On March 16, 2019, I attended the second annual Houston March for Black Women utterly and woefully alone. I put my hoodie on, dragged myself to the car and proceeded, for the next five hours, to march for myself. I got to the march’s central point in the heart of the Fourth Ward of Houston, ready and hopeful. Though I had seen not a single post, group message, email or any organization of a Rice collective to go to the march (except for the invitations I sent, which yielded no response), I’d thought about the effervescence of ahead of January’s Women's March, and I thought surely I'd see the Rice community there. I stayed for the duration of the march and I saw not a single member of the Rice community save for the one who helped to organize the march itself.