Marcher in the Home

While on the road, anything goes in terms of where we sleep. The first night we slept in a middle school gym, the second night outside a church and the third night we slept at the Santa Fe Recreational Area. On the fourth night though we had a special arrangement for homestay hosts. Since we had a deadline to meet we hastened our pace to ensure we'd make it to the pick-up location.

I was lucky to have a host who was participating in the Mardi Gras pancake dinner at a middle school. I saw marchers dispersed around a room so I picked a table that did not yet have one. As soon as I sat down they excitedly asked me questions and I answered them up until my pancakes were served. As I started eating them I realized how famished I was. I felt a little rude since the people I had been seated with wanted to hear about my journey while I was preoccupied with replacing calories. So after my initial hunger surge had been satisfied I slowed my eating pace to give them my full attention.

After the dinner had concluded I caught a ride to another church where the marchers were to speak. It was here that I gave my first speech about Chris. I was a little shaky walking up to the microphone without a script prepared but as I started talking the words flowed out effortlessly. I began by describing how I first came to be involved in activism at Cornell by attending the National Power Shift Convergence in DC. Chris had been my carpool driver and it was on the long car ride down that we instantly became friends. I told them about his volunteer work in Haiti and admitted that I regretted not going with him to Haiti while he was alive. It was then that I told them that Chris had drowned five days before we were set to graduate and I could hear gasps percolating around the room. I continued on telling them about how talented Chris was as a videographer and how he tirelessly used his skills to inspire people to take action against fracking and poverty. I ended by telling them that I was marching in his honor and filming a documentary in his memory. As soon as I concluded there was roaring applause. It was at that moment that I felt Chris's presence; I sensed his beaming smile on me from the audience and I could not help but smile back. I looked down at my bamboo pin and thanked him for guiding me.