Why We Marched

"To announce that there must be no criticism of the President, or that we are to stand by the President, right or wrong, is not only unpatriotic and servile, but is morally treasonable to the American public."
― Theodore Roosevelt

Last Saturday, I marched. I wasn't the only one. Women's marches took place all over the globe. Boise's march alone drew over five thousand people, while hundreds of thousands marched on our nation's capital. You may have heard some scuttlebutt (#alternativefacts) about varying audience sizes that weekend.

Yet some people seem confused as to why the march took place. Some women say they feel safe and confident, that their human rights are in tact.

I also saw a meme written in classy, Christian taste that read, "Donald Trump got more fat women walking in one day than Michelle Obama did in eight years."

I know, I know. You voted for Trump because you hate political correctness. That's why it's hilarious now to fat shame people, specifically, women. (It is NOT hilarious, by the way.) Go for it! (No, DON'T.)

I do want to address the confusion, especially from my fellow females. We're going to need each other.

As a woman, I don’t feel secure. We have a new POTUS who mocked people with disabilities and bragged about committing sexual assault, which (whether you want to admit it or not) promotes rape culture. And he still got elected.

Harsh language, but hey, he is the president!

This president also retweeted white supremacists and was endorsed by KKK and Neo-Nazi (ahem . . . alt-right) leaders. Many of my refugee and LGBTQ friends and students are scared for their future.

You may not believe me, but I did listen to my Trump-voting friends as they voiced their fears about their disappearing jobs, their anxieties about illegal immigration, their perceived disenfranchisement, their disgust with what they viewed as a generation of millennials living off the government, the country's erosion of family values (translation: pro-life, Christian values). I didn't criticize, even though I didn't agree. I just listened.

I also listened while I was inadvertently (through social media) and not so inadvertently (directed at me specifically) called names and berated: you leftie liberal, waa-waa-waa, you think you have the right to say whatever you want, stop whining, you lost, get over it, move out of the country if you don't like it.

It was time to stand up for everyone's human rights. That is why I marched.

On my playlist:
The album, Battle Hymns, is a protest record for this political era. According to its website, "The album is available, pay what you want at www.quasiband.com with all proceeds divided equally between Planned Parenthood, The ACLU and 350.org." Boise's own Doug Martsch from Built to Spill has a song on it as well as some of my favorite female rockers, Carrie Brownstein, Corin Tucker, Mary Timony, Kathy Foster, and others.

I also asked my Facebook friends to share their reasons for marching. Here are some of the things they felt comfortable sharing. (May be edited for space.)

My husband, Dan:

I marched in solidarity with my wife. It makes no sense the women don't have equal pay. Women should be able to decide when and how to handle a pregnancy. Planned Parenthood needs support for all the work it does in areas other than the hot button political issue that always seems to come up. I believe our new president does not show respect to women publicly or privately. And our new president needs to know just because he won an election that not all of our nation agrees with his policies. This is why I marched.

My dad:

I did not go, but I supported it!

(The men in my life are awesome!)

John M:

Because we all should be treated equally, fairly and justly. And I don't have the ability to sit back and hope that someone else speaks out. I have to speak out and get involved; in so doing, I hope others will speak out and get involved, too. That's why I marched. Oh, plus I got to play in the band. :)

Jill C:

I went to the one here in Chico. I attended it with my youngest daughter and two student employees. I marched the day after the election with the same folks, and that night was a night of despair and anger (no rioting here though), but yesterday was so different. I went to show solidarity with my fellow concerned Americans. I went to stand up for abortion rights, women's rights, gay rights, trans care and rights, and for women of color. I went to show DT and congress that his rigged election didn't represent the masses and that we shouldn't be ignored. I went to listen to others and come away with less bias and more understanding. I went to feel better about the chances of me keeping my sanity over the next 4 years. I came home with a renewed sense of hope. I also came home with a feeling of belonging to my community.

Jan T:

I did not go with [my daughter to Washington D.C.] because the thought of sitting on a bus for fifteen hours, standing and marching for about seven hours, then another fifteen hours on a bus was too much for my older hip and sciatic nerve. What could I do Saturday that would be equivalent to marching? What I did and have been doing for the last year is growing a community garden and food forest for an area in Bloomington that is described as low income and a food desert. I feel that my actions are just as important and hopefully long lasting.

Sarah A:

I wanted to go so badly (but didn't have transportation into LA) . . . because we are living in very scary times right now that could completely change everything we know as it currently is. I just want to be a part of strong people (male and female) coming together to be a force against those who would see us suffer.

Teresa F:

I marched for the same reasons as Jill C (see her eloquent words above) but also to show my support and love for the refugees in Idaho. I teach refugee children, so I feel that I can speak a bit on their behalf. They, like the rest of us, deserve to live in a place where at the very least, their BASIC human needs can be met, they can be safe, and hopefully live with others with freedom and equality. If you are not sure that you agree, please picture yourself in their situation and try to do everything you can to protect your children. How can anyone take that away from them? We need to be willing to share this wonderful WORLD.

