girl at large

New World on Order

I can order any item I want---from baby formula to a winter coat, and it arrives at my door the next day. I can read hundreds of magazines, newspapers and journals (enjoying Science!); all of them are now literally at my finger tips. The world enters my home, my work, my life. I can listen to any radio program, when I want, where I want. On demand, it's all on demand. We are takers.

A week ago today Mom and I were on the Washington Mall, in a sea of pink pussy hats. It felt wonderful to be relaxed, not on guard, not defensive. Everywhere I looked, every eye I caught, every whoop and wave was affirming. "I'm not crazy, I'm not overreacting, this situation truly isn't normal." And most profoundly: "I am not alone."

We are not alone. The world is in our handbags, but we are not in the world. The world is a big, beautiful, messy, human place. I want to be a part of it. America, be a part of it.

 

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I Recognize You

The roads got more and more narrow as we made our way through the Ohio country side in search of the Interrstate. As we came over a hill, clumps of small children walking along the roadside came in to sight through the fog. Small, umbrella-ed Amish children on their way to school.

On the crowded Metra train into D.C., a cheerful black gal thanked us for "being there for the working ladies" as she went from completing one shift to starting her next shift at a second job.

At the bakery, we sat near a charming family of two white parents and two Asian daughters, the most talkative one gesturing enthusiastically with her disabled arm.

As we walked through the crowd, a group broke into a Hebrew song that spread in pockets up the muddy slope.

The line for the portapotty was chockablock with families of all makes and models, all patiently waiting for only one loo. The faces of the crowd were varied, but all were the same in one way---warm, open, and returning every smile.

This is the America I know. Hi, I've missed you. It's good to be with you again. We got this.

 

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