Well, I just finished watching Barack Obama's half-hour presentation on network television, and I'm still feeling a little bit of a shiver down my spine. It's not that I feel I learned anything new about him or that he said anything that took me by surprise. It's not that I thought it was him at his most eloquent or that I was more moved than usual (which I always am) by the families included in the various segments. I've been thinking about it for a little while now, and I think it's that for the first time it really seemed real.
As a child, I used to pore over my father's extensive collection of political books, many of which were about John F. and/or Bobby Kennedy. I understood that a large part of their appeal was the promise they offered of hope--of a world in which everybody mattered, young people, African American people, Jews, Catholics--a world, and a country, that was inclusive not exclusive, with a common goal of bettering people's lives.
Regardless what you think of the Kennedys' actual legacy, it is hard to deny that John's presidency ignited the world's imagination, and that Bobby's words and campaign ignited a generation--my parents' generation--along with his compatriot, Martin Luther King. Throughout my childhood, adolescence, twenties and thirties, I have often wondered what it would be like to feel that collective sense of possibility, the sense of being on the brink of something big.
As a Clinton fan, admirer of both Clintons, I felt inspired by Bill's election and Hillary's campaign, but I never felt that chill, that recognition that history was being made and that I was going to be alive to be a part of it. Now, I do. It is difficult to express at the end of what has been for me in many ways the most challenging year of my life how it feels to be the mother of two young girls who will be shaped forever by the first president either will ever remember and by what I now truly believe he will strive to do for this country. It's not that difficult, I guess. It feels a lot like awe.
I was born the year man landed on the moon. I missed that one. I have lived through wars and natural and man-made disasters. I have lived through the racial atrocities of the Boston busing crisis, the second and third waves of the feminist movement, the worst terrorist attack in recorded history, and many lesser but still monumental social trends and world events. But watching a man like this, this man, get elected President of the United States will be the most historically significant experience of my life thus far.
I still feel that shiver. I think it might last for the next six days.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
I'm so glad you feel this, Amy. I keep saying that this is the first time I'll actually be voting for someone who will become the president I've always wanted (McGovern was the other). Obama has run a nearly perfect campaign. I felt that chill when I first heard him at the 2004 Democratic Convention. It's finally happening. I'm glad you wrote so eloquently about this quintessential moment in American history.
Beautifully written, Amy. I sobbed quietly through most of last night's presentation -- it all feels so monumental. I kept the girls up to watch it as well. They have serious Obama Fever. Their commentary:
Firstly, I thought the girls were going to pass out when Michelle mentioned Barack reading all the Harry Potter books with his older daughter.
Then as they were getting into bed, Lily (8) said, "Some of those words really sunk in with me. I like how he said he would always say what he thought and believed in. And that he would still listen even if he disagreed."
Alice's (almost 6) reply: "I almost fell asleep."
As for me I felt weepy, hopeful and really patriotic. We're all feeling the chill of being on the threshold of such enormous change. xo
Amy, Thanks for being so eloquent and for "confessing" getting emotional. I was tearing up and sniffing, and I think Chris was too, although we avoided looking at each other, embarassed, I guess, at getting so emotional. We have both felt the historic nature of his candidacy since the day he announced. I think I'll be a wreck until the election is over and we know for sure.
This was beautiful, Amy. I've spent the last several months joking about how as a Democrat I'm used to failure. How even when things look to be swaying in our direction, you can't count on the outcome. And then last night as we watched his half hour presentation, I felt both that shiver that you described and then the worst wave of despair as I realized I hadn't truly allowed myself to believe he might lose. And what might happen if that's the case. I can't even begin to wrap my head around that possibility. How can this great man not be the next President of our country? I truly don't know how to get through the next five days. I am doing everything possible to hold on to that kernel of hope. That feeling that we are standing on the edge of history. That we get to be part of something monumental. Here's to brighter days ahead...
Post a Comment