The women’s march on January 21st was AMAZING. I took my eight year old daughter, and was in awe of every one of the females I witnessed, listened to, and met. (And the men supporting them.) I came home with a warm buzzing throughout my entire body and mind for the rest of the day, and into Sunday. I even wrote a post about my daughter and my experience. And a month later, I can still feel the energy of that day. But another feeling is begging to be noticed as well. Familiar complacency. Because up until now, my caucasian, somewhat privileged life has been pretty easy. Routine,even. Drop offs/pick ups at school, afternoon coffee breaks, family movie nights, the whole shebang. And although I never tolerated hatred and bigotry around me, (you can read about this on my last post) Since adulthood, I rarely ever witness, or even read about it. But after the election (and before), it is so out, relevant, and in.my.face. (As well it should be.) It seems to get worse everyday. And with every story I read, or incident I witness (Last week while at a stoplight, I heard an older white male scream threats and profanity at a young black man who was attempting to cross the street) I not only feel sorrow for the death of my previous assumptions about how “far” we have come in this country, (we elected an educated black man as president for crying out loud! Twice!) and for how naive I was, I also feel something else. RAGE. Like a small spark that began as a unnoticeable twitch in my gut, it is growing into a full blown blaze that threatens to consume me from the inside out. And so my “Stop, Drop, and Roll” instinct is kicking in, along with burying my head in some ice cream and stop reading. This is not the answer, so now, I am working on not extinguishing it, but rather using it to continue to make my voice heard above all of the hatred and helping others’ voices that have been muted in the past to rise as well. I am learning to contain it until the moment is right to let it out. Like when fire departments use flames to burn old brush away to allow for regrowth. ALL women have this power. But we as white women who currently have a stronger chance of being heard, MUST imagine the regrowth after our combined burn. If we KEEP this image in our minds, the nagging complacency doesn’t stand a chance.