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Sunday, February 5, 2017

(Just Pics & Just Video) - Portland Women's March 2017

She goes to one rally and now she's all:
 

 I mean, you can't even make this shit up. Sure, I gave her some guidance in what types of things she could say on her sign, in the context of some of what the march was about. Sure, I wrote the bubble letters on the sign. But those are her words. She decorated the sign herself. She carried that sign. That call-and-response chant is hers, one she and her daddy made up and sang while they walked around/waited at the march. And those dance moves? One.Hundred.Percent.ALL.HERS.

As written in my last post, I did not actually participate in the Women's March. However, my outspoken husband and spitfire daughter did, along with my own dad, and I am now the proud owner of several powerful and adorable photos of their experience. I did help make the signs the night before, and I was wearing my own Wild Feminist matching sweatshirt to work at RIO that day.

This photo is from the inaugural day protests at Pioneer Square that Alex attended.

Also from Friday's protest, which I imagine was much more about "dissent" than "unity.

I drafted a few posters - the materials on hand, even! - for Francie to choose from and decorate.

Friday evening family time - poster decoration.

"I'm the boss of my body" is something Francine has long said, which is rooted more in the idea of her body is hers alone, and that others, including her parents, need permission to touch her body. But it is also something we talk about when it comes to her learning to read and interpret the signals from her own body, whether tiredness, hunger, etc., in that she knows her own body better than anyone else can assume to, and because she's the boss of her body, she's also in charge of taking good care of it.

Alex wrote me a sweet note that I woke up to before heading  bright and early to RIO.

The final product posters.

Rockin' the Wild Feminist sweatshirt at work.

It's probably not very feminist of me to draw extra attention to my crow's feet here, and the subsequent self-loathing, is it?

Meanwhile back home, more Wild Feminists abound ...












Apparently it was very wet and cold and over-stimulating, as I can only imagine, but our Bean was a total superstar trooper. Turns out her rainboots had a hole in the bottom, which is why she was so darned cold, and Beebee was nothing less than a superhero who lent her his socks and gave the very fleece jacket off his back.


And meanwhile, in Tahoe (Kings Beach), Francie was also marching "with" her other socially liberal, active, and very supportive grandparents, and even great-grandmother (who has a long history of participation in activism).

Grandma Lambie, Papa, Mimi, and Kara.

Marchin' Mimi.

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