The crowd was slow to form tonight. At 7pm, there were only about a dozen people at Happy Hour. I wondered if the impending ceremony tomorrow had sadden regulars enough to not show up. It is precisely because of tomorrow that I arrived at Happy Hour at my usual time.

I spent the first hour and a half on a craft project. A friend brought poster board and markers to create signs for the march on Saturday. Thankfully they had a second piece. I thought up two sayings (for front and back) and set out to make my rally cries.

As people filtered in, the group swelled to close to its normal size. I saw friends, chatted, ate junk food, and finished my sign.
Front:
PRO…
– BLACK
– QUEER
– CHOICE

Back:
PROTECT…
– IMMIGRANTS
– TRANS FOLKS
– MUSLIMS
– SEX WORKERS

With many of us now under the same roof, I was soothed by our collective strength. I was surrounded by my people. They were my people before November 8^th, and they will be my people for many moons to come. Whatever happens in the next four years, we will have each other.

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