I thought I'd take a moment to reflect on this very historic and pivotal moment: the inauguration of the 44th President of the U.S., the first brown-complected President, Barack H. Obama.
I'm partly inspired to write here after reading a reflective anecdote by a good friend of mine who attended the inauguration. Although some friends and family members made the pilgrimage, I didn't have the will to venture to DC to squeeze amongst the throngs of people on the Mall. Instead, I was quite content watching history unfold on a hi-def flatscreen--my uncle's, in fact. He'd invited me over his house to watch the inaugural events, and enjoy the copious media offerings of CNN. I accepted, although I would have been perfectly fine indulging in the ample coverage of cable-less network TV. I awoke fairly early, readied myself, took some time to warm my car and clear the newly fallen snow, and made it over with a comfortable time cushion before the swearing-in ceremony. I brought homemade blueberry muffins for breakfast, and we made a morning, afternoon, and evening out of it. I soon came to find out that it was Obama Day, the self-prescribed holiday of Obamaniacs and hopemongers. It's hard to believe I actually spent a whole day watching television, something I can't recall doing anytime in recent memory--not even on weekends. But I did. And soaked in every minute of it.
Witnessing the throngs of folks amassed on the Mall was not an unfamiliar sight; in fact, it was very reminiscent of my attendance at the Million Man March, hence the sheer masses of people didn't impress me that much. Nor was I extra emotional about the day; I spent my emotions throughout the campaign. I was in a patient state of anticipation. However, I was struck by the outpouring of emotion from so many diverse people. After eight years of governmental hell, it was easy to understand people's elation at this relieving transfer of power. But, frankly, to see the expressions of so many white folks' genuine happiness at the ascension of this Black man and his Black family caught me a bit off guard. Honestly, that seemed alien to me. It made the moment seem that much more triumphant, and I was pleased and inspired to see that. The ensuing political ugliness, the inevitable nay-saying, and virtually guaranteed media fickleness aside, just witnessing the entire Obama lovefest, and visually capturing the image of a Black man walking down the middle of the street happily hand-in-hand with his wife, being guarded and cheered on by thousands of people of all walks of life was... Pretty. Damn. Awesome. The whole day seemed like destiny, like winning the lottery, the Super Bowl, and being crowned Prom King all in the same day type of destiny. Utterly undeniable history.
