Indulge me
for a second. Beyond the politics, beyond the issues, beyond red and blue, history
was made last night. The sight of men and women, young and old, black and
white, embracing, sobbing told me that this was bigger than issues and, I’m
ashamed to say, bigger than I’d realized. In the quiet darkness of the house
last night I wept. I wept for a community and a culture that has now been more than symbolically, but literally released to their empowering destiny. Legislation has released
them in bits and pieces—a shackle here, a human right there—over the past 100
years. But legislation only gives the potential for opportunity. The real hope
for opportunity lies in the everyday interactions between man and woman, young
and old, black and white—how we treat our fellow man and the opportunities we
give each other. The citizens of our country extended a new level of
opportunity, not just to one man or one family but to an entire generation and culture, not
just for now, but forever.
My mother was a student at Little Rock Central High School during its historic integration. The stories I’ve heard from her about the private goings-on in classrooms, the hushed conversations, and the barbaric actions of some moronic students have always been a touchstone I return to whenever racial issues surface. It stings me, it always has. And when I hear Sam Cooke sing, it makes me cry. When the president-elect referenced the song in his acceptance speech last night, it was all I could do to keep from standing up in the middle of my living room and shouting “YES!”
I'd love say I voted for him and that I helped create this moment, but I didn’t. I may seem like a hypocrite, like I'm talking out of both sides of my mouth, but hear me out: I didn’t vote for Obama because it would have been merely a racial vote. I so desperately wanted to see an African-American as president in my lifetime, sooner than later, but I didn’t want to vote for anyone based on the color of their skin. That’s the point—to get beyond race. I voted my conscience on the issues. I’m proud of my vote. I’m also more proud of this country than I’ve been in a long time.
Somewhere in deepest south, one final chain has fallen from the hands and feet of plantation ghosts, releasing them to finally, finally, rest in peace.
I was born by the river in a little tent
And just like the river, I've been running ever since
It's been
a long time coming
But I know
a change is gonna come
It's been
too hard living, but I'm afraid to die
I don't
know what's up there beyond the sky
It's been
a long time coming
But I know
a change is gonna come
I go to
the movie, and I go downtown
Somebody
keep telling me "Don't hang around"
It's been
a long time coming
But I know
a change is gonna come
Then I go
to my brother and I say, "Brother, help me please"
But he
winds up knocking me back down on my knees
There've
been times that I've thought I couldn't last for long
But now I
think I'm able to carry on
It's been a long time coming
But I know a change is gonna come
(rw)
