"With people getting to the point where they don't just disagree with each other's political candidates, they actually hate each other, do you think there's a way to bridge the gap?" The reporter asks Katie as we sit in the Metro station, waiting to take the train to the protest march. The high-vaulted concrete ceilings echo with the cheers and chatter of our fellow dissidents.
I want to jump in and explain how I don't feel the need to bridge the gap with people who don't consider my safety or health, or the safety and health of my friends and loved ones, to be a priority, but then I stop myself. This is a women's march, after all, so instead I just shut up and listen, because it's not all about me.