Josh R:

We took the boys and wanted to help them understand that people out there don't have the same rights as others. Not just in our country and not just women. We wanted to show them how they can get and must stay involved so the oppressed can have the same rights as their oppressors. We want them to have a better understanding than we did as to what is really happening. We marched for those that were not allowed to march, those that were unable, and those that were just too scared.

Another article to check out:
http://www.idahostatesman.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article128942124.html

“Believing in equality just means you’re not a dick. For me, that’s enough.” 
― Michael Che on SNL Weekend Update

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.

Snowmageddon: Or Careful What You Wish For

Before winter break, everyone at my school, including us teachers (I'll admit), talked eagerly about having a snow day or two. However, I never want snow days during my December programs.

"What will you do?" more than one colleague asked me the day before my little kids' Christmas program, when the weather forecast was looking iffy.

I have been teaching for sixteen years, and I have never had to reschedule a winter program or concert. Boise rarely calls snow days . . . (foreshadowing)

"I'm not even going there," I told my colleagues.

Then I marched into my principal's office and said,"I'm not even going there, but what would we do about the program if we have a snow day tomorrow?"

We put a plan in place just in case.

The truth was, I didn't want any snow days through the whole month of December. My fifth and sixth graders were finishing auditions for our spring musical, Peter Pan.

"Why didn’t we get a snow day?" the kids asked me the Friday before break. A couple of surrounding districts had called school off due to inclement weather.

"Because Mother Nature knows not to mess with my Peter Pan auditions!" I told them.

The roads weren’t that bad, but I think we all needed a break.

Oh, how naïve we were back then . . .

Enter Snowmageddon 2017.

It was innocuous enough in the beginning. A big winter storm hit a day or two before we were supposed to go back to school. Like I said, Boise never calls off school, and I assumed we would be going back as scheduled.

I couldn’t sleep the night before. I was worried about driving in the snow (it looked pretty bad out there), and I had dreams all night about returning to school in a blizzard.

I woke up a half-hour earlier than usual to brave the roads and almost immediately heard a text message buzz on my phone, followed by two more e-mail and Boise District notifications. We were getting a snow day on what was supposed to be first day back from vacation.

The roads were bad, and the snow was still coming down, but my husband, Dan, decided to go into the office instead of working from home.

That morning, he texted me to say he made it safely and, "It was fun!"

I put my phone down and looked out the window just as the backyard was swarmed by a flock of birds. They were flying from their perches in a nearby tree to our fence and then to the small sliver of concrete behind our house. I could hear them pecking and scratching at the siding and underneath our kitchen. One snow day, and I was in the middle of a Hitchcock film.

Later that afternoon, I spied the kids from next door sledding on our snow piles. Yes, the piles from our shoveled driveway were large enough to sled down. I almost joined them, but the neighborhood kids don't really know me. "Stranger, Danger!" and all that . . .

Instead, I texted Dan, "Well, it's official. I can't see our backyard anymore. Shit just got real."

The initial excitement of the largest snowstorm in the Treasure Valley in over thirty years brought with it quirky neighborhood stories about friends helping others get cars unstuck, people digging folks out of their cul-de-sacs, and neighbors with snowblowers clearing subdivision sidewalks.

The local news featured a man in a T-Rex costume shoveling driveways. Dan helped a neighbor dig out of our subdivision. Her husband returned the favor and shoveled our driveway that afternoon.

"If nothing else, this storm is a good way to meet your neighbors," the husband told Dan, with whom we are now on a first-name basis for the first time after living in our house for thirteen years.

A few days into Snowmageddon 2017, one of my Facebook friends commented, "Somebody's prayers are being answered. Wait till I get a hold of them!"

By the third snow day, Boise's mayor declared a state of emergency. This was more about freeing up funds and resources to hire contractors to clear the roads than about a looming apocalypse. But that didn't stop Idaho's survivalist instincts from kicking in.

People flocked to the grocery and Costco to stockpile water bottles, canned food, flashlights, batteries, and milk. (Does anyone else think milk is a weird, perishable thing to stock up on?)

By the end of the week, the stores were out of supplies. There were talks of ice dams (we had a few on our house) and removing them with pantyhose. (I am totally serious. The stores were running out of pantyhose . . . or maybe it was ice melt.) A video circulating on Facebook told everyone to prepare for five days without power. (Our power company took issue with that and posted a rebuttal.)

"The mayor just declared a state of emergency in Boise," I told Dan.

"Wow! Like on The Walking Dead!" he exclaimed.

"Except still no zombies," I said. "How about tuna on pita chips for dinner? That sounds like a good state of emergency meal."

"Yeah, cool!"

We didn't go back to school Monday or Tuesday, making our snow day count five in a row. Although I loved all of the reading I was getting done, I missed the kids, and I was tired of revamping lesson plans and rehearsal schedules.

As the record snowfall began to melt, our schools experienced flooding and heat and water issues. A few classrooms in my building had standing water in places, and my classroom heat went out and is yet to be fixed.

According to my weather app, the road conditions were listed as "ponding," meaning there were literally ponds in the middle of the streets. If you zoomed out on the map, Boise appeared to be one large pond.

