April 5th - You Did Us Proud
As per my unfortunately paywalled (but still delightfully irreverent) podcast, this is my rundown of April 5th and all non-Capitol-storming that ensued.
I'll start by saying I'm exhausted. I don't think any of us realized how much we've held on our shoulders over the past 77 days--which at the time of this posting is 1853 hours, or 111,214 minutes, or 6,672,906 seconds, but who's counting?--in the form of desperation, disappointment, apprehension at the next day's news, and always the question of which human right will we lose today? And the sudden onset of hope in a crowd of over 100,000 people on 5th Avenue in New York City came kind of out of nowhere.
But let me back up.
My kids and I took the train down to the Women's March in Washington D.C. on November 2nd, the Saturday before the presidential election. I wanted them to see history in the making and the power of women coming together to make change for our descendants, and in honor of those who came before us. But I'll be honest, it was slightly disappointing. There were extra chairs. We could move around easily and the worry I had about losing someone small in a crushing crowd was replaced by how do we get out of this early November heat? We stayed to listen to the speeches, then made our way along Pennsylvania Avenue to the south lawn of the White House, waving naked Trump Baby balloons and green handkerchiefs that said "Bans off our Bodies," and carrying a pair of "feminist as fuck" socks in my back pocket. The small crowd dissipated, and we grabbed dinner at the Hard Rock before heading back to our hotel.
It feels like a million years ago.
And I'll be honest, when I saw the flyers for the April 5th Hands Off marches in D.C., New York, speckling the map in major cities, I wondered if we'd fail ourselves again. We did it in a big way on November 5th, and now I wasn't sure we even deserved to march. Would it be a parade of white female FAFOs hiding red hats behind freshly-Sharpied signs that expressed, at least for the moment, that they'd changed their minds? Or would it be like before, just a handful of rabblerousers desperate to speak for everyone who stayed home, sluggish and disappointed on their couches and catching up on another episode of White Lotus?
No shade to White Lotus, that show is on its game.
I dropped my 14-year-old off at film class near Battery Park and caught the 1 up to Penn Station. It was another 9 blocks to Bryant Park and I was already about 45 minutes later. If you saw someone small in a purple raincoat and green backpack running at full speed up 6th Avenue, that was probably me, anxious, desperate I might miss the first good thing to happen in 77 days.
Thank God I was wrong. I didn't make it all the way to Bryant, but caught the crowd a block over, down 5th. Actually I heard them before I saw them: drums, whistles, horns, cymbals, singing, cheering. And then I saw what can only be described as a "tidal wave" crossing the intersection.
These weren't FAFOs. These were the ones that showed up. Then. Now. Tomorrow. And say what you want about New York and the attitude, but I've lived here a little over a year, and these people will become your best friends with a little quality eye contact. Add in duress and a sprinkling of optimism, and they're family.
We marched down to Madison Square Park, singing, waving signs, chanting, and approached by no one. No one fought, no one obstructed, and we only stopped when the streetlights turned red and a couple coordinators in orange vests rolled out the caution tape and held us there until they turned green again. Then on we marched, waving and singing. I could see in front of me for about 8 blocks, and it was nothing but people; behind me maybe 4, but I knew they stretched farther than that.
There was no anger. There weren't even police for most of it. And the ones I saw stood silently by, saying nothing, maybe even the tiniest smile before they caught themselves. Two counter-protesters vied for a little attention at the end, but 100,000 people ignored them and marched to victory with their new found family.
When I rode the 1 back down the island I had no idea what I'd been a part of, here or everywhere. I can only compare it to living near a forest fire, which I've also done, and how hard it is to see how big and powerful something is when you're in the middle of it. It takes perspective and standing back, listening, reading, watching a few TikToks, and suddenly you realize what you've done.
April 5th is a day when America showed the world (and more importantly ourselves) that we are not Donald Trump. We are not tariffs and dissolved peace treaties. We are not wild conspirators and billionaires. And we're a lot closer to 1789 than we are to 2025.
In the hours since I've noticed a few things. One, the American news media failed a great opportunity. The weekend news is generally fluff pieces, rewinds of the week's news and lesser-paid anchors holding down the desk while their superiors take a couple days off with the kids. They had an opportunity to put April 5th at the top of every hour. But they didn't, and maybe on purpose, though newspapers seem to have done better than TV news. But the rest of the world did, the U.K., Germany, the Netherlands, and Canada to name a few.
I also noticed the trolls were extra-trolly. All of us were encouraged to post pictures, videos, and stories to our social media platforms to get the word out about Hands Off, April 5th, anything we could. And I've never been trolled so hard or so laughably. As you all have realized by now, we're multi-millionaires thanks to George Soros' paid protestor policies (the check is in the mail), and while we showed up at an estimated 5.3 million strong, the "libtards need to sit down."
Don't see that happening, but thanks.
So here's the deal, MAGA: what you're feeling right now is fear. We’ve been gathering reinforcements. Making plans. Getting into a little good trouble. And now we're on your doorstep.
Thanks to everyone who marched and supported on April 5th, you did your country proud. Don't give up this fight or let the momentum cool.
Next up:
Women's March Mass Organizing Call - April 9th - 9pm ET
Ellie is an author, editor, and owner of Red Pencil Transcripts, and works with filmmakers, podcasts, and journalists all over the world. She lives with her family just outside of New York City, and is represented by Vicki Marsdon at High Spot Literary.
You’re definitely one of us, Sla’inte!!