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I always promised myself that I wouldn’t get too political on my blog. I have my opinions, I try to respect that others have differing ones, and sometimes I think it’s better for the real world to stay away from my creative ones. But… yeah, no. I can’t do it.

The first ten days of this current presidency are mind-boggling and, frankly, terrifying. I live in the Washington, DC area, and there are protests absolutely everywhere I turn. After fifteen years living here, that actually shouldn’t be that big of a deal. There are protests all the time in DC, especially at this time of the year. But this, this is different. The city is swarming with protests, and I wait with bated breath. Why?

Because I am not a protester. I am not a marcher. That’s not now, nor do I think it shall ever be, my thing. And there’s a part of me that felt bad about that not being my thing when I saw the strength of the protests that are happening. I fully support them, but you’re never going to catch me out there. Does that make me a bad citizen for justice? Maybe, but I firmly believe that work has to be ongoing, both in your face and in the background, consistent and PERSISTENT, and never-wavering.

I’m a small business owner. In my day job, I’m a family law attorney (read: divorce). That has to be my priority, to take care of my family. I vote Democrat because I have no problem paying higher taxes to support other families that are not as fortunate as I am. But I’m an attorney. I spent three years learning how to research to find answers for clients (because that’s about as practical as law school gets). If I’m going to help, I’m going to do it in the way that a lot of laypeople can’t. I’m going to use my degree.

To that end, I’ve signed up to be a volunteer cooperating attorney with the ACLU. Researching and writing motions and briefs. ACLU attorneys would have to review and sign off on them, and actually argue the cases, but they’re going to need a ton of attorneys to do some of that legwork for them, because I have a strong suspicion that they’re going to have their hands full for a while.

So, you will not see me in the marches. You may not see me at the airports, and you probably won’t see my names on any of the papers filed. But know that I’m there, that I’m fighting, and that I will fight until equal rights means equal rights for all.

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