...and though I am still angry I don't feel as isolated as I did a few mere hours ago. Tim stopped by to pick me up and Ryan came along at the last moment, and we picked up Tim's friend Dave and headed to West Hollywood, where a big rally was taking place to protest the passage of Proposition 8. When we first got there, there were speakers emphasizing what we need to do now, what we have NOT lost. Ryan and I got separated from the others and ended up next to a gay couple whose young daughter was all smiles at all the people around her. Best sign: I WANT THE SAME RIGHTS THE CHICKENS GOT (in reference to Prop 2, which makes it law that egg-laying hens need to be treated humanely).
Just before 8 p.m., a guy moved through the crowd and said we were going to "take the intersection" at Santa Monica Boulevard and San Vicente, so Ryan and I headed with a big chunk of the crowd into the middle of the intersection, chanting, yelling, clapping. Already, it was cathartic to be surrounded by so many people who were just as angry as I was. We were drifting eastward on Santa Monica until suddenly people in front of us said "Go to Sunset! Go to Sunset!" And so we did--a wave of hundreds of people crossing traffic and heading uphill through residential areas to the busy Sunset Strip--which is much more straight, to boot. And at the Viper Room we turned right on to Sunset and saw emptying eastbound lanes in front of us.
The police presence at first was minimal, as I think we surprised them. After all, we left the rally in the middle of the speeches. We need to yell and scream and remind ourselves that we were not alone--that others felt this way, that we were angry, outraged, and hopeful for the future. Especially on the march down Sunset through what is ostensibly a straight (and often gross) ground zero for scenester nightlife, it was gratifying to get affirmative honks from westbound traffic, see businesses empty as workers came out to stare or hoot with us, give us a thumbs up, or just smile--strippers, waiters, valets, limo drivers, truck drivers, Starbucks employees, even straight guys who looked befuddled and then would honk.
And the march kept going... We didn't know til later that several groups had splintered from the rally and that WeHo police stopped a second wave of protestors further back. Our march continued through Hollywood, as mystified restaurant patrons and others came to Sunset to see what the news was broadcasting. And through it all, only ONE guy heckled us, calling us disgusting and he was drowned out by boos and people yelling "SHAME ON YOU!" We ended up at Sunset and Highland... a good 2 to 2 1/2 miles from where we started, Ryan by my side, yelling and screaming, holding my hand, smiling at me every step of the way.
We'd lost Tim et al back at the rally and now there was no easy way to reunite, so Ryan and I hopped the subway and then got on a quick bus ride to get home... walking in the door, feeling relieved, lighter, buzzed from adrenaline, legs throbbing, throats sore. It's been a while since I have been part of any spontaneous protest like this--especially in L.A., a city not known for its protests. I can;t say if they really do help in the long run, but I'd be happy for more just to share some more time with such an amazing cross section of people.
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