Mighty

When I was little, my mom took me to a few town halls and political rallies. I remember some of those experiences–especially meeting Representative Peter DeFazio, who later wrote me a letter!–fondly.

Yesterday, I took my seven-year-old, Li’l D to his first rally. We met up with a couple thousand other Angelenos opposed to the Dakota Access Pipeline.

protect-sign

“Why are they even protesting?” asked a couple of young men who passed us as we walked toward the rally. “Isn’t it over?”

I shook my head and said, “No. The Army Core of Engineers denied easement, but DAPL proceeds. They’re fighting against the ruling and still very much on the ground in Standing Rock.”

“Damn,” murmured one.

“Yep,” I said, as Li’l D and I parted ways with them.

I’ve told Li’l D that there are hundreds of oil pipelines crossing portions of the U.S. Apart from transporting fossil fuels whose extraction contributes to climate change, they break and explode often, resulting in pollution, injury, and even death. While the rally was about one pipeline, I explained, it was also about all pipelines, fossil fuels, rights of indigenous peoples, and the rights of children who deserve better from adults. (He already knows about the inspiring Our Children’s Trust federal climate lawsuit, which can’t proceed quickly enough for me!)

Li’l D made his own signs, of which he was proud. He held them up for five or ten minutes before handing them to me. (Of course!)

d-signs

While he quickly grew bored, I was invigorated by the palpable love, passion, and commitment of the people around me.

I wrote last week about some of the many ways individuals can express their loving might. You are mighty, I concluded.

Marching yesterday, I felt in ways I can’t begin to articulate that our individual might is eclipsed by something else: Our might.

We are far mightier than we realize.

We are mighty.

 

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