A journal from our March to Sacto

Day Zero: Rally In San Francisco

After months of late night planning, long email chains, and public outreach, the March to Sacramento officially started at noon on March 24th with a rally on the steps of San Francisco's City Hall.

A hundred or so supporters gathered at the steps to listen to our friends and allies that had come to speak for the occasion. Andrea Shorter of And Marriage for All gave a characteristically rousing and grounded speech. She was followed by Kate Kendell of the National Center for Lesbian Rights and by Biko Baker, a hip-hop activist from the League of Young Voters, both of whom gave the march their support and solidarity. Towards the end of the rally, Cleve Jones took to the stage and channeled the same energy and fire that he's brought to the LGBT rights struggle for so many years.

Unsatisfied with just speaking, Cleve demanded that we start the march right there, and we did, turning from the City Hall taking over the streets for a few minutes to march to the Supreme Court. With the help of the Brass Liberation Orchestra and the Raging Grannies, we shouted, sang, danced, and chanted for our rights at the judicial arbiters of California.

And with that, we had started our march, with blessings and goodwill to take our message from San Francisco into the communities of the Berkeley Hills and Sacramento river delta all the way to the Capitol steps.

Day One: Berkeley to Walnut Creek

On the morning of March 25th, a group of bright-eyed and bushy-tailed activists converged in downtown Berkeley near the World Wall for Peace at the Martin Luther King, Jr. Park. As the group of backpacks and hiking shoes grew, there was a palpable excitement about the endeavor we were all about to embark upon.

Supporters and media outlets gathered as we marchers looked at maps, checked in with each other to verify our sanity (verdict: we're crazy, but, crazy in a good way), and before long we found ourselves in front of Berkeley's City Hall, whose city council unanimously endorsed the march and has a long, storied history of supporting human rights. After the speeches from marchers, allies, and even a city councilman (all rousing, uplifting, and inspiring), we started marching through the city of Berkeley, into and through the hills, on our way to Sacramento.

Our destination the first night was the welcoming congregation of the Mt. Diablo Unitarian Universalist Church. The route through Tilden and Briones Regional Park promised to be a beautiful and pleasant one. And, for the most part, it was - but the first day wasn't without its quirks. There may have been some utterly fictional routes on the maps we had acquired and quite possibly there was some turning around and back tracking, but spirits were high and the stalwart marchers were undaunted.

Come that evening, the congregation welcomed us with open arms despite our sweaty, fragrant state. At the dinner that followed, we shared our stories with the congregation and they with us. A highlight of the evening was meeting Kevin Hsieh, a straight, conservative gentleman who spoke of his parents' struggle as a biracial couple. The parallels, to him, were striking, so much so that he felt compelled to march with us for as many days as he could.

We slept sprawled through the church's complex that night, full of good food and good spirits, ready to march again the next day.

Day Two: Walnut Creek to Antioch

From Walnut Creek we crossed the Lime Ridge Open Space on our way to Antioch on a hot, sweltering day. Sunburns and frequent water breaks started popping up, and so did some welcome and unexpected support.

A minivan stopped by our rainbow-clad crew, and a woman, Melissa, stepped out saying she had seen us on the news the night before. She had stocked her minivan full of water and set out to find us! In a word, having an ally show up to deliver us water because she had seen us on the news the evening before was awesome. We also meet two locals, Alfie and Ray, who were familiar with the area and marched with us for a couple of hours, showing us a hidden route or two.

After a short break in the town of Clayton to have lunch and gather our strength, we started to trek across the Black Diamond Mines Regional Preserve. For those of you who haven't hiked from Clayton to Antioch, you should know the stretch of hills between them is somewhat long and quite inaccessible by vehicles with water or cellphone service to call for help when a rattlesnake shows up unexpectedly and uncomfortably close.

On the northern side of the preserve we met a faith leader, Pastor Will, who led us through Antioch to an open and affirming United Church of Christ (sister church to his own which was not on our route). After a meal deliciously prepared by the congregation, we sat down to hear the story of this UCC congregation and the struggles they faced in the process of becoming one of Antioch's only open and affirming church. The video of that story, a touching and heartbreaking account of one community's struggle, is here.

Day Three: Antioch to Brannan Island

"Good morning equality lovers!" is how Kip Williams woke us all in the early morning, rousing us from our well-earned sleep.

A short while later we found ourselves loading into shuttles to cross the John A. Nejedly bridge, a narrow bridge headed north into the Sacramento River delta that was not, to say the least, amenable to having us cross on foot.

The southern end of the delta is mostly farmland and levees, unbroken for us most of the day except for a short excursion into Isleton near the end of the day where we did some community work and were given an historical tour of the town. We spent that night camping south of Isleton on Brannan Island.

