What was Your Election Day like? Mine had a fun start, I stood on line at my polling place for an hour and a half. (That's an early 20th century post card of the school where I vote shown above.) That wasn't bad when you saw on the news what others had to go through in order to vote. And, of course, it is nothing when I think of the many, many people throughout the world who do not have this privilege that we do. This gift.
I was lucky enough to fall in line behind a friend from reenacting who lives three blocks away. We talked with our neighbors--complete strangers to us--about the significance of being able to vote for an African American for President. Mind you, we were two white women among a few dozen black people. We talked about blacks not being able to vote just 50 years ago. We talked about older people, white people like my 90 year old grandmother who used the term "colored," who experienced this sense of two peoples in one country in a way that I never knew and who planned to vote for Mr. Obama. Black people, like the grandmother of the woman next to me, who experienced segregation first hand and now had cast her vote for a man who's skin is the same color as hers. We talked about the awe of this day and how lucky we were to share it.
One woman said she had a recurring nightmare that she had voted for the wrong person. In the light of day, yesterday, she voted for the candidate of her choice. And her young son stood in the booth with her. I was so happy for her.
I was number 426 at about 11am. In a normal election, I've been in the mid 100 numbers, like 166, and that's usually after work at 7pm. A woman in her mid 30's voted for the first time yesterday. We applauded her and all the other first time voters in our line. It was electric to be in that line.
Then my day continued as usual. I checked my e-mails, I went through the job ads and I went knitting. I came home and I sat in front of the tv, flipping from channel to channel, seeing when cnn or msnbc turned a state red or blue. and then that magic moment. I heard Keith Olbermann's voice say historic words. And I welled with tears for Mr. Obama's mother and grandmother and wife and daughters and for him. I thought of centuries of men and women who lived and died as slaves, who were hunted, bound, sold, lynched, jailed, murdered. And now this moment when all of that is in some way redeemed.
Here is something I heard that I think says so much so simply:
I was lucky enough to fall in line behind a friend from reenacting who lives three blocks away. We talked with our neighbors--complete strangers to us--about the significance of being able to vote for an African American for President. Mind you, we were two white women among a few dozen black people. We talked about blacks not being able to vote just 50 years ago. We talked about older people, white people like my 90 year old grandmother who used the term "colored," who experienced this sense of two peoples in one country in a way that I never knew and who planned to vote for Mr. Obama. Black people, like the grandmother of the woman next to me, who experienced segregation first hand and now had cast her vote for a man who's skin is the same color as hers. We talked about the awe of this day and how lucky we were to share it.
One woman said she had a recurring nightmare that she had voted for the wrong person. In the light of day, yesterday, she voted for the candidate of her choice. And her young son stood in the booth with her. I was so happy for her.
I was number 426 at about 11am. In a normal election, I've been in the mid 100 numbers, like 166, and that's usually after work at 7pm. A woman in her mid 30's voted for the first time yesterday. We applauded her and all the other first time voters in our line. It was electric to be in that line.
Then my day continued as usual. I checked my e-mails, I went through the job ads and I went knitting. I came home and I sat in front of the tv, flipping from channel to channel, seeing when cnn or msnbc turned a state red or blue. and then that magic moment. I heard Keith Olbermann's voice say historic words. And I welled with tears for Mr. Obama's mother and grandmother and wife and daughters and for him. I thought of centuries of men and women who lived and died as slaves, who were hunted, bound, sold, lynched, jailed, murdered. And now this moment when all of that is in some way redeemed.
Here is something I heard that I think says so much so simply:
Rosa sat
soMartin could walk
Martin walked
so Barack could run
Barack ran
so our children can fly
God Bless our children
and God Bless our President-Barack Obama
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