This Friday President-electzD`WVCT Trump took the oath of office and became the 45th president of the United States. The gloomy weather and the fact that Campus looked like a ghost town painted a perfect picture (God has a crazy sense of humor). The mall was apparently a ghost town as well from the aerial photos the turnout was historic--- historically low. I didn't watch but I held onto my seat waiting for a text telling me my nightmare had become a reality. My sentiments were I couldn't scream and cry and give up mother Sojourner would not have that. I did the only thing that I could do I decided to fight back. My first action was to go to the Women's March on Washington the following day.

I woke up at 10 am to head to the March unsure of exactly what I would be in store for. The metro was jam packed with supporters of various agendas and opinions ranging from defending climate change to getting rid of Black Lives Matter. A litany of signs illuminated the usual gloomy metro some were eye catching some I felt shouldn't have ever seen the light of day everyone has a right to their opinion but I digress. None the less it took me an hour to get to L'Enfant plaza and join in on the action. The program consisted of women of all races and creeds speaking out about their agendas, their unique experiences that had brought them there that day. I can admit I shed a tear or 73 during many of the speeches. They were moving and heartfelt and I really connected with many of the women who stood up there and bared their souls for the world.

Despite the amazing time I had listening to Alicia Keys, Maxine Waters, and America Ferrera I was still bothered. As I stood in the crowd surrounded by cream I couldn't help but think that many of those women wouldn't be there had their healthcare not threatened. This was evident by the silent Awkward stares whenever Black lives matter got riled up or when Angela Davis spoke about freeing her friends who are still political prisoners. As a Black woman, I hold a unique perspective I have to deal with making less than my counterparts, my body doesn't matter and when it does its oversexualized. I also deal with racism and oppression just like Black men. by one decision to vote for Trump my healthcare as well as my life had been threatened. But my life is threatened every day.

As I stood there amongst women cheering I had to remember that 53% of white women voted Trump into office. Also that the women at that March were the neighbors, mothers, daughters, and friends of the 53%. The fact is is that many of them were either too uncomfortable or too busy to check their friends and family members. Don't get me wrong I do believe that that there were women out there who go hard for Black lives but my issue is with the women who went out there to do a "good thing" patting themselves on the back and cheering in the metro proud that they were doing their good deed for the day. Doing all that then going home but failing to check their coworkers in their church today. It's not enough to march anymore it takes going home and making a real change. I really get tired of being on the front lines for everybody else and everything else but when it comes to defending my humanity as an African-American in this country the mic is cut. It was very discouraging that the women of color that spoke had to keep reminding everyone that after planned parenthood is saved and health care is no longer threatened we will still need people to march for our right to exist as AFRICAN-AMERICANS. Again I found myself questioning if they'd be there then.

In the end it just wasn't enough for me that the women who organized the event were Black, Palestian, and minorities I still felt that white women picked the re entrenchment of white supremacy over feminism and now that their white supremacy is safe they wanted to focus on their sexual health but where does that leave women who are still Black at the end of the day? When will feminism include black bodies?