Swarms of anonymous people, congesting the sidewalks, frothing over curbs onto battered asphalt canals, interweaving through stalled traffic.

A highway full of angry people, anonymous behind their banners, united behind their message. Seen. Heard. They are the movement you see cascading across our country. Anonymous but you know them.

They’re your sisters, mothers, daughters. They’re your nieces, aunts, and cousins.

They are half our population, but they’re not as free as the rest of us.