Christopher Lane’s parents wore dark sunglasses throughout the news conference they held in Sydney to address the “senseless” death of their son: their noses were red, their sobs uncontrolled, their grief raw.

Of all the commemorations of the March on Washington, the one that will best capture its spirit isn’t really a commemoration at all. Today, one day after the 50th anniversary of the great march, fast-food and retail workers in as many as 35 cities will stage a one-day strike demanding higher wages.

One is an island, the other a small town on the mainland. One is in Canada, the other the United States. Both are isolated, suffering a long and discouraging economic decline, lacking the young people necessary to maintain local schools, wondering what the future holds.

In my mother’s telling, I exist because of the March on Washington.

And so on Monday, we once more gathered to celebrate Aug. 26, the 93rd anniversary of that historic day when women finally won the right to vote. Our optimistic foremothers fervently believed that the vote would empower women to transform the world.

When visiting Washington, D.C., the imagery of ancient Rome is everywhere. The magnificent, classically proportioned buildings, clad in brilliant white marble, deliberately imitate the architecture of the ancient Italian city.

It is cheaper to keep our water clean than to clean it up after it has been polluted. It’s also better for our fish to keep our brooks, streams, and rivers flowing freely, even when they pass through culverts. And the alarming changes in our climate demand smarter water management.

On an overcast day at one of Maine’s juvenile correctional facilities, a class of boys proudly admires their garden. As they enjoy the fruits of their labor, their teacher identifies each crop for me, pointing out the agricultural strategy that, in some cases, protects from garden predators.