Something I never expected.
Last night started out with a feeling of complete anticlimax. Really there was no question, but in our minds, as soon as Pennsylvania was called for Obama we new his win was certain. The only debate was by how much, and what the other races would result in.
We had planned to project a picture of the united states on a whiteboard and trace it, so we could color in states as they were called a la West Wing, but we never got a computer hooked up. So I decided to draw it freehand. Iowa ended up the biggest state until I realized I'd forgotten Missouri and had to split that area in two. Connecticut was the size of Maine and I had to connect New York and New Jersey with a land bridge, but the thing was recognizable. I put Russia on top of Alaska with Trade Missions and Diplomacy going back and forth. The Rest of the World was a small blip of blue, though the Panama Canal was decidedly red.
This kept me occupied while we waited with the Daily Show in the background.
And then other states kept coming. Ohio and Florida... all we had to wait for was California.
When California was called we popped the champagne that had been waiting since the primaries and ran outside with lawn signs and buttons saying "Yes We Did!"
We waved our signs and jumped up and down and screamed. Cars driving down Main Street honked at us and yelled out their windows. Bikers high fived us as they went past, and dog walkers grinned and pumped their fists.
And then we ran back upstairs because McCain had come on to give a concession speech that was all class, at least on his part.
Afterwards we went outside again, in catharsis.
And then we heard screaming.
No, not screaming. Celebrating.
It sounded like the Michigan Stadium had moved downtown and we'd just won a bowl game. The city was roaring.
We followed the beacon, waving our signs, jumping, running, celebrating with honking cars and shouting pedestrians skipping through the streets.
We found the Arbor Brewing Company just as Obama began his speech, and we rushed in to join the rest of the standing crowd staring at the same 25 inch screen hanging from the ceiling. We cheered together, sighed together, and hugged indiscriminately. We heard no clear plan for the future, but we watched the man we had all elected speak of hope and change and morality and we all hoped with him for those things, and we saw evidence of it: a black man named Hussein elected overwhelmingly to be our leader. Anything seemed possible.
And when we departed, marching towards the Diag, we met and hugged and high-fived a hundred more who felt the same until we arrived at the center of campus to a seething mass of young people all riding the same high, chanting, surging, drumming, dancing, and yelling together. For the first time I felt invested in the decisions made in my country. I felt like something difficult had occurred, that change was possible, and I felt involved. For the first time I felt like I understood a part of what makes the 60's still such an exciting time in our minds. I understood a part of what drove young people then to fight and talk and care. And I'm sure I felt a part of what it must be to be in a cult, overwhelmed by affirmation and perceived power. I felt connected.
I had ventured outside on a November night in a tank top and pajama pants. I crumpled my sign, lost my Yes We Did button, and tore my vocal cords. My throat hurts today, I'm exhausted from lack of sleep, and my calves keep spasming from all the jumping I did but all I want is to relive and preserve how it felt to feel so successful, so responsible, and so connected. I want to get home tonight to see pictures in the paper of celebrating young people, spotlights sweeping a chanting crowd, police standing silently watching, and passengers leaning out of car windows to cheer with strangers. I want a sound recording of the honking horns, the screaming of roaming supporters, and the University band drummers who came to celebrate. I felt active. I felt like I want to try, to be better. And if this is the effect Obama and his campaign is having on people I think there is no doubt that it is a good thing.
We had planned to project a picture of the united states on a whiteboard and trace it, so we could color in states as they were called a la West Wing, but we never got a computer hooked up. So I decided to draw it freehand. Iowa ended up the biggest state until I realized I'd forgotten Missouri and had to split that area in two. Connecticut was the size of Maine and I had to connect New York and New Jersey with a land bridge, but the thing was recognizable. I put Russia on top of Alaska with Trade Missions and Diplomacy going back and forth. The Rest of the World was a small blip of blue, though the Panama Canal was decidedly red.
This kept me occupied while we waited with the Daily Show in the background.
And then other states kept coming. Ohio and Florida... all we had to wait for was California.
When California was called we popped the champagne that had been waiting since the primaries and ran outside with lawn signs and buttons saying "Yes We Did!"
We waved our signs and jumped up and down and screamed. Cars driving down Main Street honked at us and yelled out their windows. Bikers high fived us as they went past, and dog walkers grinned and pumped their fists.
And then we ran back upstairs because McCain had come on to give a concession speech that was all class, at least on his part.
Afterwards we went outside again, in catharsis.
And then we heard screaming.
No, not screaming. Celebrating.
It sounded like the Michigan Stadium had moved downtown and we'd just won a bowl game. The city was roaring.
We followed the beacon, waving our signs, jumping, running, celebrating with honking cars and shouting pedestrians skipping through the streets.
We found the Arbor Brewing Company just as Obama began his speech, and we rushed in to join the rest of the standing crowd staring at the same 25 inch screen hanging from the ceiling. We cheered together, sighed together, and hugged indiscriminately. We heard no clear plan for the future, but we watched the man we had all elected speak of hope and change and morality and we all hoped with him for those things, and we saw evidence of it: a black man named Hussein elected overwhelmingly to be our leader. Anything seemed possible.
And when we departed, marching towards the Diag, we met and hugged and high-fived a hundred more who felt the same until we arrived at the center of campus to a seething mass of young people all riding the same high, chanting, surging, drumming, dancing, and yelling together. For the first time I felt invested in the decisions made in my country. I felt like something difficult had occurred, that change was possible, and I felt involved. For the first time I felt like I understood a part of what makes the 60's still such an exciting time in our minds. I understood a part of what drove young people then to fight and talk and care. And I'm sure I felt a part of what it must be to be in a cult, overwhelmed by affirmation and perceived power. I felt connected.
I had ventured outside on a November night in a tank top and pajama pants. I crumpled my sign, lost my Yes We Did button, and tore my vocal cords. My throat hurts today, I'm exhausted from lack of sleep, and my calves keep spasming from all the jumping I did but all I want is to relive and preserve how it felt to feel so successful, so responsible, and so connected. I want to get home tonight to see pictures in the paper of celebrating young people, spotlights sweeping a chanting crowd, police standing silently watching, and passengers leaning out of car windows to cheer with strangers. I want a sound recording of the honking horns, the screaming of roaming supporters, and the University band drummers who came to celebrate. I felt active. I felt like I want to try, to be better. And if this is the effect Obama and his campaign is having on people I think there is no doubt that it is a good thing.