November 4th 2008—The BIG Day!

As today dawned, it somehow felt like a combination of anti-climatic and monumental. I found it hard to imagine that barring any extreme oddities, by the end of this day, a new President would be confirmed. I started the day in a somewhat anxious and somewhat lethargic fog. I picked around all morning doing emails and uploading video. Then I went out to the polls to do some following of the poll watchers, monitors, and folks doing last minute GOTV as well as giving rides to the polls. For the most part all was well. Groups doing GOTV and poll watching included some of the union groups and, the group I was following most closely was the Miami Workers’ Center. www.miamiworkerscenter.org There was also a private citizen who organized an online ride board for getting folks to volunteer and accept rides to the polls called “GOTV Taxi” which was neat. Most was going smoothly and I saw no major hiccups in my bird’s eye observations. In Northern Miami, which is where I was, in primarily African American and Latino neighborhoods, all was lively but there were no excessive lines when polls closed by 7pm.

Immediately after poll closing, I followed the Miami Workers Center folks back to their offices for their Election Watch Party which was lively indeed. On the street there were MWC volunteers celebrating and encouraging drivers on the streets by yelling and waving Obama signs.  The party itself was full of energy and eager anticipation. The large screen TV was tuned to CNN and all were watching avidly. At one point a little girl, who was around 6 years old, was watching the very early returns when Obama had about 5 electoral votes and McCain had 13. Her little face crumpled in horror and sadness and she wailed, “McCain is winning!!!”  Her parents had to surround her and explain what was going on and it took a long time to talk her out of the depths of her despair. Besides the anecdotal references of friends, this was a live demonstration of how consumed whole families have become by hope and investment in this election.

As the streets of Miami continued to liven up and the party wore on, I contemplated my 12 hour drive to New Orleans planned for the next day and decided to take myself back to my hotel.  I watched the returns as the tallies grew and continued with emails and video uploads until around 10:30pm. Next thing you know I woke up at 11:52pm and CNN was announcing that we were awaiting Obama to come out on stage at Grant Park to give his acceptance speech. I blearily looked at the screen and tried to assimilate what I was hearing and then my eyes went down the page to the electoral college tally, and I thought, “Whuh?”  Given that I slept through the big moment, eight minutes later my day technically ended as anticlimactically as it started, as I was still in a fog. 

Subsequently as the congratulatory and celebratory text messages and emails started coming in, literally from around the world (South Africa, India, Nepal, London to name a few) and I scrolled from channel to channel on TV, I finally fully woke up and understood, “Obama won?” to “Obama won! OBAMA WON!!!”  J

I’ll end here by sharing one of the more poignant messages I received at 1:37am from Sister Yaz in California in response to an update message I sent out about the road tour:

“This day, I find words so hard to articulate the excitement I feel, and the rescinding of a 50 year old pledge to not call myself an American. This night I claim the nation of my birth.

 

This night my 15 year old granddaughter said she will stop obstinately saying, “I seen”. This summer, I asked my 15 year old, (AP English student) granddaughter why she insists on saying ‘I seen’ despite writing ‘I have seen’? She said, because she refuses to allow America to demean every aspect of what affords her cultural comfort.  

 

My grown sons cried like babies, my ex-husband and I cried and remembered the sit-ins of the sixties where we were spat upon and had hot coffee poured on us for the sins of wanting to integrate a restaurant, or gain admittance to a labour union, or wanting to register voters. My 91 year old father trembles, saying he never thought he would live to see this kind of border crossing change in this country.

 

This day, I know we can change the fabric of violence in our homes and hearts too.

 

In peace and tenderness,”

Yaz