People filled downtown streets Saturday for the Memphis Women’s March, one of the many sister marches to the Women’s March on Washington, D.C.
More than 9,000 people filled streets once occupied by civil rights workers, civil disobedience protestors and Martin Luther King Jr. himself. They bore an array of signs – some bright pink, tongue-in-cheek, feminist messages to the newly elected president and some with simple slogans, like “rise up,” “respect” or “equality.”
Organizers worked to keep the Women’s March intersectional, nonpartisan and, in a key word, united.
At 10 a.m., the sun beamed down on the steps of the Judge D’army Bailey Courthouse, where speakers Terri Lee Freeman, president of the National Civil Rights Museum, and Adrienne Leslie Bailey inspired the crowd to begin the march. The museum, built around the former Lorraine Motel, was the site where Martin Luther King Jr. was fatally shot.
As women in Memphis, Tennessee, began the trek down Second Street, women across the nation also walked, bearing similar signs and chanting corresponding war cries. A worldwide coalition, if you will, marching across the world for a bounty of reasons, both broad and personal, that include women’s rights, LGBT rights, climate change and immigration.
Some women marched with family in a different part of the world. Phoebe Driscoll, a Los Angeles transplant who now lives in Memphis, said she marched in solidarity with her mother, sister and adopted sister, who walked in Washington.
Others traveled to Memphis to join family or to march in a city of much significance to the progress of civil rights. Many who marched today witnessed that turbulent era, whose legacy lies rooted deep throughout Tennessee and Mississippi, firsthand.
The Kriegels, a mother and sister trio, rested together in the shaded grass outside the museum after making the mile-long march down Second Street.
The Kriegels cited a grave concern for the country under the current president but said they had reasons close to their hearts to march in Memphis.
“We also chose to march in Memphis since it’s our hometown, and we really wanted to honor the long legacy of civil rights and our mom who marched back in the ’60s, during the garbage worker strike and right before Dr. King was shot,” Lara Kriegel, who drove from Indiana for the march, said. “We thought this would be a great place to do this together, to tie our family history and our various struggles together.”
Mothers pushed strollers, families walked in clumps and mother-daughter pairs abounded.
Alice Shands marched with three generations of her family– her daughter and 4-year-old granddaughter.
Shands, who advised organizers for the march, said planning for an event began right after the election, and through conversation and community groups like Together We Will West Tennessee (Shands’ group), the plans were put into motion to form a women’s march.
“I was in on the beginning of it,” Shands said. “I did not organize it. I’ve become the grand old lady of these things, where I can say, ‘Great, you all take off and do it. Then, tell me what you need me to do.”
Thursday, Shands organized an interfaith pre-inauguration prayer service at the Memphis Theological Seminary. Shands said a handful of Jewish women, Muslim women, Christian women and Athiest women came together for a unified service that ended in a singing of “We Shall Overcome.”
At Saturday’s march, Shands marched alongside women of all faiths, all who are defined by their unique intersections in society.
Debora Black and Nevada Gates of Memphis marched, mother by daughter, after taking in the election results, which they said left a bitter taste in both of their mouths.
“The first day or two, the both of us, we sort of had a meltdown,” Gates, Black’s mother, said. “But we said, ‘We can’t stay
down; we have to get up.’ But I didn’t want to go to Washington because I didn’t want to be in that number. That makes him greater, a big number. When I heard about this march here, I said, ‘We have to go.’”
A youthful group converged after the march at the museum, chanting a few more lines in unity, each emphasizing individual lines with a fist pump or a wave of their sign.
What do we do? Stand up fight back!
When queer people are under attack?
What do we do? Stand up fight back!
When immigrants are under attack?
What do we do? Stand up fight back!
Nearby, Karen Spencer McGee stood with a Black Lives Matter banner, burning a stick of sage.
“I fight for education for Memphis. I fight for LGBT — everybody that is marginalized, everybody that is pushed to the side
and mocked,” she said. “I was born here in ’63. I shouldn’t be fighting the same fight my mama was fighting while she was carrying me. I came to Memphis to live. This is my Memphis… and we need to heal Memphis. This isn’t a colored issue– this is a human issue.”
Participant numbers continue to climb among the women’s marches, vastly surpassing projected numbers. Before the march in Memphis, Shands said organizers felt positive about a few hundred people showing up.
“What happens in Memphis, what happens in Little Rock, what happens in Nashville and what happens in Jackson, Mississippi,” Shands began. “When you start adding this up, all of us that could not go to Washington but felt compelled to say, ‘Wait a minute, these issues matter to us!’ That’s what this is about.”