tears of joy, feelings of reservation
I must have choked back tears half a dozen times today. It's still so much to witness and experience. One of my friends said that the election of Obama was the big hug this country needed after September 11th. That's probably pretty accurate.
I was in Harlem last night during the count and subsequent celebration. It was surreal, walking those historic streets, past a community center named after Harriet Tubman, over a street called Fredrick Douglas, to a friend's house in which a handful of people spanning decades and races would watch a historic moment we helped create... The house party was wonderful. The energy electric. After Obama's victory was declared, our host gathered her teenage son and his friends into the room and we all had a very grown up talk about the importance of participating in our government, and that NO ONE can limit your dreams but you. I was reminded of the Cosby Show episode in which the adults told Theo about their personal experiences during the Civil Rights Movement. It was something.
I was--and still am--proud of this country's collective accomplishment. But if there's one thing this entire, arduous process should have taught us, it's that one must actively participate. My reservations hover on this matter. I forget how tantalizing a leader can be for most. I don't necessarily understand what it's like to following willingly because I am such a stubborn individualist whom occasionally, begrudgingly takes up the mantle of leadership. I'm a woman of action; this is how it is. So when I see so many others unite and take action, I wonder... will this last? Or are they going to expect one man to solve every problem for them now?
I'm feeding the hungry in the Bronx on Saturday, as I often do, thanks to City Harvest. I sincerely hope my efforts will alleviate a bit of suffering. I hope some other people feel the same way too...
I was in Harlem last night during the count and subsequent celebration. It was surreal, walking those historic streets, past a community center named after Harriet Tubman, over a street called Fredrick Douglas, to a friend's house in which a handful of people spanning decades and races would watch a historic moment we helped create... The house party was wonderful. The energy electric. After Obama's victory was declared, our host gathered her teenage son and his friends into the room and we all had a very grown up talk about the importance of participating in our government, and that NO ONE can limit your dreams but you. I was reminded of the Cosby Show episode in which the adults told Theo about their personal experiences during the Civil Rights Movement. It was something.
I was--and still am--proud of this country's collective accomplishment. But if there's one thing this entire, arduous process should have taught us, it's that one must actively participate. My reservations hover on this matter. I forget how tantalizing a leader can be for most. I don't necessarily understand what it's like to following willingly because I am such a stubborn individualist whom occasionally, begrudgingly takes up the mantle of leadership. I'm a woman of action; this is how it is. So when I see so many others unite and take action, I wonder... will this last? Or are they going to expect one man to solve every problem for them now?
I'm feeding the hungry in the Bronx on Saturday, as I often do, thanks to City Harvest. I sincerely hope my efforts will alleviate a bit of suffering. I hope some other people feel the same way too...