So …
Where were you when?
Where were you when John Glenn Neil Armstrong (thanks BroKen) walked on the moon?
Where were you when …
… the first man of African-American descent was elected president?
I’m going to remember every step of this process. I’m going to relish it.
Sometime last weekend it was announced that the final rally of Obama’s campaign would be literally in my backyard. In my hometown. Less than two miles from my house, on Monday evening. So CoachWonderWoman and her daughter, LightGirl and I all walked to the appointed place. We stood around watching the people and wondering for about three hours. There was an amazing cross-section of people at the rally. There were young and old, of every ethnic background and all walks of life. We could have been in an airport, or on a street corner, or in a bus station. There was everyone there. Everyone. (And some bad music. I don’t know who was in charge of the live music, but it was horrid. Think Bill Murray Lounge Lizard. Ugh. They played “Celebrate” by Kool & The Gang and I thought I was in the world’s largest elevator. And I discovered that I can hear “Beautiful Day” too many times in one evening – five, for the record) It was a typical political rally and hearing Obama speak was wonderful. I’m glad we saw him (microscopically) in person. I’m glad we had the experience of being amongst fellow supporters and seeing what that was like … that was more important to me. Apparently, there were about 80,000 of us packed into that field. I still can’t quite get my head around that.
Yesterday I walked to my polling place alone. Both children were otherwise engaged and LightHusband had a meeting. He was going to vote later. My polling place just so happens to be in a middle school which was once the place of worship for a church I used to go to (my CLB1). Usually the voting room is in the chorus room in the back. But yesterday in anticipation of long lines and increased voter turnout, they had moved the voting to the cafeteria. This happened to be the very place where we used to worship. I didn’t really take note of this until after I’d left.
I went to where my last name lined up with the letters and waited my turn … less than a minute. I noticed a table off to the left groaning with snack food for poll workers. Then it was my turn and I handed my voter registration card to the people at the table, they asked me for my identifying information, assigned me number 243 and I went to await a booth. I got to the booth and was overwhelmed with exuberance. I don’t know. I just got happy. Everytime I hit a button on the touch screen I had to do a tiny jig. Well, this was a little bit too much for the tiny little African-American lady who was attending my booth. I think she was worried I was going to knock it over or something. She was smiling at me, yet nervous. When I was done and she handed me my sticker, she also gave me a big hug. Then I promptly tried to walk out the wrong doors! and everyone hollered, “Ma’m you’re going the wrong way!!” oops.
What a ninny. So I turned around with a big grin on and all the poll workers were smiling at me. So I waved and shrugged and went the right direction. And told them I had the blonde streaks applied for a reason!!
Then I came home and giggled the whole way. I wore my sticker with pride. For the first time since my first time voting (1980), I’ve been excited about a candidate. I’m inspired. I’m inspired because Obama gets scripture; he quotes it regularly and not just the easy, well-known stuff … he quoted from Amos last night. And I’m inspired because he gets the “social contract” in a way that many of our latter-day leaders have not … to whit:
His triumph was decisive and sweeping, because he saw what is wrong with this country: the utter failure of government to protect its citizens. He offered a government that does not try to solve every problem but will do those things beyond the power of individual citizens: to regulate the economy fairly, keep the air clean and the food safe, ensure that the sick have access to health care, and educate children to compete in a globalized world. (italics mine for emphasis) From today’s NYTimes editorial
In other words, there are things that are the responsibility of the government and things that are the responsibility of us as individuals. Give us the empowerment to do our thing and then do the stuff that is the responsibility of the government. Give us the the space to do things locally in our communities to bring about change where ever we are and in the things that impassion us. And, well … that is the way to truly change history.