Photo by Evi Arthur

Every time I go to a protest, without fail, I cry my eyes out. Anytime I post a picture on Facebook from a march, you can guarantee that there were tears running down my face as I took it.

See, I have always been a sucker for camaraderie. You know that scene at the end of Dead Poets Society, where all the boys get up on their desks in solidarity with Mr. Keating as he’s leaving? That part gives me chills every time I see…