The time setting up camp, cooking for ourselves, and gathering around a campfire brought out a mixture of joy and giddiness that resulted in an impromptu prom for Richard Aviles, who flew from LA to join us even though it meant missing his high school prom. There was singing and dancing and communion with our selves. While in some ways it was disappointing to not spend the evening with another community and learning about their struggles, in other ways the night spent building and learning about our own community was just as important.

Day Four: Brannan Island to Locke

Some stalwart souls awoke early the next morning to start a fire and have some warm food prepared for everyone as we woke up and disassembled tents and repacked sleeping bags. Chilly as it was waking up in a pre-dawn fog, warming up by the fire with friends and companions more than made up for it.

Once camp was packed up, we started marching again from Isleton where we had spent the previous day weeding and planting flowers with some of the residents. It was one of the shortest days of the march, as Isleton and Locke are only ten miles apart, but oh what awaited us in Locke!

Locke, CA is a small village of 80 or so residents. It was the first place in the state where Chinese immigrants could own property, a civil rights struggle that took decades. Connie King, Locke's oldest resident, can still remember fighting with the white landowners for the right to own the building she and her husband had been living in for years and years. She is, without a doubt, a great treasure in Locke, and her stories are worth a trip out to the delta all by themselves - watch the video to see the most charming story you've ever heard about a woman filling her garden with discarded toilets.

We spent that night in Locke in what had once been a church but was now mostly abandoned and partially owned by a local man named Russell. Despite the space's long under-use, it was made sacred by the presence of an ancient wooden sculpture of the Guanyin, the bodhisattva of compassion, an important Buddhist figure. It added another unique detail to this constantly surprising yet unassuming place. If ever you find yourself driving along or even near this area of California, I whole-heartedly recommend some time in Locke.

Day Five: Locke to Clarksburg

Before continuing on our way, we wanted to make an official gift to Locke for their hospitality. The center of town has a memorial lined with commemorative bricks and a monument to the history and struggle of Locke's residents. One Struggle, One Fight officially donated a brick to the wall in the presence of Connie King and many of the members of the Locke Foundation, a group dedicated to the cultural and historical preservation of the community.

Some few miles north of there, along a mostly empty road that winds through the delta, we met Randy, a gay man who lived nearby and invited us into his home. Seeing a home so carefully and lovingly built out on the delta was inspiring, in a way, for showing that despite the amount of work that remains to be done - ending the bullying and beating, having a public voice, the right to wed - that LGBT people are everywhere and that there are homes and havens in the most unlikely of places.

As the day progressed, the wind picked up. And not just any wind, but a constantly blowing wind that wore down the spirit and made talking difficult. It was a day to put your head down and walk. And walk. And gasp as the wind stole your words away.

By noon morale was down and setting up any kind of outside cooked lunch was an impossibility. Nothing but light snacks to get us through as we kept trying to make headway in a relentless windstorm. After far too many hours of this we cried mercy and called the drivers and support vehicles available, the ones carrying our backpacks and spare water, to help us.

We found out later, after asking people more familiar with the area, if it was always windy like that. They were as surprised as we were. If you want to get a feel for that day, stick your head out the window as you drive. When you get uncomfortable, keep your head out. Then skip lunch. Then keep your head out for a few hours more.

When we reached Elk Grove, a southern suburb of Sacramento, it was time to eat and appreciate the simple luxuries of being indoors.

Day Six: Clarksburg to Sacramento

Last day of the march! Excitement and disbelief were the most prevalent feelings. Once arriving in Sacramento, there was to be a rally on the steps of the Capitol, and we all wanted to be there in top form. We woke early and started marching at a steady pace.

We took a small break in a park on the southern edge of the city to share some of our most treasured moments and takeaways from the march. An hour's march north of there, we convened a few blocks away from the Capitol to eat a lunch provided by our friends from Food Not Bombs. It was there that Kathy Griffin came to meet us with 5 young folks from LA (and the film crew working to produce an episode of her show).

After some hurried logistics and organizing - arranging speakers, making sure there was a sound system, getting ready for the final part of the march - we took off from the square and chanted up to the steps of the Capitol of California.

Kevin Hsieh, the gentleman we met in Walnut Creek, spoke, as did some of our marchers, Maya and Joya, Richard Aviles, several inspiring supporters, Andrea Shorter, a many voiced call to civil disobedience in the case that Proposition 8 is upheld, and last but not least, Kathy Griffin.

And then, suddenly, the rally ended, the crowd dispersed, the cameras left, and the march was over. Or was it? Most of us chanted and marched through town for a final meal (and collective tattooing!) together. At that meal, and in the days and weeks that have passed since, we realized that in many ways, the march is not over and never will be. We created an experience, a community, a history, among ourselves and those we met along the way, and though we may no longer be physically on the trail from San Francisco to Sacramento, the stories and relationships we've created have feet of their own, and they'll keep on marching as we fight for our civil rights and for the civil rights of all.