Three little birds
Many people have weighed in on the election. In the coming days and weeks, many more will do so. In the coming years we will see for certain whether or not hope and change can possibly bring us through. It was a bittersweet night all around, but to fully delve into that I have to share a bit of my past.
Some of my high school friends met my grandmother, almost none of you met my grandfather. Grandma and Grandpa were both from the south, Louisiana and Florida respectively. Grandfather had benefit of having been raised in a level headed household and seen to his own education. He was a doctor by profession, a life long student by passion. His intellect, poise, scholarship, and abilities to adapt to change combined with my father's kindness and down-to-earth mentality are the bench mark against which every man I meet is measured.
Grandmother was similar to Grandpa. Through sheer determination so separated herself as much from her poor upbringing as she could. For better or worse. Her accent had completely vanished by the time I was old enough to know she should have had one, and only reappeared years later as Alzheimer's took its hold on her mind. After Grandpa left her, she earned a bachelors and masters. She lived her entire life with the stigma of being black by designation and affiliation, but having the appearance of a white woman.
This is where I came from. These two people who against odds rose from near poverty status to respectable middle class citizens.
I'm sure neither of them would have believed that today, their granddaughter would be sitting here blogging about a black president elect. After 24 hours I can still hardly believe it, and it hurts like hell that Grandma, Grandpa and Daddy didn't live to see it.
But I'll tell you something. It's a horrible thing to feel in your gut that no matter what your family achieves, no matter how much wealth and status you and your heirs accumulate, there are things you just can not do. Places you just can not go.
Yes, Obama was elected not because of, rather in spite of his ethnicity. And that is what makes all the difference. No, there is no way to compare Obama with a typical boy from the hood. But its a damn good start. Will the issues within the black community be fixed over night? Of course not. Will racism end tomorrow? No. But for the first time, I have hope that down the line, my decendants wont have to deal with it. I have hope that it will die out. I have hope that we won't let ourselves be lulled by fiery words with little meaning anymore. I have hope that next time, nobody will say that their vote, their voice, does not matter.
And for the rest of my life I'll have the memory of the unfamiliar surge of pride I felt upon waking up this morning. The first time in my life I've truly been proud to be American.
Its not always about politics.
Some of my high school friends met my grandmother, almost none of you met my grandfather. Grandma and Grandpa were both from the south, Louisiana and Florida respectively. Grandfather had benefit of having been raised in a level headed household and seen to his own education. He was a doctor by profession, a life long student by passion. His intellect, poise, scholarship, and abilities to adapt to change combined with my father's kindness and down-to-earth mentality are the bench mark against which every man I meet is measured.
Grandmother was similar to Grandpa. Through sheer determination so separated herself as much from her poor upbringing as she could. For better or worse. Her accent had completely vanished by the time I was old enough to know she should have had one, and only reappeared years later as Alzheimer's took its hold on her mind. After Grandpa left her, she earned a bachelors and masters. She lived her entire life with the stigma of being black by designation and affiliation, but having the appearance of a white woman.
This is where I came from. These two people who against odds rose from near poverty status to respectable middle class citizens.
I'm sure neither of them would have believed that today, their granddaughter would be sitting here blogging about a black president elect. After 24 hours I can still hardly believe it, and it hurts like hell that Grandma, Grandpa and Daddy didn't live to see it.
But I'll tell you something. It's a horrible thing to feel in your gut that no matter what your family achieves, no matter how much wealth and status you and your heirs accumulate, there are things you just can not do. Places you just can not go.
Yes, Obama was elected not because of, rather in spite of his ethnicity. And that is what makes all the difference. No, there is no way to compare Obama with a typical boy from the hood. But its a damn good start. Will the issues within the black community be fixed over night? Of course not. Will racism end tomorrow? No. But for the first time, I have hope that down the line, my decendants wont have to deal with it. I have hope that it will die out. I have hope that we won't let ourselves be lulled by fiery words with little meaning anymore. I have hope that next time, nobody will say that their vote, their voice, does not matter.
And for the rest of my life I'll have the memory of the unfamiliar surge of pride I felt upon waking up this morning. The first time in my life I've truly been proud to be American.
Its not always about politics.