I'm a Part of the Body. When One Part Suffers, We All Suffer.
I'm a follower of Jesus, and as his followers, we're called to show up in places where the vulnerable in society are found, to stand with them, and make their plight our own plight. At this moment in time, many marginalized groups (racial minorities, immigrants, refugees, women, the poor who are losing their healthcare, etc) feel vulnerable and threatened, and are marching as a way to give expression to that. I want to join with them in reminding the new administration to keep human rights and policy that will promote human flourishing for everyone front and center.
I'm white, I have a good education, I have a good job — my personal life will probably not change too much under a Trump administration, but I'm marching for my friends and brothers and sisters in Christ who are fearful, afraid, hurt, and angry at the words used in this election season, as well as the strategies and nominees put forth to run this administration. My life might not change, but their lives and families are threatened. Seeing the outcome of this election, and that 80% of white evangelicals voted for Trump (while at the same time reading the biography of John Lewis) made me realize I can't sit by just because my own life will not be greatly affected. I'm a part of the body. When one part suffers, we all suffer.
Sure, I don't agree with every single aspect of every single issue on this march's platform. I consider myself whole life prolife, and I'm not keen on abortion being presented as just another birth control option. I believe any time Christians engage with social protest or reform in the public square, we will end up with people next to us that we don't 100% agree with, but can still work together on common-ground issues with them. If we wait to find an event or movement that completely supports every single thing we stand for, we will never get involved. So I think it's worth it to fly up to D.C. to stand with those resisting oppression in all its forms.