04/01/18 5:58am

About two hours into the March for Our Lives, I experienced multiple epiphanies. In no order of importance these were as follows: that there is a difference between a march and a rally, and what I was part of was actually a rally. I thought I was attending a march and had prepared to walk for miles, if necessary. I didn’t know that I was going to stand, with as little personal space as revelers in Times Square on New Year’s Eve, without the accompanying stimulants, for more than three and a half hours, listening to the heartfelt expressions of sorrow and hope, the voices of young people, amplified from a far-away stage. READ