On Wednesday, January 18, 2017 my family hopped on a train to Washington, D.C. to celebrate the inauguration of President Donald J. Trump and do some site seeing in the nation’s capital. On the morning of Saturday, January 20, we boarded the Metro in Virginia and headed into the District of Columbia for what we thought would be a typical day spent visiting Washington’s museums. We found ourselves accidentally caught up in the wretched [Liberal] Women’s March on Washington. Continue on for what we experienced and photographs of the event.
Hand-Knit Pink Hats
While waiting to purchase our Metro cards my wife and daughter were engaged by the first of numerous people who assumed we had journeyed out to participate in the march. Both were offered hand-knit pink hats. My wife politely declined the offer.
I was at first struck by the fact that by making hand-knit pink hats the symbol of the march those behind it seemed to be perpetuating what the Left considers gender stereotypes since pink is often thought of as a female color and knitting as a woman’s activity. I then realized that the hand-knit pink hats were a conscious strategic decision.
In the last presidential election more total votes were cast for the three Right leaning candidates (Trump, Johnson and McMullin received 49.76 %) than the two Left leaning candidates (Clinton and Stein won 49.1 %.) The 2016 presidential election represented a rejection of the Leftist politics of the Democrat party. Yet to truly understand what is going on in America you have to also examine politics on the state level. In 2017 the Democrats now have less combined state and federal political power than at any time since the Civil War. The American voter has turned its back on the Democrats because the party has adopted the politics of Leftist extremism. The use of knitting and the color pink represented a desperate attempt to draw the average American woman voter who has turned her back on the Democrats to the politics of those marching. Trying to make use of what it considers the gender stereotypes of knitting and pink for political gain is an example of the type of double standard that is present in almost everything the Left says, does and believes.
Our Metro Ride
That the march was to take place that day was not a surprise to me. What I had not realized was the subway car we entered in Virginia that morning lay along a line that took marchers to one of the focal points of the rally that preceded the march. We stepped into a standing room only car. One stop later a few more people got on and the car was packed to capacity. For the next 1.5 hours we stood packed in like sweating sardines. I was very proud of my seven-year-old daughter who handled this trying ordeal without having a meltdown.
A number of people who surrounded us again engaged my family under the assumption that we were traveling to the march. The fact that hundreds of thousands of people like us were in D.C. that weekend who supported Trump and rejected the politics of the marchers appeared to be lost on them. Liberals cannot seem to comprehend that moral, rational people could be pro-Trump and anti-March on Washington and so the marchers took it for granted that we were “with” them.
Our Arrival at the Smithsonian Metro Stop
When we arrived at the Smithsonian Metro stop and the door to the cars opened allowing us to disembark the relief we felt was extreme. We did not know the worst was yet to come. We picked a station exit to walk toward and started moving along with the crowd. When we reached an escalator leading about thirty feet to the surface we found that a D.C. policeman had pulled a gate across the exit that blocked our progress. He told us we had to exit out the other side of the station. It was obvious why. There was no room at the top of the escalators for people to step off. Even though the escalators were shut off it would have been a safety risk to allow us to walk up only to remain stuck in place on the escalators. None of us were happy that we had to turn back around and walk to the opposite side of the Metro station. All but one of us remained calm and understood that we had no choice but to obey the instructions of the cop. One white female college student lost her mind. She hurled a string of expletives at the policeman and ended her tirade by telling him: “You’re not going to tell me I can’t march today.” As I watched and listened I wanted so badly for the self-righteous, self-important twit to go one step too far and get herself arrested for disorderly conduct. I am sure her parents are really proud that they have a daughter who talks like a teamster. She was a class act all the way.
We did eventually make our way to the surface. I asked a D.C. policeman for directions to the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History. He pointed me toward a building surrounded by a crowd of marchers packed as densely as humanly possible. I picked up my child, grabbed my wife by the hand and we proceeded to make our way through the crowd.
Signs Carried by the Marchers and the Messages Scrawled on their Clothing
I quickly noticed that many of the signs carried by the marchers and messages scrawled on the clothing they wore were obscene. I saw numerous examples of the “f” word being proclaimed in association with Trump’s name. One young woman walked past us going the opposite direction with what amounted to a sandwich board covering her body with “F*#K TRUMP” written on it. I told her: “There are children present! Have some decently.” She offered me no response because there was no defending her sign.
Even more present than the “f” word was the slang term for a woman’s genitals that begins with a “p.” As we navigated the crowd and circled the building we had been pointed to in search of an entrance I held my breath. My daughter does not know the “f” or “p” words but she does know how to sound them out. I knew that at any moment she might ask me what “f*#k” and/or p*&&y” means. An even greater concern was for our personal safety. If something caused a panic and a stampede resulted our lives would be at risk.
One twenty-something young man held a sign that read: “Abort!” He presumably felt it necessary to tell the world how much of an enthusiastic supporter he was of the killing of babies inside their mother’s womb. Another twenty-something male’s sign read: “40,000 Children are in Foster Care. Support Planned Parenthood.” He seemly feels it is better to kill babies than hand them over to loving foster families.
Quite a few of the signs attempted to ridicule Trump on the basis of his appearance. Stopping “body shaming” has been one of the Left’s favorite causes of late. That the marchers felt it acceptable to go after Trump on the basis of his looks is another example of how Liberals embrace double standards.
