Long Lines, Everywhere

Montrose’s post = Quote of the Day.
Heck, it should be Quote of the Year.

MM, beautifully put. I think alot of us are feeling the same way. Thanks for sharing!!! I seriously hope to meet you personally one day. Very inspiring.

Beautifully put Montrose Morris. Thank you for sharing your story,

Montrose, you put tears in my eyes.

Thanks to self employment, one of the few joys left in that scary field these days, I waited and voted at 11:30. My polling place, at NY Ave, between Atlantic and Herkimer, in Bed Stuy, was busy, but not overcrowded. There were lines in the auditorium, but not trailing outside. There was a constant stream of people coming in, it was the most activity I’ve ever seen there in the 7 years I’ve voted there. My ED, the 26th, had no line, so voting took only minutes. I went with a friend, and spent the time while she was voting to look at the people. A mixture of everyone, and I was especially touched by older people voting.

I brought a photo of my mother, who died in 1985, with me. I admit, I took it out, and showed her Obama’s name on the ballot. I was a child under 10 years of age during the height of the Civil Rights Movement. I remember the images of people having dogs let loose on them, being fire hosed and beaten, and the four little girls who died in Mongomery, as well as MLK, the bus boycott, lunch counter protests, the killings of Goodwin, Cheney and Schwerner. Although I was far from all of that, either in NYC, or upstate, where we were one of only four black families in town, I grew up with a palpable fear of white people with Southern accents, a feeling I did not lose until going to college, and after. My parents told my brother and myself of Jim Crow experiences from their lives, and raised us to extremely high standards of academic and social excellence because they knew that we would have to be better to be even considered on the same level as our peers. Of course we didn’t understand at the time, but the lessons learned have made us the people we are today.

I looked at the senior citizens at the voting booth, some of whom were tearing up, and I had to tear up as well. The results of this election mean more to some of us than just the return of the Democratic party, or even the goals of Obama as a politician. As someone who has been a veritable raisin in the cream of wheat in most of my academic, social and professional endeavors, and a “first” in a few of them, I can’t express the pride in seeing the entire WORLD cheering this man on. I know he’s not perfect, and I know he will not be able to change this country overnight, and I know he’s going to make mistakes, and I’m not going to agree with some of his choices. I also am well aware that his election does not mean the end of racism in this country. In fact, we are going to see more of the ugly side of this country, as any misstep Obama makes will be seen in some eyes as the “fault” of his racial makeup. But to go into that voting booth and pull the lever for this man has filled me with hope for this country. The next few years are not going to be easy for anyone, we are on the cusp of great change in the world. We can’t keep doing what we have been doing, environmentally, health-wise, economically, or politically. The rest of the world is not bowing down to us because we are America anymore. But I’m praying, literally, that Barack Obama wins, first of all, and goes on to become the greatest president of our age. My mother, an educator and teacher to the end, would have been very, very proud.