It took a lot to get me here. I wasn’t sold. I found him bland (I can't believe I felt that way now). I thought the entire thing was hype- a part of me still does- but then ‘it’ happened: the ‘it’ that silenced my disbelief and skepticism. “He’s a rock star,” they’d say, “He’s the change we need.” He’s ‘that one’ even. I saw past the hype and I fell into hope, I got caught up in the rapture. Silently, steadily I began to ask myself ‘what if’.
I listened to what the man, himself had to say. I stopped listening to what the media and the pundits and the celebrities pontificated and I listened to the man. Reluctantly because I wasn't trying to get caught up in the hype- but I listened to the man and I fell into hope, I got caught up in the rapture.
He was special. There was something about this being, this spirit, that was humble and powerful and anointed. He had light. I gave in, not to the hype but to the hope. I found myself wishing, praying he did not win!
There was a part of me that prayed even as the masses prayed he’d win, a small part of me prayed he wouldn’t.
“He’s too good a man,” I steeled myself against arguments that he alone was the answer, that we needed an antidote to all the nonsense that plagued us for the past 8 years..hell since slavery.
“America’s not ready. This country wouldn’t welcome a black man into the White House, hold the most prestigious office in all the land.” I didn’t believe the mechanisms of power- true power in this land, were ready to let a Black man, the son of an African no less, be their leader. Chickens coming home to roost indeed! Wouldn’t that be some shit!! After all the things that Black people in this country have had to endure, for the the front doors to finally be opened and for a Black man to be welcomed to the party?! I didn’t think it was possible- not in this America, certainly not in my lifetime, not when Black people are still treated as second, third and fourth class citizens to this day. There are people plotting his demise, even as we cheer and share his ascent. The person to worry about is not the ignorant, bigoted redneck from Anybackwatertownvillage, USA, but powerful, intelligent people with ways and means, who are not ready to let Black children have hopes, to let them dream that they too can be president.
“He belongs to us, his people, the everyman,” I convinced myself that he could do so much more good on the grass roots level, like Martin Luther King or Mahatma Gandhi.
"Politics is merely a game in which the best competitor wins, not always the one who was most just or true," I didn’t believe this was his place. What kind of change can he really implement? There will be so many people against him, against his ideals, the job of president is not to bring about real change but to manage the yays and nays of a thousand powerful voices all assured that they are the entitled and must be heard. That was the real presidency. I was convinced he’d have no impact beyond the novelty he brought to history.
“He belongs to his family,” the thought that his wife could lose her husband or his two girls their father makes me very afraid. I worry because my heart tells me that for the millions that are ready for this day, the day that a Black man from Hawaii takes the presidency of one of the most powerful countries on our Earth, there are still many who’d do all within their power to take that away. History has showed us as in the case of MLK and Gandhi, all it takes is one to kill a dream, to silence a voice, to out the fires or hope- All it takes is one.
These were my arguments- there were the things I told myself as the months and weeks and days that lead up to this day.
Then the 4th of November came and I woke up at 4:26 in the morning and couldn’t go back to sleep. My mind reeled. Today is the day! It was palpable. The feeling was intense, the air was electric. I laid my clothes out, made sure I had every form of ID I had to make sure they wouldn’t, couldn’t turn me away. If I was going to do this, nothing would stop me. It was too important, I had a responsibility- as much as I tried to fight it and argue against it, I made it my responsibility to cast my vote. It was something so small but its implications were so far reaching- it was like a calling, one of the purposes of my time on this earth- to be a witness and flag bearer for this time in history. I was doing this for everyone who couldn’t- not wouldn’t or didn’t- but couldn’t; For every family member or friend who lived in this country and longed for nothing more than a chance at a decent life. I was doing this, on this day, for them. I jumped out of my bed two hours later giddily excited at 6:30. I surprised myself with my levity. I made a cup of tea, grabbed something to eat- I didn’t know what I was going to meet there and prepared for a long wait. I made my trek to the polling station and I felt this nervous, anxious energy I don’t remember feeling in a long time. The air was potent. No matter the outcome, today was a wonderful day and regardless of my earlier reluctance I was glad to be a part of it for all those who couldn’t and for my child who one day would. I will tell her of my day and she’ll read of my thoughts and hopes and dreams as I waited to cast my vote and how I did this for those who couldn’t and for her.
I was in the line by 6:45, I voted by 8:45. We wouldn’t know the results until later on that night but as I walked home the gray sky caught my eye and the weather was the thing that seemed out of place. In this electric air filled with happiness and hope clouds laden with heavy water seemed to have no place. I felt like I did what was asked of me. No one will bully or guilt me into voting- on that I was very clear. It’s a personal choice. As much as it’s a right and as every fanatic would preach- a duty- it’s above and beyond all a personal choice and I did this because my personal choice was to speak for those who in the eyes of this country have no voice. I stepped up to the plate and regardless of the outcome, looking at the faces of the people in line with me, cheering along with the folks who let their exuberance overflow as they were compelled to speak his name and pump their fists, their smiling faces and glazed eyes urging others to share this feeling and make history like they are, I know that November 4th 2008 is a great day. It feels like we are at that mountaintop that MLK spoke of so long ago. They view is breathtaking.
11/4/08 7AM- 8:20AM
YES, WE CAN!!!
He did it! Barack Obama is the new President of the United States of America. I sat watching the final tallying of the votes and as they announced at 10:03pm on November 4th 2008 that the 44th President of the United States was the 47 year old son of an African. His mother- Rest her soul, His grandmother- Rest her soul, must be so proud.
I watched in disbelief as they made the announcement that felt like the Earth stopped for a second and started turning a different direction. All I could say was Oh My God! I could scream or jump up and down. I felt something settling over me and all I could say was Oh My God! I had the goose bumps, and the hair raised on the back of my neck and I felt the rush of pride and the spine-straightening surge of optimism and then I prayed. I prayed as he came to the podium and I prayed as the water came to my eyes not falling but blurring my vision as I listened to him speak. I prayed as I watched others cry freely. I prayed as the enormity of what he now means to the world settled on me. I prayed for him. In the days and weeks and months and years to come I will continue to pray that this moment of smiling, hopeful, adulation and history bending will not be marred by the kind of desperate act of hate or selfishness determined to hurtle us back in time. I pray Brother Barack, for you, your family, for all of us.
It’s amazing to believe that we are at this moment in history! Never doubt the power of three little words- YES, WE CAN!!
11/5/2008 12:50AM
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