I am tickled about his cabinet. Not sure about how I feel about Rick Warren. Obama is truly going to be a President of the People. He will be my President. The first I have claimed.
Since this is MY blog and it is allaboutme, and since I haven't made an entry in a while, I am going to tell you about my experience on November 4, 2008.
Many of you know that I ran to be a delegate to the Democratic National Convention. (I lost that election.) That's OK because it had to be. I was present anyway. I watched all the silliness, listened to all the speeches (and can't remember a damned thing anyone said). I was a true political junkie that week - and I couldn't get a fix. I wanted to know everything that was going on.
So, Obama got the nomination. I got a new tee shirt, some buttons, and continued to do some volunteer work. Looking to November. In a previous blog, I wrote about my experience casting my vote. I kissed my fingers before I pulled the lever. I was voting in hope and in love. Early that morning, there was a HUGE line down the street and around the block. I had no idea of how the people in the line would vote.
Because I ran to be a delegate, I was invited to the Governor's Election Night Watch Party at the Sheraton Hotel. There were thousands of people there. The wine was expensive but not good, and there was nothing to eat to soak up the cheap wine. I invited my dear friend, Sarah Mahr, and we watched people. We chatted up some folks (I think) but I don't remember what anyone said. To say there was anticipation in the air is an understatement.
Some friends called me to talk about the excitement. My Lauren and her husband adopted a little girl from China. Olivia is four years old. Lauren mentioned that she'll have to explain the importance of this election to Olivia one day. While we were speaking, Obama won Virginia.
My Veronica called me to talk about what this meant to her. Veronica is bi-racial. We attended the same prep school in Washington, DC. The prep school mercifully, no longer exists. Sometimes we were very good friends. At others, we were acquaintances. I was very jealous of her. She was smart. (So was I, but I had "issues".) She was beautiful and all the boys at other schools wanted to date her. One boy (now, a politician, I think) asked me out on a date. My first date! He stood me up. I later learned that he didn't want to go out with me, but figured that since I was friends with Veronica, it would be a good way to get to her! Rather than getting really angry with him, I took it as another of my many short-comings. I felt fatter; I felt uglier; I felt totally uncool. Anyway, Veronica and I remained friends. I remembered that she wrote a speech about looking forward to the day when a black person and a white person could walk down the street, holding hands, and not cause heads to turn. She was very popular in school. I remember in a religion class, we were having a very stupid discussion about the color of Christ's skin. Someone said, "Christ was the color of Veronica. I just know it!" That was another reason to be jealous.
We went our separate ways, and lost contact as high school friends often do. A couple of years ago, I "Googled" her, and now we keep in touch through e-mails and occasional telephone calls.
Her speech from high school certainly made an impact. For some reason I thought about her speech on election day. Well, my Veronica was one of the people who called, and she mentioned her speech! We chatted for a little bit about how this election was a sign of the changing times.
I am glad my friends and I are all grown up.
Then my Christopher called me. Christopher is my nephew. (I just adore my nieces and nephews!) This was his second time voting. He was a lot happier than he was the first time he voted. Our candidate lost, and Christopher remarked that it didn't seem as if his vote mattered, and he didn't know if he would do it again. He is my nephew and he will always vote!
A lot of people called me that night as the excitement mounted and it looked as if BHO was going to be elected POTUS!
At 11:00 P.M. there was a countdown. Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One! The room was in an uproar!
My response? I burst into tears. Big, ugly, snotty tears! In the midst of a room full of people. I sobbed, and sobbed, and sobbed. Now, these tears were tears of joy. They were tears of relief, hope and shock. I cried for my ancestors who struggled. I cried for my Mother, who is dead and who, I believe, would really like Barack Obama. I cried for my Grandfather who would really, really like him. I cried for Barack Obama because his grandmother died the day before he was elected. (Dear God, Couldn't you have waited a day or two to let Toot die? Couldn't she have stuck around for her grandson's election? You are the one with the miracles!)
I cried like a baby.
