Much of the Swish contingent is still asleep—exhausted from a night on the town and the exhilarating evening of our pre-March sign-making extravaganza. If the turnout for our event is symbolic for what is about to happen at today’s March, then D.C.—and the world—better buckle up.

How naïve we were—and how much we underestimated our brother and sister activists. How we let cynicism and resignation leak into our psyche and create doubt. “That it isn’t the time for a March.” “That no one has resources in this economy to direct to a March.” "No one is going to show up."  “That Congress isn’t in town on a holiday weekend, so it’s bad timing.” Blah, blah, blah. One reason after another. For that, I apologize.

But last night—at Swish’s “little” contribution to the National Equality March weekend, our Sign-Making Happy Hour—turned out to be a tidal wave, no, a typhoon, of commitment, energy, and power. We were expecting 40, maybe 60 folks, tops. Have a drink or two. Make a sign. Meet a couple new people.

By 6:15 pm, there were around 250 people clamoring for markers and poster board and scissors and slogans. It was as if every piece of poster board and marker and crayon in a half-mile radius were looted from CVS, Staples, and Utrecht Art Supplies (thank you to the staff there for the March discount!). Our hosts at the hotel brought down white sheets at one point and folks went to town, cutting and tearing and painting.  All of us from Swish were looking at each other in disbelief. Disbelief that quickly turned into inspiration for what we were creating together with all these strangers. Strangers with whom we are now bonded for life because of our collective commitment and stand for our LGBT loved ones.

We met folks from all across the country—Denver, Baltimore, Los Angeles, Minneapolis. We met a lesbian couple with their 7 month-old daughter, Frances, clad in a baby rainbow hoodie, who are traveling the country in an RV to every state where they are NOT allowed to be married. Where their love and their beautiful family are not recognized by our laws. We met students as young as 17 and 18 who scrimped and saved money to travel to D.C. to make their young voices heard and exercise their democratic rights, which some (who shall remain nameless) seem to think will have no impact.

At 6:45, we got word from the March organizers that President Obama’s speech to the Human Rights Campaign would be aired live from a block away at the Convention Center. Our friend (and hero), David Del Russo, the general manager at the Embassy Suites, said that we could extend our stay past 7 to watch the broadcast together live. People stayed. We watched together as a community. Many cried.

That this happened in the city where all of our laws are debated and made was not lost on us. And we got—if we hadn’t before then—our purpose for today’s March. Today, the world will know what we all stand for. Today, we march for power, for equality, for family and for love. And to hell with circumstances and reasons.

As I sat at my computer sending equali-tweets for Swish, I read someone else’s tweet that Obama’s speech was about to come on in T-minus 3 minutes. I logged on to cnn.com and started to stream the HRC dinner with Joe Solmonese delivering some absolutely moving words about the work we have done and continue to do as a community.

Sitting there listening, I decided to give my parents a ring to tune in on CNN to watch, in hopes that they would further their needs to understand my life. Rather than take 15 minutes to explain to them what CNN was, I just threw my cell phone next to a speaker and implored them to listen.

Obama delivered his speech ... muttering from dad became apparent when the president declared the Don’t Ask Don’t Tell issue is going to be dealt with. My father, retired, who also served in the Army and Air Force, was muttering shock, resistance to change, disbelief ... yet he stayed on the call to hear what else was being said about gay rights. This was a total breakthrough and a shocker for me.

Mom, who doesn’t think it’s polite to ask a woman her age, made sure I was on speakerphone, and made sure she kept her and my dad’s ear in check. They know that the last 17 years I spent fighting them to understand that my being gay is not a choice, that the devil is not at work and has not invaded my body, and that for me to be judged based on my sexual orientation has taken an enormous toll on my psyche and my family relationships.

They knew it was time to further their understanding and listened to Obama who spoke everything I ever tried to communicate. My parents (and I am grateful that they are alive to do this) are showing me they love me and finally willing to understand me, understand who we are as an LGBT community. (A new alphabet for the under-informed.)

May the National Equality March tomorrow further this ripple effect of understanding to the rest of this country so we can ... “Get on with it!”

In times of civil unrest, we cannot afford to be sending negative messages about solidarity, and Barney Frank’s comments trivializing the participation in the March for Equality are misguided and downright irresponsible.

The March is about more than any one person’s agenda, about more than any one group’s agenda, and about more than instant gratification. It is about showing up and being counted as a unified force for change, and being photographed standing together in the city where laws are written to demand equal rights.

This is not the time to encourage people to stay home, to dismisss their time and energy as unimportant or unneeded. Change is a collective force that demands constant attention. It starts from the smallest intent, gaining momentum and growing larger as the ripples meet others, until it erupts as a torrent unable to be ignored.

This is what the March is about. No civil rights movement has taken place without a vocal minority taking to the streets.

During the Civil War, with construction of the capitol dome in D.C. halted, President Lincoln made a bold statement declaring that construction should continue, even with the country divided. He insisted that the people needed to see progress, because it would signal that nothing could stop America from moving forward. With the fight for LGBT rights still unfinished, we need to send that same message. And that is why I am marching.

Organizers of the National Equality March have said the March will prove there is solidarity among gay and straight citizens, and we agree that equal rights are overdue for LGBT Americans.

Organizers never promised that the March was going to change legislation over the weekend.  Rather, it would empower people to get better educated on the issues, and take part in future lobbying for change. How is this going to happen? By bringing people together ... by marching side by side ... by absorbing the positive energy from each other and becoming inspired to take action.

A new generation needs this “traditional” kind of advocacy that is absent when signing online petitions. That is the point Barney Frank is missing, and it is unfortunate.

We arrive at our hotel, the Embassy Suites. The mood is relaxed, anticipatory, and buoyed by a gift basket from our amazing hotel hookup, laden with munchies, beverages, and a half-dozen mini-Stolis wrapped in a big red bow. We feel instantly at home.

Pre-Pre-March is pretty mellow—it’s a little difficult to tell who’s here for the party and who’s just killing time between Happy Hours. But our floor seems to be the designated Gay Landing Strip—rooms on all three sides of us ring with merriment. We pass the early evening listening to Obama’s Nobel Prize acceptance speech and Cleve Jones’ fiery rhetoric. It’s time to enjoy D.C. after-hours ...