It started at the Santa Monica Pier in California on April 25th. We joined four thousand others to clutch a rope in a single file line and march the two miles to Santa Monica’s City Hall.

Thousands more marched in 99 other cities, all over the world. Signs written with sharpies pronounced “Rescue Us!” to people who walked past us. A banner read “We Are Shaping Human History.”

I had only recently learned of Invisible Children and of their plight to combat the war in Northern Uganda, a war that has been going on for 23 years.

The leader of the Lord’s Resistance Army is Joseph Kony, a crazed dictator who has skipped out of peace talks several times, fearing persecution for the number of war crimes he has committed. His most treacherous crime is perhaps his continued kidnapping of children, as young as nine, from the villages of Uganda; they are made into soldiers and forced to commit terrible crimes under threat of death.

Something sparked within me when I watched the documentaries, when I knew I could be apart of the movement to help, and that was what led me to sign up for The Rescue. This sentiment was strong on the day of the protest.

One participant said, “I just hope people take notice, that they see all these people out here, saying something has to be done.”

That day, we were abducted, just like the children who continue to be abducted in Uganda by the LRA. But here, the AK-47s were only screen shots on t-shirts. They weren’t loaded and poised to fire. And here, our view was of the tranquil Santa Monica beach, rather than the war-torn Uganda where rebel troops are tearing apart villages.

We set up camp at our abduction site, spreading out sleeping bags and waiting for media moguls to rescue us. Volunteers passed out letter writing forms, and we turned our pleas to the people in power.

I wrote a letter to Obama, one to Senator Barbara Boxer, and another to Senator Dianne Feinstein. As we filled boxes with letter after letter, our voices seemed to be getting louder, louder than any one word could be alone. We posted photos of ourselves on a board, with our faces circled in red, signaling our abduction.

The people that surrounded me that night were all young, seemingly as eager to contribute their voice to something as I was. A group of ninth graders who had started an invisible children club in their school was one of our neighbors.

By 10 PM, our rescuers, including Ben McKenzie and Kristen Bell, arrived. We cheered for their arrival, but they cheered more loudly for us. As we heard that some cities still remained to be rescued, we pulled out our cell phones and e-mailed and twittered and facebooked and myspaced our calls to action.

We left at 4:30 AM, but the plight and the Rescue event continued. Coach buses carried the truly committed to the other cities still waiting.

One participant kept her facebook status updated with the cities left to be rescued. She said, “The Rescue was not just a one day event, instead it was only one day within a movement. And I am part of that movement.” Sparks seemed to fly of her tongue as we talked.

After six days, 500 people remained with one city left to be rescued: Chicago. They banded together outside of Harpo Studios and sang a spirited, choreographed version of “In the Name of Love.” They waited for Oprah, determined that they needed the mogul of all moguls to rescue the 100th city. And in the end, she came through, giving them seven minutes of air time on her show that day to tell her audience about Invisible Children.

The more media attention directed on this issue the better because this is how change starts. But in the end though, it has little to do with Oprah, or any other media outlets that came out to The Rescue. It has to do with each person that is fueling this mission, because these are the people that will complete this mission, that will ultimately help end the war in Uganda.

Go to Invisiblechildren.com and watch the documentary for yourself. Invisible Children will be in Washington DC at the end of June for a lobbying event that you can join as well!