Why I banner!
For the people who, sighting hot pink, begin honking before we even get our banners unfurled.
For the passengers who are pulling out their cell phones, rapidly punching in numbers as they take a swing at the driver to slow down
For the drivers who hold their cell phones out the window, nodding, smiling, a promise floating up to us
For the hundreds and more of cars who slow down, honking, smiling, waving, throwing their fists in the air, yelling “RIGHT ON”, giving the peace symbol.
For the truckers who blow their special horns, amplifying the support 10 fold
For the thin white man who lays down his bike and picks up a side of the banner to hold while flashing the peace symbol with his other hand.
For the six or so white males, mostly driving pick-up trucks, who give us the finger as we remind them their view is not necessarily the dominant one
For the man in the white long-sleeved shirt and black dress pants who walks up on the bridge to let us know he was the one who was honking. He points to our banners and says “This is about my country”. He is from Afghanistan. “My country, my people are being attacked.” he moans, “Why?” He continues: “It is the womens who suffer the most, who are being hurt, killed, tortured, it is the womens.”
And for the people who, sighting the hot pink banners we are rolling up and putting away, honk for hot pink
For I think if just one of these people call their senator, Boxer, Feinstein or Pelosi, it’ll be one more call made that we didn’t have before I banner!