I watched the election results while eating pizza with my Georgetown classmates on O street. We cheered wildly when Pennsylvania turned blue. We rooted for our Virginia neighbors to push Obama over the edge. Ohio caused another round of celebration. We counted down to 11 PM when the West Coast polls closed: ...5...4...3...2...1...and the West coast lit up blue. Barack Obama is the next President of the United States of America.
It was explosive. There were tears and shouts and champagne. By the time the acceptance speech happened at midnight, the room had emptied a little ( I guess some people wanted to do homework on that night. Whatever.) Those of us who stayed through the speech felt so moved...that we had to, well, move. We went out into the drizzle and watched people pouring out of their houses at the same time, flooding into the streets. We collectively, instinctively pointed ourselves toward the White House.
When we reached M Street, Georgetown's main thoroughfare, the celebration escalated. Bus drivers were beaming. Taxi drivers were honking. A large white man in suspenders was standing triumphantly out of his car sun roof, arms above his head, screaming. A black waiter came out of a restaurant, hugged some of us, strangers, and went back to his shift. Everyone high-fived each other as we walked toward Pennsylvania Avenue. Everyone grinned. Everyone danced. People walked down the middle of the street and waved. People waved their Obama T-shirts in the air. DC votes 95% Democrat every election, which means that there were approximately 3 people here who voted for McCain--that we were all Obama supporters was a sure bet.
What striked me most was that it wasn't vengeful or bitter, despite the chants of "na na na na, na na na na, hey hey hey, good byyyye" outside the White House. It was joyful. It was hopeful. Until I saw so many people in the same spontaneous celebration, pulled out to Pennsylvania Ave just because it was the most obvious place to go, I hadn't really bought the Hope/Change premise. Hope in what? Change in what? To what? I like hope and change just fine, but I hadn't understood how much we need it, how much we have invested in this vague idea. Hope. But what was in the streets wasn't hope to replace Bush. It was hope that we can be better than we are. That we can be a more perfect union. That you really can, if you work hard, do whatever you want in America. You can be a biracial man with a distant father, far removed from aristocracy, and get to the white house with nothing but merit, maturity, and ambition. We can't change the past, but was can mold the future. It's hard, but you can do it. Yes, we can. Yes, you can.
All of a sudden, we can talk about race. We talked about it before, but that conversation was tired; this is like adrenaline. The African-Americans that I see every day on the street as I go to class, now they are beaming. I hear black students being interviewed on the radio: "I realized that I can be anything I want! I am going to study hard, like Obama." My friend Lori teaches 6th grade: her students have a new role model. Stories abound of black great-grandmothers who have seen segregation, separate-but-equal, civil rights, Martin Luther King, Jr. They can vote now. They are represented. NPR did a story about a woman who is 109, saying, "Jones is the living link between the time when black men were owned as property and the time when a black man has been elected president of the United States." Another one, a 95 year old black woman with 13 children, finally inspired, voting for the first time in her Sunday best. This is incredible, no matter what you think about Obama's policies or politics.
This is what we celebrated in front of the White House: the fact that we can change. The fact that we can hope, even if the finish line is past the horizon. Without a vision, the people perish, and we have sorely lacked any sort of vision over the past 8 years. No matter who you voted for, this is cause to celebrate. We get another chance. We were thirsty, and now we know there is a stream. I love America.
Maybe Obama will be a totally mediocre president; it's possible. But what a thrill it is to think that he might not be, that he might be great. Whether he's great or not, the people have been reinvigorated, and democracy is about the people. We forgot that under Bush, but president-elect Obama reminded us. Let's not forget again.
Thursday, November 06, 2008
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