Climate Protest NYC 2023

With 75,000 of my ‘friends’, I marched in New York City on Sunday, culminating at the United Nations building. Our major message to Biden: End the use of fossil fuels. Here’s a recap of my day’s experience.

It began for my husband at 4 am, when his alarm sounded. He had agreed to drive me to meet four friends in Marblehead at 5:15, so I could ride with them to South Station for the 6:30 am train to Penn Station. Blessings to Paul for this generous act. He never protests with me, yet supports my actions in various and important ways.

When we reached the meeting point, there was no one there. We drove around the block, not recognizing anyone. Finally, after recognizing that he was going to have to drive me to South Station himself, I heard someone yelling. It was my friends, across the street, hidden by a wall. I had misread the meeting directions! Nevertheless, I quickly left my car for theirs and we drove off for our ride to rooftop parking at South Station.

There were five of us: Jim, Rebecca, Kate, Judith, and me. Coach seating on our Amtrak train was quite comfortable, more so than on most flights. I sat with Rebecca, who plans to walk the Camino in a year. After sharing with her my memories of my own Camino six years ago, I began to feel as if I want to walk it again, a brand new feeling for me.

We had no idea how many people would show up for this climate march, though we knew there were seven buses from Massachusetts alone, plus more. Our expectation was for thousands, but we really had no idea.

After our uneventful arrival and our purchase of coffee and cappuccino, Judith left us to meet with a Jewish group for prayers, knowing our proposed starting point. When we arrived at that location (Broadway and 50th?) at about noon, we were three blocks from the end of the protesters. Those three blocks were filled with people, all ages and races, with many signs, banners, and costumes. And, in front of us, the same — so many people that we could not even glimpse the beginning of it. I never saw the beginning of the march. None of the pictures reported in the next day’s newspapers (New York Times and Boston Globe) were familiar to me.

The march was to be 1.3 miles; however, we had walked from the metro to our starting point and had to walk back to the metro again. Because there were so many of us, we seldom took more than a few steps at a time, before stopping again. There was irregular chanting, in which we vigorously participated. The four of us (Judith had not rejoined us. We knew she was somewhere in the crowd.) kept careful tabs on each other, stayed connected.

During our frequent pauses, we engaged in brief conversations with others. Every single one, without exception, was uplifting, positive, and sincere. For example, two people who were walking together were freshmen at New York University, a young man from China and a young woman from Virginia. They each expressed their admiration that something like this could happen peacefully and that they could be a part.

Occasionally I would see a mom and her child, five or six years old. I’m sorry that I never asked to take a picture. However, each time I saw such a pair, I moved to the side and commended the mom for including her child in this experience. The responsive smiles meant a lot to me.

After marching for three and a half hours, slowly, very slowly, I told my friends that my energy was depleted and that I was heading back to the train. I did that, using my gps to identify the nearest metro station, a few blocks away. I was scheduled for the 5 pm train, my friends not until 7.

At Penn Station, I began a conversation with a young woman, Mita, who had come to the march from New Jersey. Her reaction to me: “You came all the way from Massachusetts!” I felt proud that I had been a part of this demonstration of the need for climate attention. I also felt grateful that I was physically able to participate. We had a sweet connection. She even asked if she could give me a hug! I was happy to consent.

On the train, I was once again with others who were not part of the march. I left Amtrak at Back Bay, to get the T to North Station, then the 11 pm train to Beverly, where my kind husband met me, exhausted and completely satisfied.