Happy, proud and weepy
I'm so thrilled with the election results. I've been a wreck for weeks now, never confident that the polls were accurate, that they couldn't figure out some way to steal or sabotage the election. And now, it's over. I can relax ... or, as our president-elect asked, get ready for the real work ahead.
I think this is one of the few times in my life I've wanted to stay up for all the results and listen to the speeches, and I know it's one of the few times in my adult life that we've had a president whose speaking abilities make me proud.
Rich and I sat here at home, watching the coverage on TV. The Obama campaign had me on their waitlist, but I actually had chances to snag tickets (working, as Rich says, for the Liberal Elite). But I don't have the stamina to stand for hours, late into the night, waiting for results. So despite the balmy, unseasonal Chicago weather, I opened my hand, let the tickets go, and instead spent the last few days working on giving the union's tickets away to members who'd gone to Indiana, Missouri and Wisconsin and knocked on doors.
I'm sure I had a much better view (and probably heard Obama's speech more clearly) than many of those at Grant Park. But I know they had more of the true spirit of the night. How wonderful to see everyone singing, cheering, and weeping together. How fantastic to see them waving American flags -- OUR flag, not just the flag of one party. Not a symbol to unquestioningly wear on your lapel, my-country-right-or-wrong, but a way of expressing your joy that your country is capable of change and growth. Every flag waving in that crowd said to me that we can be proud, because our people have woken up, stirred themselves, and done what they believe is right.
Just now, checking my email, I saw that the campaign sent me an email at 4:30 pm with an actual ticket, a "waitlist update." I only wish I'd seen it earlier, though I'm not sure I could have given it to someone else. There were kids ("kids" to me, 20-somethings) on the el with us tonight, getting ready to walk over to Grant Park even without tickets, just to be there and share in the history. I envy them that experience (and their youth and health, if I'm honest). I hope they do a better job than I've done, and find better ways to work for the things they believe. I hope they succeed.
Tonight is all about hope. Anything and everything seems possible.
I think this is one of the few times in my life I've wanted to stay up for all the results and listen to the speeches, and I know it's one of the few times in my adult life that we've had a president whose speaking abilities make me proud.
Rich and I sat here at home, watching the coverage on TV. The Obama campaign had me on their waitlist, but I actually had chances to snag tickets (working, as Rich says, for the Liberal Elite). But I don't have the stamina to stand for hours, late into the night, waiting for results. So despite the balmy, unseasonal Chicago weather, I opened my hand, let the tickets go, and instead spent the last few days working on giving the union's tickets away to members who'd gone to Indiana, Missouri and Wisconsin and knocked on doors.
I'm sure I had a much better view (and probably heard Obama's speech more clearly) than many of those at Grant Park. But I know they had more of the true spirit of the night. How wonderful to see everyone singing, cheering, and weeping together. How fantastic to see them waving American flags -- OUR flag, not just the flag of one party. Not a symbol to unquestioningly wear on your lapel, my-country-right-or-wrong, but a way of expressing your joy that your country is capable of change and growth. Every flag waving in that crowd said to me that we can be proud, because our people have woken up, stirred themselves, and done what they believe is right.
Just now, checking my email, I saw that the campaign sent me an email at 4:30 pm with an actual ticket, a "waitlist update." I only wish I'd seen it earlier, though I'm not sure I could have given it to someone else. There were kids ("kids" to me, 20-somethings) on the el with us tonight, getting ready to walk over to Grant Park even without tickets, just to be there and share in the history. I envy them that experience (and their youth and health, if I'm honest). I hope they do a better job than I've done, and find better ways to work for the things they believe. I hope they succeed.
Tonight is all about hope. Anything and everything seems possible.