The night before Election Day, both Chris and I slept fitfully and then got up early to vote. A little before 6 am we walked around the corner to the place where we vote—a Mexican restaurant with amazing chicken burritos and a kind of janky sign—and there was a line already, almost to the end of the block, waiting for the doors to open.
We went back there for dinner later that night, after the polls had closed and it was a mostly empty restaurant again. We had the chicken burritos and every now and then checked the TV in the corner to see how the electoral votes were doing. It was a Spanish-language station but of course all you needed to see were the numbers, and Obama’s were already in the hundreds.
We were short on sleep and nursing cruddy colds and worn out from the constant effort of trying to live an ordinary day on Election Day. We didn’t go to Grant Park. We wanted to be home when it happened, and as we sat on the couch switching the channels from one big garish map to another, it happened sooner than we thought, sooner and even more perfectly than I’d ever thought in my most audaciously jinxy thoughts.
After a few minutes I got up and stepped out on the back porch to see if I could hear horns honking or people cheering or any sign that this thing had really happened, but the neighborhood was quiet. I went back to the couch and our laptops and sat there while Obama’s win became more and more real on every screen I looked at. And then we finally sat still and watched the speech. And that was it! It feels so strange to feel proud and thrilled of a president, and also to think of him as a president and not the just the guy who won for the blue team.
All the same, I was exhausted this whole week and somehow Barack Obama did not cure my stupid cold. And while I know I got a little teary Tuesday night, it wasn’t until Friday when I was home sick that I really felt what happened—and I was happy he’d won, yes, but I also couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the thought of how much was at stake (is still at stake) and how we wouldn’t be feeling joy and relief of this magnitude if we didn’t also sense, on some level, how unprecedentedly screwed-up this country as become. I thought I knew how awful it all was (how awful it still is) but I didn’t understand it emotionally until this week, when I have been just wrung out by gladness. And so for a little while I cried and coughed, and then I went back to sleep. But it feels like things are getting better, my cold and everything else.
Also, and this is sort of a little thing and sort of not: while I’ve never been one to romanticize the First Family, I am extremely heartened to think that in a few months’ time the “American Princesses” will be these two beautiful little girls who are not white or blond or licensed Disney characters. I can’t help but think that will good for six-year-old daughters everywhere.
Anyway, hello, and how are you?
The thing I was using to brace myself against a McCain win was that, whoever won, there would be a little girl in the White House who was not white, and that would be a good thing. But two little girls is even better!
I volunteered for the campaign since last summer and even knocked on doors on election day to get out the vote. Watching Obama win was a dream come true. Every time I see the Obama family, I cry, just looking at those beautiful little girls. I have to admit I always thought the whole “hope” thing was not much more than a motto, but now I know that it’s actually true. We actually have hope for a better future for all of us, at last.
Welcome back!
And, I have, in a cheesy manner, bestowed upon you an “I love your blog” award. It’s here. Do with this information what you will!
I love that your polling place is a Mexican restaurant with a janky sign. Mine was a boring church basement.
Hey Wendy, I found your book a year or so ago and have read it 3 times by now…love your sense of humor. I hope you don’t mind me linking to your site from mine…freshly minted.
Love the blog!
Kelly in Ohio
I’m still twitching from Obama campaign withdrawal; the spiders under the skin are gone, but now I’m recoiling a little from this Vessel of All Our Hopes and Dreams thing we’ve created and maybe beginning to feel some…preemptive disappointment? I mean, Obama is the first politician I’ve ever felt anything like a kinship with. I donated to his campaign (the first time ever) and bought caps and stickers and magnets from his online store (the first time ever). I’ve been going around for the past few months with Obama “flair” on my car, my shirt, my head. I had a ticket for the event in Grant Park and stood like a sardine in a tin for hours about 150 yards from the speaker’s podium. Obama was the one, you know?
The day after the election I went out with my Obama cap and it still felt okay. People were still jaunty and happy. The next day the cap seemed a little contrived, and the day after that it just felt, I don’t know, idolatrous.
I was down in the Loop yesterday and saw the banners that the mayor has put up on lampposts congratulating Obama. Each has that familiar multicolored “Change” image of Obama. Beautiful, but for the first time these words popped into my head: “Our Great and Glorious Leader.”
I love the man, but he is after all just a man. And the perfect is the enemy of the good, etc., etc.
I’ve cried on and off for him (and us) all week, too. I’m still amazed he won. And hopeful, as well. But things in our beautiful country are so messed up, this recession is real, I don’t know how we’re going to fix it. The Great Black Hope is only human, and there are entrenched forces at work that will throw up barriers to change at every intersection.
And I’m so afraid someone will martyr him.
But still, the overriding feeling is hope for a better day.
We won! Hope won over terror. We are still human after all.
Nice entry, Amy. I sat at the kitchen table that evening–it was very early morning in the States–and watched the Grant Park speech on youtube. Sarah paused it once at the beginning as I started to talk about feeling represented. The she paused it again for about 15 minutes as I went through a blubbery man-cry about how I want to move home to the US, and I finally can be proud of something without so much cynicism and utter disdain for the man who represented my country and my family. It’s merely a beginning, and could be tripped up in so many ways–but what a deep-down good feeling it is to hear the kind of inclusive, brainy, pluralistic speechifying we are in for next. This is who we are–not all of us, but hell, LOTS of us.
I was waiting for a post on this subject-I’m so glad I checked back.
I was out at an old bar by the Statehouse in Boston when I suddenly realized I wanted to be home. I needed to be home or in a church- or a library – someplace sacred to witness such an event. It was surreal really. I always thought when and if he won I would scream- cry – probably both. I did a bit of both- but mostly I was astonished that our country had finally done something right after all these years of wrong. I realize Barack Obama is just a man- but I believe he is just the right man, at just the right time.