Pastors with starched clerical collars offer solemn prayers. A dozen politicians deliver rehearsed talking points. Blessings are offered. Spirituals are sung. And a crowd of mothers, assorted clergy, and restless schoolkids sway anxiously back and forth on the National Mall at the rally before the March for Life. But when the actual marching starts, that somber demonstration is transformed into a dance party when the marchers pass the St. Augustine High School band.

Students and nuns and congressional staffers dance down the street as the marching band belts out Titanium by David Guetta in front of the Natural History Museum. An Orthodox priest does something that, from a distance, looks like the Charleston. It was as lit as a protest of modern genocide could be.