Last night I joined thousands of protesters at the Texas State Capitol gathered to voice our opposition to SB 5, a bill aiming to ban abortions after 20 weeks and placing new, severe restrictions on clinics and providers. I had been listening to the filibuster all day and wanted so badly to be there to show my support. After work, I headed over to the Capitol, not knowing what to expect.
I was surrounded by a sea of orange. Pizza was being
delivered, volunteers were passing out peanut butter sandwiches, apples, and bottled
water, and the atmosphere, though serious and determined, was overall friendly
and united. We were there, and we weren't leaving. It was time to take back our
house.
The line to be admitted into the Senate Gallery wound down 3
levels of the building. We had to decide whether to join the groups in the
auditorium watching the debate, or wait in line, not always knowing what was
going on in the gallery.
I started in the auditorium. Hundreds of seats were filled
with people watching intently, booing attempts to silence Senator Davis, and
erupting in cheers when she shut her silencers down. I only wish she could have
seen how hard we were rooting for her. After a couple of hours in the
auditorium, I headed up to the 3rd floor rotunda, just outside the
Senate Gallery, to meet friends in line waiting to be admitted. The line
lurched slowly, and most of us were getting our information from Twitter,
Facebook, and friends watching the streaming. A rumor started going around that
the Capitol shut its Wi-Fi off, though I can’t say for certain if that’s what
happened. I do know that I and many others had Wi-Fi at one point and lost it
later. It’s possible it got overloaded.
Things started riling up around 11PM, and the building began
to fill with more people. Another rumor started, this time stating that the
Capitol was on lockdown. I talked to a State Trooper about that, and he gave a
wishy-washy response.
Around that time a podium was wheeled in, and Cecile
Richards stood in the middle of the first floor, working with her team, meeting
protestors, and encouraging us to keep standing with Senator Davis. We still
had little information about what was going on inside, but we passed along all
the information we had to each other as our phones started dying.
We erupted when the filibuster got killed. The senate
gallery was rushed, and those of us who couldn't get inside started chanting.
First, “Wendy.” Next, “We won’t go back.” Later, we sang The Eyes of Texas,
letting legislators know we were watching them and we wouldn't forget what they
were trying to do. More State Troopers entered the rotunda, and the doors were
locked to keep us out.
We became unified as we started to understand that, if we
made enough noise at the right times, we could stall the vote. Organizers
helped us stay quiet when our legislators were speaking, and encouraged us to
cheer and chant when we needed to. We were making our voices heard.
Standing on the first floor, Cecile Richards looked up on
the rotunda, screaming with us, waving her hands to get us to cheer louder, and
we stomped our feet and banged on whatever we could. The feeling was electric
as we counted down to midnight. Cecile held up 3 fingers for 3 minutes, 2
fingers for 2, and 1 for the last minute.
Midnight came and we were still cheering as loud as ever.
But then news started to spread that they voted, and it passed. We were
confused, upset, and trying to find out any information we could. After 20
minutes, the shouts and chants subdued as we tried to understand what was
happening.
I couldn't help but feel defeated. After hours of state
legislators combing through rules to silence Senator Davis, it felt like we had
been silenced too. Our voices were shut out. I went home feeling like I hadn't
done enough.
As I walked through the Capitol grounds to get back to my
car, I thought about when I used to work
at the Capitol as a senior in college in 2008. My boss at the time, the
Legislative Director for a Texas State Representative, told me on my first day:
this is your building. You decide what happens in here. Don’t ever forget that.
I knew then that we weren't defeated, we were silenced.
Every dirty trick in the book was used to keep us out of OUR house. I knew then
that we were going to keep fighting, and if another session got called, we
would be back, and we would be louder than ever.
I woke up this morning to amazing news. I am still saddened
by the extent the GOP went to keep us from exercising our rights and
traditions. I am upset that the media
has aired Lt. Gov. Dewhurst referring to us as an unruly mob. I am aware that
this is probably just the beginning of a long fight to make our legislators
hear our voices. I am proud that my Senator, Senator Kirk Watson, stood by
Senator Davis and supported her in every way that he could. And I am ready to
return to the Capitol and keep standing with Senator Wendy Davis and every
other woman whose rights are being controlled, manipulated and denied by a
legislature that no longer reflects the wants and needs of its people.
It’s time to take back our house.