This paragraph may be painful to read, but it has a point. (Even if it is nothing more than cathartic for me.) I have never had a good dose of self-esteem. Growing up, I felt I was ugly. (I was often told I was ugly by "friends" and family.) I attended a parochial school that experienced "white flight" - as the blacks moved in, the whites moved out. I remember we had 4 or 5 white kids in our class, and the teacher (a nun!) decided we would have class officers. She appointed the white kids to be president, vice president, secretary, and sargeant-at-arms. They got special treatment. I felt flawed and ugly. I used to cry myself to sleep as I prayed at night for two things: one was to wake up white and beautiful. I will not tell you the other, because it would not to be fair people who are not here to defend themselves. It's too late for me to challenge them, but I can change MY point of view of WHO and WHAT I am. I am OK just as I am.
Back to election night. I didn't just cry. I danced. In the aisles of the D Train. And I knuckle-bumped people, and I sang "Can You Feel a Brand New Day?" And I danced some more in the streets of Harlem. (With many handsome young men!)
And I cried some more.
Hey, it was an evening of mixed emotions!
My tears were not just tears of joy and release. They were tears of hope. Now that we have a Black president surrounded by Black women - his wife, daughters, and mother-in-law, I don't want any little (or big) girls crying themselves to sleep at night hoping they will wake up white. I don't want anyone to make them think that being Black is flawed. None of us are "less than" - and I don't want anyone making us feel that way or for us to do it to ourselves or each other. No nuns appointed Barack Obama to be POTUS, the people elected him!
Barbara Walters asked Obama if his Mother would be surprised that he was elected POTUS. His response was, "No, she thought I could be anything I wanted to be!" This is the attitude we have to take for ourselves and for the children. "I can be anything I want to be!" (Right now, I want to be writer.)
So, now that we have elected him, we still have a lot of work to do. We must support him. We must challenge him. We must defend him. The grassroots movement helped him get elected. The grassroots movement is not going away. We the people have spoken, and must continue to do so!
OK - I sent e-mails to friends the morning of the election, and neglected to put my message in my blog.
This is what I wrote on November 4:
Dear People I Know:
At 6:16 this morning, I cast my vote for President,/Vice President, some judges, senators...and now I feel really great!
Working backwards, the first miracle was that I woke up at 4:55 A.M. It was my intention to be the first person at my polling station. I had timed the walk from my apartment to the polling station. (7 minutes) and I figured that I could leave at 5:30 and be first in line. Was I ever wrong!
Folks were speed-walking in the same direction in which I dragging. I had a little more pep in my step than usual, but it was nothing compared to others. It was as if someone was directing a movie, telling people to "move!move!move!" until they heard "CUT!" (Or whatever they say in movies to make the action stop.)
Then there was the line.
When it started to move, it moved swiftly. People on line were gracious for the movement. Some of us looked a little apprehensive. There was a young woman on the cellphone, telling someone that she was voting for the first time. Everyone smiled at her.
I found the booth for my District, and gave my name. I was asked for identification. I politely stated that this was the first time I was asked for identification. The woman turned red, and handed a card to me to give to someone else standing by the machine.
Then I cast my vote for Barack H. Obama.
I am sure that I wasn't the first person to feel a pleasant chill while pulling the lever. (In true diva dramatic fashion, I kissed my fingers before I pulled the lever next to Barack Obama's name.) I am sure that I am not the last to experience that today.
Think of the ancestors among us and how proud they must be. Think of the people who have fought for the right to vote - here in the U.S.A., and in other countries. Think of those who have died for the right to vote. I think of both of my parents (dead) who would have loved the opportunity to cast their vote for Barack Obama. I think of my grandfather, Harry, who I believe would really like Barack Obama - his intellect, his gentlemanly manner, the fact that Obama is always so neat, and, OK - that he speaks well. "What a fine young man!" my grandfather would say. I cast my vote because of the work and hopes of the ancestors. I cast my vote because of the hard work of Barack Obama's maternal grandmother. Because of her, I could vote for him.
I cast my vote for Obama because I believe in his message, I believe change is needed, I believe that this is an administration I would like to support, and that it is also one I will challenge. I believe my voice will be heard. By somebody.
After casting my vote, I met friends - who were in line ahead of me - for a breakfast of bacon, eggs, and grits. I later called my one friend who would understand exactly what I mean when I say that part of me is exhilarated, and that part of me is weepy. Voting has never been such an emotional experience for me. I get weepy at the thought of the daunting tasks ahead of us. I get weepy at the thought of the possibilities ahead of us.
Please vote. And then laugh, and get weepy with me. Eat your grits. They will fortify you.
