I took a very long walk today, from the District Armory to the Capitol Building and White House. There, about 1,000 D.C. church-goers gathered to lament the murder of George Floyd, to protest, and to pray among the monuments.  I chose to join with the Faith+Works D.C. march today for a few reasons: 

First, the deaths of unarmed black people at the hands of law enforcement officers are unjust and ongoing.  Black Lives Matter. Extrajudicial killings must stop.

Second, the Christians of Washington D.C. are my people.  I have a leadership role at my church on Capitol Hill and a responsibility to advocate for the congregation's well-being.  I attend a diverse, majority-white church.  We believe that when one member of our flock has a problem, we all have a problem (See Matthew 18:12-14).  I carried hopes and fears for the children of color in my congregation as I passed monuments to abolition and the arts.  

Third, I must speak out publicly against the tear-gassing of a peaceful crowd in Lafayette Square for the sake of a photo opp at St. John's church. Usually, I don't bring my spirituality out into the open on this blog.  I prefer to focus on design ethics.  But, usually, POTUS doesn't use chemical agents to disperse protesters so that he can waggle a Bible in front of a historic church.  These are unusual times.  I do not understand the religion that cheers or excuses this behavior.  

Last,  I wanted to participate so that I could share the experience.  This is what I saw and felt:

We walked for a few hours, singing, waving signs with BLM slogans and bible verses.  There was some chanting "DO JUSTICE...LOVE MERCY!" (See Micah 6:8). The chanting never got very loud.  I have not had negative experiences with police.  It was difficult to conjure passion in my rebuke against a justice system that has harmed others, but not me. 

Our crowd was all wearing masks. Leaders removed them to lead singing and prayer through the megaphones.  Churches and the NAACP handed out water and snacks in the sun.

I learned that the go-to songs of Faith+Works' black leaders were unfamiliar to me and most of the people in the crowd.  The marshals led us with grace despite our ignorance. 

Bicycle-police escorted us without incident.  There were no rioters.  Nothing was on fire.

The city was eerily empty,  Several blocks were boarded-up. When we finally arrived at the White-house compound, it was wrapped in layers of chain-link fence and graffiti.  I have never seen D.C. like this.  At Black Lives Matter Plaza, we intersected with members of several other marches while singing "Amazing Grace."  Our group was greeted with cameras and expressions of acceptance and confusion.

One march marshal led us in prayer and we dispersed.

* According to the Washington Post, Mitt Romney joined us as we walked past the monuments and Humvees on Pennsylvania Ave. I was unaware of this at the time.  Articles have also referred to the marchers as "conservative evangelicals" a term that I wouldn't apply to myself.   

* This article (from local news blog, DCist) reflects my experience of the march and provides a profile of one of the pastors that led it: https://dcist.com/story/20/06/08/hundreds-from-wards-7-and-8-join-faith-filled-march-to-the-capitol/

On October 5th, the American Veterans Disabled for Life Memorial was dedicated near the National Mall.  I attended both out of personal interest and because I worked for the lead design firm on the project.* 

Dedication day was bright and breezy. Donors and sponsors spoke about service and sacrifice. They explained that soldiers are unsung heroes. The President shared similar sentiments. After the ceremony, the crowd explored the memorial and snapped photos: 

Fountain *click* - Flame *click* - Flag *click* 

Several of the veterans whose images were featured in the monument's walls posed to have their pictures taken with their pictures.  It was a bit surreal, but added an interesting new dimension to an already multi-layered memorial. 

Though the granite walls and fountain are both massive and crisply detailed, the monument's real emotional power is held in the glass walls of its memorial grove.  There, freestanding frosted glass panels bear the images of wounded soldiers as the shadows of bronze sculptures and ginkgo leaves slip through them.  At night, the moving lights of the city shine through and dance in the images. The effect is otheworldly. 

For me, there will always be another layer to this memorial. I know no disabled veterans.  I do, however, know the designers whose thoughts and effort gave this place its shape.  I have seen their concept models gathering dust in the office -  early ideas that evolved into the final form.  I felt their enthusiasm as they visited the site during construction. They projected a sense of wonder that - after years spent lobbying and designing - it was finally being built.  On dedication day, they were beaming.  A labor of love, complete.

I will visit this place for the rest of my life.  When I do, I will read the quotes and run my fingers through the fountain. Then, I will look down at those perfect joints in the granite pavers and remember the skill of the designers in whose company my career began. 

All images for this post were shot with a Fujifilm Quicksnap Flash 400 Single-Use Camera.