I can only say hallelujah! Seriously. Something's gone right in this country for the first time in a long time and I have to say I'm just proud as hell to be a part of it. Watching Obama's acceptance speech last night my body tensed up, I honestly didn't shed a tear, I was just too nervous. I expected something to go terribly wrong. I think it was just this fear that I've been infected with over the past eight years that is still running through my veins. Billions of tiny frightened cells repeating their wicked words "nothing works here". The part of my brain that houses conspiracy theory has been firing off warning signals for weeks now. But there it was in all it's flashing numbers and colors glory. 333. He's in.
I watched the faces of those 250,000 people crowding into Grant Park in Chicago and longed to be there. I wanted to be hugging strangers and crying on camera. I wanted to be kneeling down on that stampeded lawn and thanking my personal higher power for the opportunity to be witness to this day. Instead I was home which was actually more heartening, my deeply dreaming daughter a floor away oblivious to the monumental moment that was occuring. Jason and I were actually in the kitchen cooking up an eleven o'clock feast when we heard screams coming from the television in the other room. We ran in and saw the students in Selma dancing and crying and jumping all over eachother. They called it. He's in.
We stayed up and listened to his speech which by all means was beautiful and articulate and Obama-esque. Watching his face though you wouldn't have thought it was one of the best moments in this country's history. You'd think he was giving a concession speech. He was a bit solemn, a bit reserved. I wanted to reach him and shake him and scream in his face "damn it you won!!!" I chalk it up to exhaustion and disbelief. Today hearing the MLK and Lincoln pieces of his speech over and over again on NPR I got goose bumps, I teared up every time, I actually started laughing and crying at the same time. I picked Tessa up and swung her around and taught her to clap her hands and squeel when I said "Ba-Rack O-Bama!". Then I felt a little too obsessed. I just want to somehow ingrain these days in her memory. I want her to feel this excitement somehow.
There's a copy of the Boston Globe taped up facing out the back window of my car with a giant headline reading "Historic Victory" with a gorgeous shot of our man below it. I wrote beneath the photo "YES! WE CAN". (I would've gotten the NY Times but nobody had any left!) The local baker in town motivated me, he also put up a modest paper and ink sign loudly reading the same slogan in his shop door. I just want to feel connected in this moment to the rest of the country. I want to, for the first time in my life, really feel hopeful for the progress that this nation can still achieve in a relatively short span. I want to know that we are indeed getting better and I want to be a part of that change.
He's in. Thank whatever God you will. He's in. Now I can breathe.
I watched the faces of those 250,000 people crowding into Grant Park in Chicago and longed to be there. I wanted to be hugging strangers and crying on camera. I wanted to be kneeling down on that stampeded lawn and thanking my personal higher power for the opportunity to be witness to this day. Instead I was home which was actually more heartening, my deeply dreaming daughter a floor away oblivious to the monumental moment that was occuring. Jason and I were actually in the kitchen cooking up an eleven o'clock feast when we heard screams coming from the television in the other room. We ran in and saw the students in Selma dancing and crying and jumping all over eachother. They called it. He's in.
We stayed up and listened to his speech which by all means was beautiful and articulate and Obama-esque. Watching his face though you wouldn't have thought it was one of the best moments in this country's history. You'd think he was giving a concession speech. He was a bit solemn, a bit reserved. I wanted to reach him and shake him and scream in his face "damn it you won!!!" I chalk it up to exhaustion and disbelief. Today hearing the MLK and Lincoln pieces of his speech over and over again on NPR I got goose bumps, I teared up every time, I actually started laughing and crying at the same time. I picked Tessa up and swung her around and taught her to clap her hands and squeel when I said "Ba-Rack O-Bama!". Then I felt a little too obsessed. I just want to somehow ingrain these days in her memory. I want her to feel this excitement somehow.
There's a copy of the Boston Globe taped up facing out the back window of my car with a giant headline reading "Historic Victory" with a gorgeous shot of our man below it. I wrote beneath the photo "YES! WE CAN". (I would've gotten the NY Times but nobody had any left!) The local baker in town motivated me, he also put up a modest paper and ink sign loudly reading the same slogan in his shop door. I just want to feel connected in this moment to the rest of the country. I want to, for the first time in my life, really feel hopeful for the progress that this nation can still achieve in a relatively short span. I want to know that we are indeed getting better and I want to be a part of that change.
He's in. Thank whatever God you will. He's in. Now I can breathe.
