Something stirs from within us, whenever we protest. There is a tranformation, a certain change, in every protestor’s expression, her manner, her being.
The descriptors are many, but language is but a substitute. For this one verb which makes us so very human.
For every Aung San Suu Kyi, there is a man who blows up children. But there is a descriptor always used when referring to the ugly side of protest – violent. Sometimes justified, sometimes less so, often just plain horrific.
But when a protest is peaceful, there are few things more beautiful.