who considers herself more lady in red, joining women in pink in a vigil across from the White House to protest war with Iraq, was somewhat out of character. Not because I haven't marched against injustices, but because I generally prefer doing things on my own. I'm suspect of organized anything, but when I received several cross-postings on the Internet that asked women for peace to gather in a staged march and vigil as part of Code Pink, I couldn't resist.
Rather, I've been resisting the war. I've felt a certain tugging of conscience, even a womb-knowing if you will, that women need to make a strong showing against the current momentum towards war.
Thus, I arrived at the scene in front of the White House where a few gallant women were gathered around a bright pink (shocking pink more to the point) banner that announced Code Pink: Women United For Peace. It was blistering cold and I was glad to learn of an office nearby where vigilers could respite from time to time.
Throughout the afternoon, we were joined by others who were clearly not new to vigils, streets protests, or out right rambunctiousness! We were also joined by a statuesque beauty in full-length leather coat, designer hat and bright pink scarf, replete with pink sunglasses. She had flown in from Atlanta after telling her family, "I can't just sit here and watch what's happening on TV. I've got to do my part."
She was a real trooper too who ended up holding the banner the length of the march, despite my female-catty first appraisal of "who does she think she is?" Because frankly, my protest garb was more make-shift than upscale. And, frankly, my reasons for being there weren't nearly as stand-up as hers, either. Or the woman who flew in from California, or the bus load of women for peace from the mid-west, along with many others. By the appointed time of 5 p.m., there were more than a hundred people aligned for a candle light procession&emdash;a collection of demonstrators made up of all ages, sexes and types.
And then came the magic! We were called to circle and introduced to Starhawk, a global activist and author, who is well-revered on the anti-war and pro-democracy circuit. First off, she made new and old-hand activists feel welcome. That was nice, because even though we were all gathered around the same anti-war banner, it still feels awkward whenever you join a crowd of "others", (after all our species tends towards xenophobia, even those with the best intentions). Then, we were taught a collective chant. "Courage Sister, You do not walk alone, We will stand up for you, and direct your spirit home." We chorused the words, tentatively at first, but soon were into the rhythm and pattern.
The ritual had begun.
We had our own regiment of drummers, musicians, cheer leaders and sparkley dancers, and as we began moving into formation, the event took on a different meaning for me. Suddenly, I was taking steps for the men, women and children who are the true oppressed, who are the hungry, the homeless, the captured, the tormented; the mothers and fathers who bring children into the world only to die. Even though but one in the centuries long march towards a dreamed of world, I was taking some steps.
And, it wasn't "just" about war any more: it was about all the injustices, about all the injuries, about all the inquiries into rightness or wrongness in the world.
It was about a mother, sister, friend, lover sitting alone, somewhere and wondering why she as a woman should make the effort to try anymore, to hold up her head anymore, to even breathe anymore, let alone hope for a better world.
After several blocks and hordes of curious stares, magic worked more of her charm.
We joined the vigil held by Women In Black every Friday night in Farragut Square. Though festooned in pink, we stood in solidarity with them against violence and war in the Middle East. We stood in solidarity against the waste and loss of one child no matter where on the Earth.
We stood as testament that there is an emerging movement of women and men who are determined to stand up on behalf of children everywhere, and ready to fight for all the world's children as we fight for our own. But our weapon is not war. Our weapon is a tool, that of broadening consciousness.
Tonight that awareness came from a shared vigil on a busy street corner in our nation's capitol. Tonight that awareness came as we snaked around one another in a spiral dance in Farragut Square that spoke to essential unity. (Even though there was many a marcher who looked to one another, asking what is a "spiral dance"? Under echoed direction, they joined hands and followed one another seamlessly)
Tonight that awareness was woven in a web of shared connection, under a full January moon, on a frosty winter night, with peace in the air. And, there was witchcraft and a call for humanity's good.