Then it snowed again.

We went back to school on Wednesday. The temperature dipped. All of the "ponding" turned into an ice rink, and with that, school was called off again.

On the sixth snow day, Dan had to stop me from getting into the shower.

"Your phone is making weird noises."

I thought he was joking.

"They are probably just reminding us we have school today."

Nope. School was out one more day due to hazardous icy conditions.

We did return to school on Friday. I have never been happier to see my (extremely cold) music room.

By the way, the snow is falling as I type this. Who knows what will happen next week?

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.

Becky's Twenty-Book Challenge 2016

At the beginning of 2016, I read a blog post about a woman who challenged herself to read 100 books in a year. She succeeded, and she wasn't the only one. The 100-Book Challenge is a thing, and it sounded a lot less annoying than the Water Bottle or Mannequin Challenge. But it made me feel like a slacker. According to Goodreads, I had been averaging about sixteen books a year.

I decided to create my own challenge, Becky's Twenty-Book Challenge. Also, I was 95.8% certain that most of the people involved in the 100-Book Challenge weren't performing on stage in musical theater productions for a quarter of the year.

I did "read" a few audiobooks to complete my quota. (I'm a fiction girl, but I do enjoy the occasional humor memoir which I often listen to via audiobook.) My husband, Dan, thinks that doesn’t count. It totally counts though. My made-up challenge, my made-up rules.

  Becky's 2016 Twenty-Book Challenge

JANUARY
(Finished Part 1 of The Mists of Avalon)

1. Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? by Mindy Kaling: Hilarious eulogy by Michael Schur at end of book. Favorite quotation: “Marriage is work. Why not pick a job you like?”

FEBRUARY
(Finished Part 2 of The Mists of Avalon)

MARCH
2. Neil Patrick Harris: Choose Your Own Autobiography by Neil Patrick Harris: Innovative style, fake stories alongside memoir anecdotes. He really is into magic in a totally nerdy way like Barney Stinson.

3. Why Not Me? by Mindy Kaling: Interesting commentary on body image and where confidence comes from, parents hovering and worrying about girls, telling them how difficult it is for them as they grow up does more harm than good.

4. The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett: Third reading of this book, research for a show I was in, Christian Science and New Thought. In the musical, the librettists add the interesting addition of hauntings not in the source material, manifestations of Mary's trauma.

APRIL
5. A Woman Trapped in a Woman's Body by Lauren Weedman: Funny storyteller. I was turned on to her memoirs after seeing her one woman shows at Boise Contemporary Theater.

MAY
6. The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley: Feminist retelling of the Arthurian legends, Wow!

7. Miss Fortune by Lauren Weedman: Another memoir of hers, now as a divorced woman and mother

JUNE
8. The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood: A chilling account of what could happen, fair warning this election, people (I took these notes prior to November, obviously.)

9. Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie: Research for the play we're doing at school, beautiful story about children growing up. Peter Pan is more ominous in the book than he is portrayed in the Disney version or the musical.

JULY
10. The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins: Cried through the first few chapters and at the end. Dan: There's no crying in the Hunger Games! Careful or it could be prophetic! (Again, notes taken before the November election.)

11. Go Set A Watchman by Harper Lee: Some parts well-written but . . . Sigh . . . I miss my Atticus.

12. The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin: I enjoyed it just as much as an adult as I did when I first read it as a preteen.

13. Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins: More about the rebellion, revolt! Lots of action and solidarity in the arena.

AUGUST
14. Wonder by R.J. Palacio: WOW!

15. Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins: Great conclusion to the trilogy.

16. A Separate Peace by John Knowles: Still loved it as an adult, but I picked up more on the darkness of the themes this time.

SEPTEMBER
17. The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins: Good suspense thriller, had to read it before the movie came out.

OCTOBER
18. It Ain’t So Awful Falafel by Firoozeh Dumas: Semi-autobiographical young adult novel, funny as usual, great insight into Iranian families living in the US during the overthrow of the Shah and the Iran Hostage Crisis under Ayatollah Khomeini.

19. In Between by Shannon Foy: Local author and friend. This was a vampire novel but way more fun and adult than the first couple of pages I've only been able to make it through in the stupid Twilight series.

NOVEMBER
20. Til We Have Faces by C.S. Lewis: Retelling of Cupid and Psyche myth through the eyes of Psyche's sister. Starts out with a complaint against the gods, but mercy is found in the end. Best female character C.S. Lewis ever wrote.

21. Outrageous Acts and Everyday Rebellions by Gloria Steinem: Inspired to read this after hearing her speak in Boise. Unfortunately, the essays are still relevant (in some cases, highly) today.

DECEMBER
I started Freedom by Jonathan Franzen. It will have to wait until my 2017 challenge.

You may have noticed I read twenty-one books this year, and started a twenty-second. Yay, me! I also read a total of 6,595 pages, the shortest book being 176 pages, the longest being 876 pages. I may not have read 100 books, but I feel like I accomplished something.

Until next year, happy reading, everyone!

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.