The Day After...
I moved languidly from class to class today; my thoughts drifing from memories of how he looked--broken, defeated, frightened--to scenarios of acquittal and conviction, to resignation over my inability to be of any help, to anger, to fear, and finally to resentment over the topic on everyone's lips from here to the eastern shore.
On campus, students rushed hallways, alerting faculty and student body alike, of plans for a walk-out in response to this year's Presidential election results. As my music class began, I caught fragments of messages circulating the hall: "like that's gonna make a difference," "I was crying when I heard," "it's like everything we worked for went down the drain," "people should just deal with it," "WALK-OUT IN MALCOLM X PLAZA AT 11:30!" I sat down in the recital hall, depressed, contemplative, and uncertain whether to stand defiantly against a firm and resolute, yet ineloquent and often bumbling Texan who happened to be in the right place (the White House) at the right time (Sept. 11, 2001). Conflicted, I watched Kerry present his concession speech to his loyal supporters via the large classroom projector, and then I signed the attendance form and left 15 minutes after class began.
Outside, just in front of the Malcolm X Plaza, a collection of students began to surround a smaller collection of G.W. supporters cheering on their victory. Emotions enflamed, the national minority became a vast majority as anti-war and pro-Kerry activists corralled the Bush loyals. Chants of "NO MORE WAR!" and "BUSH '04 NO MORE" danced about the crowd in an uncoordinated fashion. Their numbers appeared significant if one ignored the growing mass of onlookers and protest groupies who sought to add nothing constructive but to egg on the mob mentality.
I took a few pictures with my phone, then left.
The train was unusually ablaze this afternoon with dialogue between unfamiliar people with common perspectives on the results. Even as I looked toward a nearby bus traveling alongside the rail, crammed to capacity with student and local residents, I could sense the tense mood permeating everyone's grim demeanor and furrowed brows.
November's certainly turning out to be one FUCKED-UP month...
On campus, students rushed hallways, alerting faculty and student body alike, of plans for a walk-out in response to this year's Presidential election results. As my music class began, I caught fragments of messages circulating the hall: "like that's gonna make a difference," "I was crying when I heard," "it's like everything we worked for went down the drain," "people should just deal with it," "WALK-OUT IN MALCOLM X PLAZA AT 11:30!" I sat down in the recital hall, depressed, contemplative, and uncertain whether to stand defiantly against a firm and resolute, yet ineloquent and often bumbling Texan who happened to be in the right place (the White House) at the right time (Sept. 11, 2001). Conflicted, I watched Kerry present his concession speech to his loyal supporters via the large classroom projector, and then I signed the attendance form and left 15 minutes after class began.
Outside, just in front of the Malcolm X Plaza, a collection of students began to surround a smaller collection of G.W. supporters cheering on their victory. Emotions enflamed, the national minority became a vast majority as anti-war and pro-Kerry activists corralled the Bush loyals. Chants of "NO MORE WAR!" and "BUSH '04 NO MORE" danced about the crowd in an uncoordinated fashion. Their numbers appeared significant if one ignored the growing mass of onlookers and protest groupies who sought to add nothing constructive but to egg on the mob mentality.
I took a few pictures with my phone, then left.
The train was unusually ablaze this afternoon with dialogue between unfamiliar people with common perspectives on the results. Even as I looked toward a nearby bus traveling alongside the rail, crammed to capacity with student and local residents, I could sense the tense mood permeating everyone's grim demeanor and furrowed brows.
November's certainly turning out to be one FUCKED-UP month...