Reflecting Pool 3
Reflecting Pool 3
Originally uploaded by docwolfie
It's still a thrill to pick up the newspaper and read the caption: "President Obama talks with Chief of Staff..."
President Obama. PRESIDENT Obama! President OBAMA!!!
I attended the inauguration of our 44th President this past Tuesday, somehow managing to get up near the reflecting pool despite having left the house at 9 am instead of 5 like we were supposed to.
The Metro was packed far too close for comfort, but I was amazed by the civility of the Washingtonians waiting on the platform, their faces virtuous and mournful as they waited for a train that wasn't quite so stuffed. In Japan, those trains would've been deemed quite acceptable, and a dozen workers would've shoved themselves into the crowded car. By the third train, we were getting desperate, and so we pushed into an opening a toddler might have fit and bounced anxiously, hoping to get there on time.
Once above ground again, we found out timing didn't matter in making it to the ceremony. Sneakiness and flagrant disregard of law enforcement officers' orders were the rule of the day. The street-wide crowd shuffling slowly toward the gate? Walk on the grass around them. Stuck at the gates by a line of capitol police? Dodge around their twenty-foot blockade and run across the street. Halfway across the street, we faltered, and a cop yelled to get to the side. "Either side?" Will asked. "Sure, fine. Whatever," the frustrated cop answered. So we ran, and joined the group across the street, beneath the "SILVER GATE" banner. Yes! we thought. We're closer! Will had gotten us Silver tickets, close enough to be part of the crowd and feel the electricity of the event without actually being able to see anything, and we were at the silver gate! Finally! We plunged into the crowd, wriggling as far as we could into the throng.
All I could see were bodies and faces, stretching across my line of sight, a few trees, and far away, the Capitol building. Where was the line going? Was the checkpoint moving? Where were the security screenings? Where were we supposed to be going? Was anyone getting in? Should we just go home?
The nature of an uninformed crowd runs towards gossip and conjecture. "The gate is to the left! Everybody move left!" "We should stay put!" "Just hop over the barriers!" "Go right and up Independence -there's a gate working there!" "They'll let people in in a minute, there was a security breach so we have to wait for a sec!" "MOVE LEFT!"
We moved left. The whole crowd moved left, suddenly streaming quickly away from the silver banner. We picked up our feet, started to trot, and found ourselves running alongside the plastic mesh fencing separating the street from the reflecting pool lawn. A sag in the fencing grew deeper as bodies pushed against it, and a foot trampled it to the ground. "Let's go!" Will grabbed my hand and we ran onto the nearly empty lawn, laughing like fools and praying we wouldn't get caught. We never used our silver tickets at all.
It was wonderful.
All around me, people cried and cheered, sobbing with joy as Obama took the oath of office. This was a new day, we felt. We could be something inspired. These United States can work to be a shining nation on a hill, using our power and strength for good. We can be citizens of a proud and vital country. We can teach our children to believe in a brighter world, and we can start building it today. It all starts now.
I believe that, most days. Sometimes I get discouraged, hitting rejections from jobs I've applied to, getting screwed over by the insurance company, spending a night in the bar without anyone asking my phone number, until I get discouraged. I can't, I think. I can't succeed. I can't do well. I can't have a happy life, a healthy love life, friends and health and security and job satisfaction. Everything is stacked against me, and I'm tired of struggling with a stone pinning me to the floor.
But- I can. I will. I break down on the phone with my mother in the morning, spend the evening watching tv shows on DVD and wishing someone would call. But the morning will bring a new start, and I can do it right tomorrow. I'll get a job, and an apartment where I'll hang the pictures I've been collecting. The economy will bounce back eventually, and we'll have learned to take simple joys where we can find them. I'll kiss my friends and laugh and open a new bottle of wine. We'll invest in environment and education, and maybe healthcare will even improve. I'll finish knitting my blue alpaca scarf.
This too shall pass.