Monday I inadvertently attended the immigration march through downtown Chicago. Other than drunkenly tearing down a nay-saying redneck on a recent trip to Louisiana, I hadn’t had any strong feelings on the issue. Here’s how it happened: Having a friend that works at the Shedd Aquarium in Grant Park, Shenoah, one of the Pajama Men, got free tickets for himself, Mark (the other Pajama Man), our Canadian friend, Allison, and I. So around noon we all got on the train and headed off to see the fish, knowing there would be the march to contend with.We emerged from the underground red line stop at Jackson, and the protest was right there. It was truly a sight to behold with flags, signs, drums, air horns, chanting and a continuous stream of people—mostly Hispanics, but there were a good amount of other ethnicities as well as religions represented there too. We gawked for about 15 minutes before deciding to march our way to the aquarium. They were headed in the direction we were, and it just felt right.I think during the march we all got a little teary. As we walked through the skyscrapers, we could see people several floors up cheering. Risking corniness, the spectacle of thousands of people coming together peacefully to stand up to the government was truly amazing, to say the least.
Immigrationation
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