alexa montesa
What is the most predominant color?
pink and white
An expectation or concern you had.
Thoughts of being arrested, getting tear-gassed, acts of terrorism racked my mind.
A food or drink moment.
Stir-fry from Honeygrow was egg white noodles, edamame, carrots, broccoli, shrimp
A textile specific to the place.
coats: a long fluffy, white coat with flowers shaped in the female sign, a pastel pink one with long hair
Why did you go there? First time?
first time for the women’s march on January 21st, 2017
Where did you fall asleep?
reclining in the bus chair, I fell asleep and woke up four or five individual times
A receipt. A ticket stub. A brochure. Something tangible. Something printed.
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A song you heard.
This Women’s Work by Maxwell
A mode of transportation.
bus, my feet, my legs, my entire body
Who did you talk to?
Cece, Kortnee, Tansy, Suzanne, Cecelia, I should have talked to more.
What did you learn?
This can’t be the last time these women protest.
People need to wake up, more awareness, intersectionality.
I need to find ways to channel my anger into something good.
First scent you noticed.
Sage burning
How much is a cigarette? A drink? A bus ticket?
$70 roundtrip coach bus ticket NYC/DC
How high were you? How low?
I climbed on top of a parked truck bed along with a dozen others and looked out
over the crowd that stretched along Pennsylvania Avenue from the Capitol to as far
as the eye could see.
People watch. Share the story of a stranger.
We arrived at Union Station and immediately searched for a restroom.
The line strung along the wall and around the corner.
Everyone debated on finding another, shorter line to stand in.
A woman wearing a fluorescent yellow vest announced over her
megaphone that all restrooms in Union Station were open to women
and this line each of us was standing in contained the highest number of stalls.
The group in front of us shared we ended up waiting only 13 minutes.
When I left the restroom, I bee-lined to the woman with the megaphone.
First I asked her if I could take her photo, then I asked her what her name was.
Suzanne.
I told her to keep doing what she was doing and after 5 shots I said thank you.
Suzanne offered me, with a huge grin on her face, luck and a good day marching.
I returned the smile with pride.
pink and white
An expectation or concern you had.
Thoughts of being arrested, getting tear-gassed, acts of terrorism racked my mind.
A food or drink moment.
Stir-fry from Honeygrow was egg white noodles, edamame, carrots, broccoli, shrimp
A textile specific to the place.
coats: a long fluffy, white coat with flowers shaped in the female sign, a pastel pink one with long hair
Why did you go there? First time?
first time for the women’s march on January 21st, 2017
Where did you fall asleep?
reclining in the bus chair, I fell asleep and woke up four or five individual times
A receipt. A ticket stub. A brochure. Something tangible. Something printed.
A song you heard.
This Women’s Work by Maxwell
A mode of transportation.
bus, my feet, my legs, my entire body
Who did you talk to?
Cece, Kortnee, Tansy, Suzanne, Cecelia, I should have talked to more.
What did you learn?
This can’t be the last time these women protest.
People need to wake up, more awareness, intersectionality.
I need to find ways to channel my anger into something good.
First scent you noticed.
Sage burning
How much is a cigarette? A drink? A bus ticket?
$70 roundtrip coach bus ticket NYC/DC
How high were you? How low?
I climbed on top of a parked truck bed along with a dozen others and looked out
over the crowd that stretched along Pennsylvania Avenue from the Capitol to as far
as the eye could see.
People watch. Share the story of a stranger.
We arrived at Union Station and immediately searched for a restroom.
The line strung along the wall and around the corner.
Everyone debated on finding another, shorter line to stand in.
A woman wearing a fluorescent yellow vest announced over her
megaphone that all restrooms in Union Station were open to women
and this line each of us was standing in contained the highest number of stalls.
The group in front of us shared we ended up waiting only 13 minutes.
When I left the restroom, I bee-lined to the woman with the megaphone.
First I asked her if I could take her photo, then I asked her what her name was.
Suzanne.
I told her to keep doing what she was doing and after 5 shots I said thank you.
Suzanne offered me, with a huge grin on her face, luck and a good day marching.
I returned the smile with pride.