We Refuse To Be Enemies.

We nursed, we played, we danced, we communed.
We marched, we waved, we clapped, we snuggled.

It was good to see some of my mama friends from various groups, some old activist / organizer pals, and part of my stitch 'n bitch crew, too. We made friends with another mother and her two little ones; of course, it being Nashville, she knows friend Em. We two and our babes did the march together from the roundabout to the Federal Building on Broadway and back.

The most radical and yet normal event of the day for Ms. Booty Homemaker? Once we'd marched to the Federal Building, Ziggy was hungry and a little fussy. With nary a thought in mind but attending to my wee one's needs, I stepped away from all the protesters, media and traffic. As it was soft and welcoming, I settled in on the lawn and began to nurse Ziggy from a seated position. Though by all rights, as both an organizer with peace keeper training and the daughter of a former federal employee, I should have been more thoughtful, I gave no pause until I saw the guard approaching. I was nursing on federal property as a protester, and hadn't even realized it.

An older genteman, the guard simply said, "M'am, when you've finished up there, you'll need to step back onto the sidewalk." He was so kind! When Baby Booty was sated and sleeping at the breast, I tucked him back into the sling, gathered our few things and stepped onto the sidewalk. The guard reappeared to thank me! A couple people came up to ask if we were okay, assuming I'd been hassled. I was pleased to say that our peacefully doing what came naturally was radically subversive, erased differences, and simply let all of us be human. The milk of human kindness, indeed.

Before we marched back, I shook the guard's hand, telling him how much I appreciated his gentle approach to doing his job, as he allowed me to do mine. It was my distinct pleasure to carry 4 year old Cora's sign as we mamas and babes marched back to our cars on Music Row. It read: WE REFUSE TO BE ENEMIES.