PDA Conference and Celebration

Saturday and Sunday we attend the Progressive Democrats of America conference in DC. CodePINK hosts a breakfast and we decorate the entire lobby area with hanging pink slip banners. So, one might say that we have a presence there. Medea gives an outstanding speech.

Ariel and I find out the miraculous news that we have been given a grant by an anonymous donor to become national youth organizers for CodePINK. We are ecstatic with excitement, tearful with joy, and we cling to each other, jump in the air, scream, and rejoice in the foyer behind the conference hall. And then we see Arthur Waskow round the corner and approach us. And at that moment, the whole world is pure, serendipitous perfection. That night we all go out to a bar and order exotic beers (like our favorite, Pinkas Ale, a great find thanks to Z), celebrating our DC actions, our grant money, and retelling tales from the battlefield: past protests, the hunger strike in the early days of CodePINK, road adventures with Sam. Frances describes in detail her journey to Iraq on a delegation trip to me and I become completely absorbed in her words, which take me far away from the bustling scene of CodePINK women, surrounded by young, fraternity-aged buzzed kids and dart boards. I am in the car with her, bearing witness to the road blockades, the highway thieves, the aridity invades my nostrils, the fear becoming bone marrow, the sounds louder than the pop music blasting from above. And then we are all leaving and I am ripped out of the story and deposited on the snowy sidewalk outside, near DuPont Circle, where we depart for the night.