The Day After

I've been debating writing this post. I have so many feelings running through me and I want to get them out. And usually, for me, writing helps with that. So, I hope you'll indulge me a little bit. The only thing that has been holding me back has been the possibility of partisan bickering or eye rolling comments. Please, on this one, if you don't have anything nice to say, just don't comment. I'm not into censorship, so I won't delete any comments. That's not my thing. But please humor me. I would like to see this one stay positive and carry on the momentum of what I've been feeling. I feel so many good things and, at the same time, a little bit of post-election let down, but mostly I feel humbled and inspired and emotionally drained.

I have been moved to tears. Yes, I support President-Elect Obama. Yes, I voted for him. Yes, we even donated a small amount of money to his campaign both because we believe in him and because we wanted to own a little bit of history (and boy, does it feel good!). Yes, we've volunteered as part of a grass-roots effort. Yes, I've been cheering him on for a long time. But that's only a part of it.

Regardless of whether or not I had championed Barack Obama, I cannot deny the joy and awe that fills me at the election of our first Black president. My eyes have been wet with tears at what this means for our nation, for our world, for people who, for the first time in their lives, have a president that, as they say, "looks like me." If that doesn't stop you in your tracks, I don't know what could. It's so huge, it's beyond all of us.

When I was a little girl, I didn't see color. I was friends with a little black girl and when extended family members mocked me for it, I was confused. I didn't see what was funny or what was different. All I saw was my friend Nora, who played with me and made me laugh.

When I was in high school and my best friend was darker skinned and wore dreadlocks, I didn't know why some would think my friendship with him odd. All I saw was a dear friend who I loved to talk with and enjoyed being with.

When, as a I child, I would hear people I loved make racist remarks about people who looked different than us, a rage would well up in me at the bigotry and hatefulness that I couldn't believe existed in such good people.

When I learned about slavery and Harriet Tubman, I wanted to scream and cry and run and hit and yell to try to make sense of how one race of people could do that to another. It's NEVER made sense to me--how anyone could think less of another human being just because of the color of his or her skin. It just isn't logical to me. Not in the least. Nor has it ever been. I cheered on every slave I read about who risked their lives to use the underground railroad in order to have freedom, freedom that so easily comes my way, just because I'm white.

See, this is where the Democrat in me comes out--the one that, until several years ago, I didn't even know existed. (And please know that I'm not trying to generalize or stereotype, but am speaking of my own personal politics and feelings, not those of others. This has been part of my own, rather recent, switch in political parties and ideologies--though I don't think I perfectly align with either of them). I recognize that in my former days as a more conservative voter, I am ashamed to say that I looked down on people who were down on their luck, people who were financially struggling, people who were on welfare. I felt badly for them, yes, but all I saw with my critical eye was their cell phones and cigarettes, their unwed pregnancies and their drug habits. I kept thinking that if they'd just work hard and go to college like I did, they'd do better for themselves. I didn't see how arrogant and self-righteous I was in my judgments. I didn't see then, like I hope I do now, that not everyone has been blessed or lucky enough to be born to the "right" family or the "right" circumstances or the "right" opportunities . . . or the "right" skin color. I don't see things like I used to anymore. And I'd like to think that I see humanity more clearly. I see people. I don't see color, I don't see difference. I see people. People in different circumstances. People who, however they look, however they live, have feelings just like everyone else does. People who cry, hurt, love, laugh, mourn, rejoice. People who fear, struggle, conquer, kiss, and embrace. I see people. And in this country that celebrates that "all men (and women) are created equal," isn't it about time we start living accordingly?

I didn't vote for Barack Obama because he's black. I voted for him because, despite the fact that I don't agree with all his policies and issues, I believe in him and am inspired by him and fully trust him to lead our nation in this turbulent world. I marvel at what he has done and continues to do to galvanize this nation and the world, to get people excited about politics again and involved in the political process, to remind us that Washington D.C. isn't just about "suits" and some far off place you read about in the news, but about all of us and how much we can all play a part in something so magnificent.

But I cannot deny how utterly amazing, awe-inspiring, electric it is to not only see history in the making, but be a part of it, too. I've met so many people who, for the first time, registered to vote. Who, for the first time, voted. Who, for the first time, switched parties. Who, for the first time, volunteered to help with a political campaign, because they were inspired. It's so exciting!

We strive to teach our children love, peace, understanding, appreciation, and tolerance for all as people. If there is one thing we're careful to instill in our children, it's understanding that it is NOT okay to think we're better than anyone else. Before attending our election/victory party yesterday, we lined out a few ground rules--rules about behavior, manners, and sportsmanship. We told them that regardless of the outcome, we would not disparage whoever did not win.

I was proud to be a part of a group of 18 people (17 of whom were supporting Obama--and the lone one who didn't was quite gracious to host us all in his home just the same and on the day before his birthday no less . . . I hope he's having a great day) who all watched together in a living room as John McCain gave one of the best speeches of his career and who, together and without planning or discussion, applauded him for his gracious, inspiring, sincere words. That was, by far, one of the best, if not THE best, concession speech I have ever heard. And I'm so glad that he'll continue as a Senator working together as part of the process. I think that he hasn't been truly himself for the past 2 years--he's had to lean farther right than is his nature and I think that when anyone goes against their natural inclination, it ceases to be genuine. John McCain is a moderate and works best when he is himself. And now he can get back to work as himself. Like Mark says, I believe that Senator McCain sincerely does what he does out of love of country. And that is something to admire and respect.

Three years ago, we took our young children down to Washington, D.C. to pay our respects to a woman who refused to give up her seat on the bus. We waited in a very long line in the cold, autumn air surrounded by strangers who were there to do the very same thing. There was such an incredible feeling of unity and solidarity and community. We stood on the street while her bus drove by, full of her loving family and friends. They yelled out the windows to us, "Thank you!!" And through our own tears, we waved and quietly whispered, our voices cracking, "Thank you, Rosa Parks."

And now we watch as the first black president takes his place in history and we consider going down to DC again to watch as he stands on the Capitol steps and officially becomes our next president. Come what may, this is monumental and deserves great recognition and attention. I have the utmost respect for Mr. Obama and the way he handled himself and his campaign and I find it noteworthy that he didn't make the main issue of his campaign all about race. In fact, aside from his one great speech on race in America, he really rarely brought it up. But now that he has won, it's time to recognize just how amazing it is that our nation . . . a nation that used to own slaves, a nation that used to segregate blacks and whites, a nation that denied black people the right to vote now swears in and supports a black president. It's time to mention race. It's time to not hide our tears from our children to show them just how far we've come. It's time to keep on making this kind of history. Godspeed President Barack Obama.