A good number of marchers used signs and apparel to identify themselves as a “nasty woman.” From the looks of them I had no trouble believing they came as advertised.
A last thought on the rhetoric of the march I wish to share is that it reinforced the notion that Feminists think it is empowering for women to be vulgar. Why would they believe such a thing? It can only be because they feel women should behave more masculine. Unfortunately, it is the worst aspects of common male behavior (vulgarity, promiscuity, aggression and heavy drinking) that Feminists encourage in women.
We Were Going in the Wrong Direction
After what seemed like an eternity of passing through the assembled masses it occurred to me that we had been directed to the wrong building. We had to reverse course and retrace our steps. When we got to a point where the crowd was thinner I consulted a map. We were on the wrong side of the National Mall!
As we headed across the Mall I was able to take stock of everything I had seen. The marchers were 99% white. All appeared to be middle-middle-class or upper-middle-class. Every one seemed to fit into one of several categories: lesbian couples, elderly hippies and people who were too young to have gained the wisdom and perspective necessary to understand how the world works. I was astonished at how many marchers had brought young children to the march some of whom were just infants. All large crowds are potentially dangerous. These children were put at risk by the adults who brought them.
As we approached the front entrance to the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History we realized that our ordeal was not yet over. The march route blocked our way into the museum! I looked left and right and saw that there was no break in the steel barriers that had been set up to separate the marchers from the spectators. If we respected the barriers we would have to walk either to the beginning or the end of the march before we could cross over. I had a quick conversation with my wife. We agreed that we had had enough of the craziness and need to get off the Mall and into the museum. “We’re going,” we decided. My wife grabbed one of the big barriers and gave a yank. She created an opening just big enough for a person to squeeze through. We dashed into the breach before the D. C. Police could stop us. Since the marchers were moving horizontal to us it was with much difficulty that we crossed the march route. Once on the other side we were again faced with the steel barriers. This time it was me who pulled them apart. Quick as a flash we were through, up the steps of the museum and inside the building. We agreed that we would not be going outside again until the museum closed at 5:30.
Our View from the Museum Entrance
Our Trip Back to Our Hotel
After leaving the museum we jumped on the Metro’s Red Line and began a trip to Metro Station. We again had to stand. My daughter stood facing a sitting women who still held her sign from the march. She assumed we had come from the march and began a conversation with my child. I could only hear bits and pieces of the exchange in the loud subway car but I could tell she was speaking about the politics of the march. In the packed car I was not able to move an inch and so could not politely intervene and steer the conversion toward something non-political.
Two or three stops later we exited at Metro Station. I picked up my child and asked her what she had said to the woman. She said that she had told her about the animals she saw at the museum. “Did you mention we came to Washington, D.C. because we support Trump?” I inquired. “No, I did not want to get into an argument,” was her matter-of-fact reply. She is a precocious little one.
When we transferred to the Blue Line we were all able to get seats. I sat down across from a woman in her late thirties with a daughter who looked to be about fourteen. The two were having a conversation with a gentleman who identified himself as a journalist. The mom explained that she had been accidentally caught up in the inauguration day riot that had been taken place to protest the free and fair election of Trump and the peaceful transition of power to a new president. A rioter who was wearing a mask and breaking windows with a hammer approached her and threatened: “I will beat your brains out unless you take off that Trump hat.” The Left loves to tell us Republicans that we are intolerant, angry, full of hate and potentially violent. They have it all backwards.
Both mother and daughter made the mistake of attending the march. Both believed the that the march was to be by all women and for all women. In reality it was an anti-Trump march conducted by Liberals most of whom were women. After arriving at the start of the march the daughter was told by a person running the march that she was not allowed to march because she wore a Trump hat. The mom and her daughter exited at the Crystal City stop with the journalist so he could interview both of them with his phone. I hope to find the video and post a link here.
Our Return Trip Home
I Love My Little Girl So Much!
On Sunday we began the day with a visit to Union Station to purchase some inaugural souvenirs. We bought my daughter a hat that read: “Future President.” We later visited the Smithsonian Museum of American History before returning to Union Station to catch an Amtrak train for the journey back home. My child’s wearing of the hat elicited positive comments from five different female strangers. One woman took my daughter’s photograph and three told us they would vote for her. Because of the buttons they wore, their general appearance and the things they said, I judged all to be Hillary supporters and march participants. They again assumed we shared their politics. Did they believe that no Republican family could possible purchase such a hat for their daughter?
Our train trip back to work and school was long and tedious. As we pulled into New York’s Penn Station, the isle of the train car was full with people getting ready to disembark. It was obvious that a number of them were women returning home after participating in the march. One woman noticed my daughter’s hat, leaned over, put her hand on my child’s back and asked both her and my wife if they had participated in the march. I had kept my politics to myself and held my tongue in public about them for two days. Now I could not resist. I conjured up my best Trump imitation and responded in a voice loud enough for everyone around us to hear: “Wrong!” My wife could not control herself and laughed so hard she almost pied her pants.
So closed the book on a fun family vacation and a living civics lesson for my daughter. Click here for my blog about my family’s experiences at the pre-inaugural concert and Donald Trump’s inauguration.
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