Well, I am glad that the election is over, and naturally, given my political inclinations, I am very happy that Barack Obama has won.  As any regular reader of this blog knows by now, I love politics.  I always have.  I vividly remember having intense debates back in 1976 with a couple of my six grade friends over who was better suited to be president:  Jimmy Carter or Gerald Ford (though I do remember one arch-conservative friend supported George Wallace).  And though I am by nature a cynical person, I do believe that it matters a great deal who we elect to govern us, especially when it comes to the President.  The President sets the tone for our nation, and the decisions he (and maybe one day, she) makes have lasting consequences.

But given this, I do want to say that though I fully support Obama, I do not see him as some kind of savior or messiah figure.  He is just as human as the rest of us, and, as he mentioned in his victory speech last night, he will no doubt disappoint me and many others with some of the decisions he makes or policies he seeks to implement.  Nevertheless, I am anxious to see what he might be able to do.

I am also profoundly proud of my nation tonight.  We have elected the first African-American to the presidency.  It is an amazing thing to comprehend.  It was only 54 years ago that legal segregation was ended by the Supreme Court, and much of the Civil Rights movement has taken place in my own lifetime.  As a child in Kentucky in the 60s and 70s, I saw the prejudice and racism that was all too prevalent and visible in the South, and in my 20+ years in the Northeast, I have witnessed the more subtle though just as pervasive forms of the same.  People I knew as a child and youth had no problem using the “N” word to the face of Blacks in my hometown.  In fact, the small section of Bloomfield where most Blacks lived was called “N” Hill by most Whites.  In my own childhood church many folks quit attending when my dad began to bring a Black woman and her family to services.  A kind and generous woman with a beautiful and deep alto that could make the rafters shake had to be told by my father that she could not worship with us anymore.  That he could not bring her to church anymore.  That she was not welcome.

So tonight when I watched the election returns come in, I began to cry.  And when Obama and his wife and daughters walked out on the stage after being introduced as America’s next First Family, I bawled like a baby.

Stuff like this matters.  It matters a lot.  Even if Obama fails in everything he tries to do or accomplish as President, tonight he rose above centuries of racism and oppression.  Think about it:  it was just a short forty years ago that Martin Luther King, Jr. was shot down and killed by hate, but tonight I can say with pride and joy that hope won.  And even if it’s victory is short-lived, tonight hope overcame.  So pardon me, if you don’t mind, while I go shed some more tears and say a prayer of thanksgiving.

Our New First Family