Why I March—National March for Life in Washington, DC

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This past Friday was the 52nd annual March for Life in Washington, DC. My mom and I have attended the March on and off since 2006, sometimes with family and friends, and sometimes just by ourselves. Sometimes we would join a bus group and do a day trip there and back, while other years we would make it a mini trip to catch up with friends in the area. Rain, snow, sunshine, torturous winds, we've marched in them all.

When I was younger it seemed like a great opportunity to miss a day or two of school...until I realized the March was always during one of the coldest times of the year! Lack of foresight on my end, but still I went. We would also participate in pre-March rallies, depending on when we arrived to the city. I have listened to the stories of Abortion survivors and victims on all sides, Religious men and women who have dedicated their ministry to protecting the sanctity of life, and even some political figures who fight the battle daily among wolves.

This year for the first time my mom and I decided to "watch" the March, basically meaning we didn't try to fight the crowd to get into the main rally or push to get to the center of the excitement. We stood under the Washington Monument and listened as best we could to the speakers down in front of the Reflecting Pool—Always a shout out to Forrest Gump when I'm there, but I digress—when a young woman took out her headphones and asked me a simple question, "What's going on down there?"

I had the perfect opportunity to evangelize to a stranger who wanted to know why tens of thousands of people were gathering on Constitution Avenue on a Friday afternoon. And she was genuinely curious, listening to what I had to say! She wasn't screaming at me or telling me I'm a terrible person for wanting to take away "women's reproductive rights", she was a young woman interested in listening. And I blew it. I fumbled over my words and what came out didn't necessarily spark a dramatic conversion of her heart. I did tell her it was the March for Life, and we were advocating for the protection of the unborn, families, and the elderly. But I couldn't say anything else. My words fell short of the 50–year old largest social justice march in America that is already underplayed in the media, the march inspires countless individuals to do more for the protection and sanctity of all life. And I just flubbed their cause even more!

She thanked me for sharing and walked away. Then I began to reflect, why do I march? Why am I here? Do I take what I'm doing seriously? Obviously I believe it is a great cause that should be advocated for, after all who doesn't at the root of any matter support the idea that a life is worth living, let alone fighting for? The MC of the rally always encourages everyone in attendance to flood social media with the hashtag #whywemarch and so this is where I pondered the hashtag, at the ground level of the Washington Monument overlooking the Pro-life rally of 2025.

I might not have the right words to say when talking to people about what I believe, and the Holy Spirit may even send me numerous opportunities that I will inevitably mess up, but I can still show up. I was there in DC, walking alongside the flood of men, women, and children who want to break free from a culture of death. I march for those who are voiceless, and for those who cannot be there in person to advocate for the right to life. I march because when I don't have the elegance of the talented speakers I know, or I don't know how to respond to a stranger asking why so many people are gathered together, I can at the very least pray on the streets where laws are created to protect those who are vulnerable. I will continue to silently—for now—march for life because my presence alone is a witness.

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