Brown Like Me

 

I woke up this morning and the world was a different place.  The American people have chosen Barack Obama to be the next President of the United States.  Yes, the polls had suggested this for quite some time, but it wasn't until dinner time last night that I allowed myself to consider it a reality.  Quite simply, I never thought I would see this happen.

Earlier in the day I had taken my three children with me to vote because I wanted them to be able to tell their children that they remembered being with their father when he cast his vote for Obama in November of 2008.  Before we got out of the car, I turned to them and explained the significance of the moment: "I've brought you all here because this is an important day.  Today I'm going to vote for Barack Obama, a man who is just like me.  His father is black and his mother is white -- just like me.  I never thought I'd be able to say this, but the President of the United States is going to look just like me."

They didn't necessarily understand the global and historical significance of what I was telling them, but they certainly understood that it was important to me.  Thankfully, the line was relatively short at 4:00 PM, so the three of them didn't get too crazy.  Kate occupied herself by hoisting herself up and swinging from my arms, much to the amusement of the other voters.  We got to the front of the line after about ten minutes, and one of the volunteers immediately called the children over to the practice voting booth and let them each cast a practice ballot -- probably the biggest moment of their day.  After I had signed in, I crowded the three of them with me into my booth, put one arm around them and cast my vote.

My eyes were welling with tears as we walked to the car.  I put my arm around Alison and bent over and whispered in her ear, "Don't ever forget this day."

Hours later, as the results started coming in and states like Pennsylvania and Virginia and Ohio and Florida were turning blue, we all realized what was happening.  The election was awarded to Obama at roughly 8:00 PM Pacific time, a moment which will forever divide American history -- after that moment, anything seemed possible.

For the past several months, this election has been about national security, energy, the economy, and dozens of other political issues, no different than any campaign.  Good friends of mine sided with one man or the other, but always based on their political differences.  When I spoke with them about the differences between Obama and McCain, I always spoke about things like that.  But when I spoke with my wife, it was always about Obama the person, not the politician.  Certainly, we agreed with his politics and opposed McCain's, but there was something more with Obama.  The change he stood for was not just a change in administration or policy, and it was a change we were ready for.

And so when the election was called for Obama and the MSNBC cameras bounced from one celebration to the next, showing us celebrations in Chicago and Harlem and at Spellman College, I sat on the couch in absolute amazement.  I watched college students jumping and screaming as if their team had just won the Super Bowl; I watched strangers embracing each other in joy; I watched grandparents crying in disbelief.

And I thought of my father, and wished he had lived to see this moment.  

When I tucked Alison in bed, she asked if I was sad about something.  As tears began to run down my face, I explained that sometimes you can be so happy about something that you have to cry.  I explained that this day had meant more to me than I ever could have imagined.  And even though I knew her eight-year-old mind couldn't quite understand it, I told her this: "What happened today means that the world is changing.  It means that the world you're growing up in will be different than the one I did.  It means that when you grow up, you can be the President of the United States.  Never forget this day."

She nodded, and I kissed her goodnight.