Thousands upon thousands of people poured onto the National Mall this past Saturday to join the March for Jobs and Justice and kick off a week of celebration in honor of the 50th anniversary of the March on Washington. More a sit-and-listen than a march, the event had all the trappings of a well-coordinated affair, but not the kind of grassroots coordination Bayard Rustin and friends managed 50 years ago. Instead, there was almost a carnival atmosphere, hawkers holding up their wares, from the $10 two-sided t-shirt to the souvenir ticket to this ticketless event, laminated and on a lanyard, one for $10, three for $20. And in some ways it was a carnival, a celebration of that event 50 years ago that has been reduced for many to one phrase from one speech. But this was not just about celebration and commemoration; it was about marking a pivotal moment in the Civil Rights movement and reminding ourselves (as if anyone at this march needed "reminding") that the struggle is far from over, made clearly true in the articulation of some of the main issues animating this summer's event: jobs, voting rights, an end to police brutality and mass incarceration (this latter called "The New Jim Crow" on ubiquitous signs later confiscated by DC police)—in other words, justice, long delayed, still denied. And folks turned out, en masse, far more than expected, if the mere sprinkling of portable toilets was any indication. After muscling through the crowds of people corralled into ever-tighter spaces by the ubiquitous police barricades that map out politics in public space these days, my date and I grabbed a spot in the shade and sat down to listen to speakers. Oh, and there were speakers. Each was allotted just a minute or two, and music played the speakers off if they went on too long. This was particularly awkward for the speaker who passionately urged us, "And this is the question I want all of you to ask yourselves," only to have that question drowned out by smooth jazz.