Megan
Who are you? Where are you from? What do you do?
My name is Megan Nelson. I am originally from Colorado but I live in Lincoln, Massachusetts, with my husband and our two cats. I was a history professor for twelve years, but now I am a full-time writer. I write magazine columns and articles about Civil War history, and I’m also writing a book that tells the little-known story of the Civil War in the desert Southwest. Every now and again, I post something about history in the media or academia on my Historista blog.
What are your fears?
One of my fears is that this new world we are living in will take away peoples’ ability to provide for themselves and their families, to choose their own futures, and to do good in the world. I was never afraid of this before, even during terrible presidencies of the past. This feels very, very different. Another of my fears is that my optimism and my faith in people’s fundamental goodness will be absolutely destroyed by this election and its aftermath.
What are your hopes and dreams for the future?
I really hope that in facing our collective fears of discrimination and inequality, the majority of Americans will rise up, come together, and battle back. I hope that this election will not prove how terrible we can be to one another but, instead, will prove how gracious, supportive, and strong we can be for one another. And that this will translate into political action and policies that will actually make a difference in peoples’ lives.
Have you ever attended any other marches or political events? If so, do you have stories to share about those events?
When I was a freshman in college, I marched with my fellow students against the first Iraq war on the day it began. And when I was a graduate student at the University of Iowa, I was a member of the grad student union. We held several demonstrations and teach-ins to fight for higher wages and better health care.
My most meaningful protest experience, though, was at Texas Tech University in Lubbock, Texas. It was my first teaching job, back in 2003. Lubbock, if you don’t know, is one of the most conservative towns in the nation. I taught my modern US history survey course with a protest theme, and for their final project the students planned and executed their own protest. There were only two rules: (1) they had to unanimously agree on their protest topic as a class, and (2) they could not protest the assignment.
One of my classes chose to protest high parking fees (student issues brought them together) and they staged a sit-in in the university parking lot. It was a profoundly new experience for them, as well as for the university and the town — FOX news even showed up to cover it. When my students wrote about their experiences in their final papers and situated their own protest in the history of American activism, they made many compelling observations. Some pointed out that their protest in the end did not matter because it was an assignment, not a genuine moment of political action. Others found a lot of meaning in their work, and used the history they had learned to inform their rhetoric and strategies in the protest.
For me, this project was about teaching my students about American history, and about how they have voices they can use in different ways. It also gave me a bit of a thrill to launch these student protesters on an unsuspecting, conservative public. I was, as one student told me, “the professor my parents warned me about.” I’m not sure if any of them have engaged in protest actions since then, or if any are marching on January 21. I would love to know.
Do you have any reservations about attending the March?
I don’t have any reservations. My mother is worried that there will be violent counter-protests, but I don’t think that will happen, given that the march will have permits and we will have security in place. But if it does, I’m prepared to protect those around me.
Why are you planning to participate in the Women’s March on Washington?
In the days after the election, I was (like a lot of liberals, I think) in shock, catatonic. Then I saw a notice for the Women’s March on Facebook and instantly, I was galvanized. To be doing something — planning to make my voice heard — rather than just reading posts of woe and despair on social media, shook me out of my post-election doldrums and helped me begin to see a path forward. When I go, I’ll be marching for me, but also for all of the women I know who are strong and determined and powerful. I’ll be marching for my grandmothers and their sisters, who grew up during the Depression, lived through World War II, faced the deaths of children and husbands, and found solace and strength in one another.
What do you hope the Women’s March on Washington will achieve — for you personally, for the United States, and for the world?
I see marches like this protest as strategies of visibility. By marching together, we will show the world that millions of women are dedicated to the proposition that all people are created equal, and that women’s rights are human rights. I plan to post on social media and write a blog post about it, sharing what we experience and creating an archival record of our actions. Those women who can’t be with us need to see that we are marching for them; and we need to make sure that both women and men now — and in the future — recognize and remember this fundamentally American moment.
[Editor’s note: The interview was conducted via email.]
