Saturday, November 8, 2008

So Crazee

On election day I told anybody who would listen that Barack would win. I said "Black president" to an over-blinged bus driver on the #87, and to Geronimo, the security guard at the BSO shipping dock. I exchanged crossed fingers with several like-minded co-workers and made plans to hang with some friends to watch the returns. I was so surprised by the Ohio returns that I hollered an expletive and made everyone jump. And then...once he was declared the winner, I couldn't quite believe it. It's the strangest thing. Right after that my girl Amanda called me and she said I just blithered through the conversation. I seem to be frozen in disbelief, with tearful forays into joy, and a wonderful bus ride to work on Thursday morning singing the freedom songs that Mystic is performing in the upcoming concerts. But I still feel stunned.

So I've been watching Oprah and reading blogs and keeping up with the president-elect's new website, change.gov, the website of the transition, trying to get it through my head that this is real. Someone immanently qualified who just happens to be Black is going to lead the country. Grace, brilliance, and humane discourse won over lies, hatred and plain old ignorance and fear. I want to get to that state of bliss or perhaps a sublime feeling. I know, now, that I'll never be apathetic about the political process again. I know that I'm really willing to fight for what I believe and I know that human rights and the beautiful concepts upon which this country was founded are what I believe, what I treasure.

Just haven't gotten my brain around it. Maybe a bit more champagne...

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

images OH HAPPY DAY!

A little boy who just happens to have dark skin and who was born into poverty looks up today and sees someone who looks like he does is President.

Sitting with dear friends around a tiny TV, as one of us keeps track of what's going on the web, our faces shiny with hope and joy.

Watching pedestrians yelling for joy and hearing car horns blare in triumph on the way home.

Juan Williams on MSNBC, his voice cracking with emotion, talking about how this was absolutely impossible scant years ago.

Messy Jesse, his face awash in tears. Oprah cheering, squeezed between two emotional non-celebs.

Luke Russert reporting so eloquently on the young vote from an Indiana campus.

My mother's voice, rich and melodic, talking about the first time she voted.

Watching the people in line at the polls play with a little puppy.

My scrunched up, post-sleep potato face grinning in the mirror this morning.

Oh happy day, my loves.










Democracy by Langston Hughes

Democracy will not come
Today, this year
Nor ever
Through compromise and fear.

I have as much right
As the other fellow has
To stand
On my two feet
And own the land.

I tire so of hearing people say,
Let things take their course.
Tomorrow is another day.
I do not need my freedom when I'm dead.
I cannot live on tomorrow's bread.

Freedom
Is a strong seed
Planted
In a great need.

I live here, too.
I want freedom
Just as you.

Langston Hughes

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

woke up this mornin' with my mind

and it was set on Barack

As I walked across the municipal parking lot in front of my house this morning, the mists of early morning were just lifting, and the tress were kissed with golds and yellows and fiery oranges and reds. Each beat of my feet said "Black President." I can't say it doesn't matter in the historical sense, but I'd never vote for a President Alan Keyes or (shudder) Al Sharpton. As I joined the line at the polling place, a Black woman at the front of the line caught my eye and we grinned joyously at each other. It filled me up to see people in long lines waiting to vote--this is as it should be. A young woman came by with her Corgi/Labrador puppy (hmmm...imagine the conception) and he became the hit of the line, sniffing fit and illiciting giggles and being petted by almost everyone. People were sweet, and happy and the mood was patient and considerate. And I had no idea that so many Black people lived near me...there were at least 10 in line. I felt like saying, "where y'all been? I haven't seen you at Starbucks..."

Arlington voting is archaic...paper ballots with used privacy sleeves and heavy black pens, but somehow, I trust this more than the electronic voting machines. At one point a lady came out and said to us "it's really archaic in there," and then the toilet in the ladies' room we were standing next to flushed and the guy next to me said "That IS archaic voting."

The amazing singing storytellers of Sweet Honey in the Rock, who I saw on Sunday, made a great point...you get a receipt from the grocery store and the ATM...I want a receipt for my vote!

There was a lady who had her two daughters with her--about 5 and 7 years old--and I was reminded of the times I went with my mom to vote in those old style booths where you had to operate a giant lever to open and close the curtains. Mom and I talked last night about the first time we voted. She thinks her first time was 1960--the Kennedy/Nixon presidential election. I think mine was 1984, Reagan/Mondale.

Today is Mom's 72nd birthday. We were talking via icamera and she looks about 40 years old, lively, and animated. She said her best birthday present would be you-know-who in the White House. Hollaaaaaa!! (Maybe they'll change the name to "The Black House..." or "The Mulatto House..." ba HA!)

Now I eat toast and drink tea and look forward to an amazing day. I'm going this morning to get my shots for our trip to China. Tonight I'll go to Mystic rehearsal and sing Lift Every Voice and the Star Spangled Banner as imagined by Nick Page and then my friends and I will gather to watch history, an almost tangible thing.

Give your thoughts and your light to peace and love and a wish for a mutt puppy at every polling place.