Praying with my feet

The caption on that image is a reference to the world's fair and to the appearance of the Wrigley Building, but every once in a while it's a bit uncomfortable. This is one of those times.

I spent part of Friday looking up responsa about protesting on Shabbat, and as with most issues of halacha, I found out the answer is, "It's complicated." The Families Belong Together March took place in Chicago, so there's no question of leaving city limits, but there's the issue of carrying on Shabbat and of engaging in conversation similar to that carried out during the rest of the week. There's also the perennial problem of marit ayin, the warning about carrying out actions which look like they might be forbidden even if they are technically permitted. I don't follow all the halacha strictly, but I suppose it's that I like to know what laws I'm breaking, so I came to the accommodation of not making a protest sign, not following along with the chants, but lending my presence and participation in the march as a mark of my support.

The subject is the most common (mis)-quote of Rabbi Abraham Joshua Herschel, who, when asked on what basis he marched with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., replied with, "I felt my feet were praying."

I arrived slightly late and missed the speakers, but I was there when the march set out and I joined on for the full length. We walked south on Clark for a while into the South Loop, past the Federal Building on S. Clark, then turned east for a block before turning north and coming back up Dearborn. I did not take many pictures--taking pictures of a protest seems inconsiderate to me barring explicit consent from the people being photographed--but there were these signs hanging from the L as we crossed Van Buren:

In lieu of taking pictures, I wrote down the signs that I particularly liked, which I'll now put behind this cut:

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I was really nervous about going, just this kind of inchoate worry gripping my stomach without any consistent basis. Part of the reason I missed the speakers is because I was wrestling my worries into shape until I made a snap decision, threw on clothes, and walked out the door, relying on momentum to carry me forward. And as is the way of it, I'm glad I went. It's good to remember that at least 60,000 other people just in Chicago care enough to come on a day where the temperatures hit at least 35°C.

I don't know how much good it will do. I remember the protests on the lead up to the Iraq War, and they had absolutely no impact at all at the time and then the 2004 election proved to the American fascists* that no one really cared that much. As the sign I saw says, don't just march, vote. Even if the votes are rigged such that we have to win by 10% to win, as may well be the case, it's still a vital part of civic change. But I can't help but remember that most modern dictatorships still have elections because the notion of the popular will is heavily ingrained into the definition of political legitimacy. With Kennedy retiring, things get a lot darker even if we do win big in November.

So yes, there is no guarantee that things will not get worse. But damned if I'm not going to be one of the people trying to make them better. Something I keep telling myself, over and over again, the words of R. Tarfon:

It is not your responsibility to finish the work, but neither are you free to desist from it.
Pirkei Avot 2:16