Yes We Did

When I was a little girl growing up in Cincinnati, Ohio, every Sunday my mother would transform me from an ashy-legged, nappy-headed tomboy into a Sunday morning debutante. She’d press and curl my hair, dress me up in the obligatory uniform—starched dress, anklets and black patent leather Mary Jane shoes so I could watch history unfold while sitting in the pews of the Mt. Zion Baptist Church.

The man who had a dream was a frequent visitor as were Fannie Lou Hamer, Andrew Young, Fred Shuttlesworth and other icons of the Civil Rights era. On Tuesday, in the hours preceding what is probably this nation’s most defining moment, I thought a lot about them, along with my wheelchair-bound 93-year-old dad who has voted in 18 presidential elections dating back to Franklin D. Roosevelt and couldn’t wait to get to the polls to cast his vote for a man who really wasn’t supposed to be on the ballot.

As a child I couldn’t really grasp the importance of that parade. I knew they were special people because whenever they’d stop by to tell us that we were on the verge of overcoming, we’d have a few nervous white (reporters) visitors, too, lining the back wall. I had no way of knowing, however, that those journeymen would be part of the relay team handing off the baton to Barack Hussein Obama.

As an adult the importance of this moment in time is not lost on me. I get it. Yet, several hours after Obama was elected to become the 44th President of our diverse and complex nation, it still hasn’t sunk in.

It’s not that I’m surprised, I’m not. I’ve been predicting an Obama victory for more than a year. It’s just that after bearing witness to the struggle for so many years Obama’s victory is something that must be realized in every fiber of my being.

Right now it’s just a little difficult to comprehend this reality because in America sometimes it’s hard to believe what you see. It’s like a wow, wow, wow moment that has yet to resonate.

A true African American has become the first President of color in the United States.

For those of us in my generation Tuesday night was the culmination of centuries of opportunities deferred. After watching Obama stroll on stage with his family to make his acceptance speech at Chicago’s Grant Park, I had to wonder if the Middle Passage, the habitual exclusion, the abject discrimination, the dogs, the fire hoses, the bombs, the horrific lynchings, the loud cries and the silent tears were all worth it.

Was that what it took to get to this point?

I’m not sure because those were ungodly acts orchestrated by ungodly people. Evil, as those who experienced the horrors of the Holocaust know all too well, does not discriminate. But here’s one thing I’ve learned about being black in America. We have a natural resolve. Despite everything that has happened to us since arriving on these shores, we still smile.

And the one thing that all of those years in Sunday school taught me was that sometimes God takes you through some storms so that you can truly appreciate the sunny days.

Tuesday was a very sunny day.

On Tuesday night America, a nation of immigrants, elected one of its own to unite it so that this country, which has yet to achieve its true greatness, could perhaps rise above the internal battles that have been raging here for the past 221 years.

Yes, those of us who cheered Obama’s victory last night can see brighter days ahead but it would be foolish of me to suggest that just because a black man will occupy the White House in January that those who harbor hate in their hearts will immediately embrace those who don’t look like them. Or that the economy will bounce back by Jan. 20, and the war in Iraq will be over by Valentine’s Day.

Not going to happen.

What Obama will do, however, is challenge the way people think. He represents change, hope and progress. He will inspire all of those who dare to dream and draw upon those who died while trying.

After hearing his acceptance speech tonight I’m pretty sure that Obama knows why he’s here and what it is he has to do. He said he needs our help and he surely does. In this new America we are the bricks and he is the newly appointed bricklayer. The America that Obama is inheriting is a troubled nation that seems more intent on being politically correct than just simply correct.

Brother Barack has some serious mountains to climb.

But you know what? I have a feeling that he’s going to find a way to get over—just like the others who ran the good race before him on Sunday morning.