Opinion

I am not a good traveler. I like to go places, of course, but I really hate getting on an airplane to get there.

It happened in the ‘70s, driving in my Camaro, I heard it for the first time, the song that would become iconic not just in the USA but around the world. The song was entitled “Imagine,” a beautiful song, a contagious song, written and...

On Jan. 21, 2017, I joined what are now estimated to be 800,000 other people at the Women’s March on Washington, D.C. (and an estimated four million fellow marchers around the U.S. and the globe). The results of the Presidential election sunk my hopes for this great country, and inspired personal fear as a woman, a person of Jewish descent, as well as for the many marginalized folks whose rights Donald Trump staked his campaign on overturning.I felt alternating bouts of rage and despair that we elected a president who is on record making abusive and derogatory statements about women, people of color and the disabled, as well as bashing our venerated intelligence agencies, to name just a few. Not to mention he has no prior experience in any political office.At first, I was more nervous than excited—I feared reprisal from Trump supporters; I feared that in this frustrated and angry time, a tightly-wound lone shooter might express his dissent in bullets.Fortunately, that was not the case. If the counter-protesters were there, I never saw them. I was packed densely into the center of the National Mall, near Independence and Fourth Streets, with a direct view of the nation’s Capitol. My friend and I arrived by 8 a.m. Saturday morning, and by 8:30, you could no longer see streets in any direction—just bodies upon bodies carrying clever signs announcing their fears and concerns, many bedecked in the now-iconic pink hats.For five hours I stood and listened to fierce, passionate, committed speakers and artists plead for the rights of women, the disabled, the LGBTQ community, and against a Muslim registry and a wall at the Mexican border. Speakers included Gloria Steinem, Angela Davis, Michael Moore, Ashley Judd, Alicia Keys, Van Jones, California Sen. Kamala Davis, D.C. Mayor Muriel Brown, the mothers of slain black children and so many more activists, politicians and entertainers.Despite this enormous outpouring of energy and effort around the country, people are criticizing the movement. What did you want to say? What purpose did it have? Why can’t you all just shut up and accept things as they are?Last I checked, this country is still a democracy, albeit one that’s under threat. The Trump administration has already made clear it is hostile to media criticism. It has made steps to defund women’s health and climate science, and to repeal healthcare. Protest and demonstration are our Constitutional rights and one of the many ways we can create change.Change comes when we the people put pressure on our leaders to let them know what matters to us. As President Trump’s loss of the popular vote by nearly three million votes reveals, he doesn’t speak for many of us.The Women’s March was a fierce rallying cry as we launch into the beginning of many battles: for women’s bodily autonomy, for civil rights, for a decent world where we take care of our own and stay in good stead with the rest of the world.I’ll be bringing the same fierce energy to my own community in the days to come.Jordan Rosenfeld is a local freelance writer and author of seven books. She can be contacted at [email protected].

In early 2015, three clergy colleagues were looking for support and fellowship from other faith leaders in South County.  From the seeds of those relationships emerged the inaugural Interfaith Thanksgiving Service in November 2015. Advent Lutheran Church hosted the multi-faith event, filling the church’s...

I’ve adopted several phrases that I use when life gets rough: “Someone out there has it way worse than me,” and “I’m doing this for something bigger than myself.” I used to tell myself these things when things were particularly bad in Afghanistan. I have continually referred to these lines in my time out of the service, however I never thought I’d need to use them while having mascara put on my eyes.At the Gavilan College Veterans Club, we’ve been looking for ways to help out in our community. We want to change the conversation that has become the norm when discussing veterans, especially combat veterans. A couple of months ago at a party, when one of the revelers learned that a friend of mine had done several tours to Iraq he asked him, “Are you alright? Up here?” pointing to his head. He managed to brush it off but, it’s not an isolated incident.Most of us have had someone just assume that we aren’t alright after doing a tour. One of the goals that we at the club wanted to do was put ourselves out there so that we could show combat veterans in a new light. If we could find an opportunity to help our community and simultaneously display that we don’t need to be taken seriously all the time, we win on all fronts.So when our club advisor Jillian Wilson came up with the idea of supporting Walk a Mile in Her Shoes, we all agreed it was a great idea. However, I wasn’t that excited when the suggestion came about for a tiered system of donations. With every monetary goal reached we’d make ourselves a little more feminine, and at $2,500 we’d go full drag.Some of the club members were thrilled (it raised eyebrows, but we don’t judge). I really enjoy being a guy. I grew a beard as soon as I got out of the Army. So the whole process wasn’t thrilling me. The money we would raise would go to Monarch Services (formerly Women's Crisis Support - Defensa de Mujeres), an organization that helps over 1,500 victims of sexual assault and domestic violence a year. So indeed this was “something bigger than myself,” thus it would be worth it.A couple of days away from the event it was clear that we’d make the goal for full drag. To add to the uncomfortability, I recruited my mom to help buy me a dress. It was definitely fun for her.On April 28 about 10 combat hardened veterans showed up at the Cosmetology Department at Gavilan, ready to get dolled up. We were greeted by a very eager team of women who couldn’t wait to get started on us. I was uncomfortable and they couldn’t help but laugh. I think every one of them really enjoyed doing this to us, so I’m not sure if I really need to thank them too much. A special thanks does need to go to Gilbert Ramirez and Michelle Terrano. (I know you did it just to get back at your brother.) By the time we got to Santa Cruz I think it’s safe to say we were all a bit nervous and we were right to be. All 10 of us were gawked at and even cat-called. So ladies, job well done.Our number one earner, Johnny Sandavol, who personally brought in over a grand in donations was probably the best looking out of all of us, if not the most revealing. Hopefully his lovely girlfriend Erika Linn Chesnutis will choose to dress him a little more conservatively next time. Ray Lopez, our team Captain, brought in over $700 just behind myself, although in my opinion he should redo the mile since he looked more like an 80s glam metal star.The biggest guy we got, Jake Hester, pulled in about a couple hundred. He ended up looking like a cross dressing Fred Flintstone. Jorge Gonzales was dubbed a cholo drag queen before we even left the campus. Thanks for giving me something to laugh at. Josh Santorro, with his waxed mustache and betty boop outfit, will forever haunt my dreams. Ben Sandavol went for a Marilyn Monroe look.Somebody described me as drag queen hippie Jesus; I’ll take it. In total we all raised $4,757, nearly doubling our original goal to walk a mile dressed in drag.It also wouldn’t be fair not to mention the women who joined us on this walk: Mayra Rios, Ray’s wife Elaine Estrada, Melissa Santorro, and of course my mother.The true title of queen of our group goes to Jillian Wilson as she’s the one who encouraged us to do this. A very special thanks goes out to Leeann Luna the Monarch Services Administrative Manager who was responsible for putting on this year's Walk a Mile in Her Shoes event.This was an eye opening experience. I’m happy that I did it. Even if I did exaggerate how uncomfortable I was, I’d still not like to do it again. Next year I think I’ll just stick to the shoes.Gilroy resident and Live Oak High alumnus Connor Quinn is Region IX State Membership Coordinator for Team Rubicon, a disaster relief organization that employs military veterans. He is also a VA work study at the Gavilan College Veterans Resource Center.