It is August of 2012 and I walk through your memories, a museum.
My feet pace the floor where yours once did, a battleground.
I gaze at your portrait and into your eyes, silent.
In the election of 2016 I will vote.
I, a woman, will vote
Because of your fight here in this house.
I stand under the arch and it is 1920.
You unfurl the flag above my head, victorious.
I gaze at where you stood, thankful.
This battle is won but the war rages on.
Girls and women struggle for education,
for the right to make choices about our bodies.
We fight for respect, for one dollar for every man’s dollar.
In these and in all things we have struggled and will struggle.
No jail doors, no ugly face of ignorance can asphyxiate our fight.
This, the woman’s war, binds us as one and sets us free.