I wish you could have been here

If you are, say, an Evangelical Christian who believes that Barack Obama is going to turn America into a godless land of homosexuality and abortion ...

If you are still wondering whether he is a secret racist waiting to unveil a slew of anti-white legislation ...

Or even if you just simply prefered the John McCain / Sarah Palin ticket ...

I wish you had been here with me last night.

You would have witnessed something that is hard for me to explain in words. But if you had seen it, you might have gotten just a little taste of why the election of Obama just might be something good for your country afterall.

Had you been here, in my Paris apartment, when I woke up at 5 a.m. to learn that Obama had won, you would have seen my shell of self-protecting pessimism slowly fade.

I had prepared myself for the possible defeat by telling myself and any French or African friend who would ask that "I'll believe it when I see it." ... "You don't know my country like I do," I'd say when they would remind me of the polls.

But as I watched the pundits on CNN talk about the significance of the victory, I just sat numb. No smiles. No reaction really. I was just trying to wake up, literally, and realize that this was not a dream.

You would have seen me nod in approval at John McCain's concession speech and then grumble "where was this John McCain during the campaign?" But I would have calmly told you that I thought he had been very honorable.

And then, when they cut to Grant Park in Chicago. You would have seen me sit up in anticipation. If we had been involved in small talk, it would have stopped at this point.

You would have seen my eyes start to tear up as the crowd cheered its president elect.

And then, you would have heard a strange sound escape from me. I didn't even recognize it as an attempted sob, not having experienced such a phenomenon in years.

More tears, and then fighting them off for some reason. And then you would have really seen something. As he began to speak, I watched the faces of white and black supporters together, cheering in joy. Then, at the sight of a young black man with a single tear steaming down his face, I lost it.

I had no idea what this sound was or where it was coming from. You would have seen me literally look around to see if it was coming from someone else. But no, the sobbing was coming from me. You would have seen me marvel as I looked in the mirror and saw my disfigured face like I have never seen it.

And you would have heard me whisper, "God, thank you for letting me see this."

This sobbing would go on for 15 minutes. And, if you knew anything about me and my usual emotional control, you would have understood that something significant was taking place.

I would have told you that the only other time I had cried like this was after a good friend of mine, a white man named Mark who lives in inner-city Chicago, cried in repentance after watching a video about some aspect of racism against blacks.

Mark's tears had represented the first time I had EVER seen a white person feel and accept responsibility for what had happened in the past. And it did something in me. The next day, I was all alone watching another program about racism that previously would have caused me to simply shake my head and then move on with my day. But on this day, it cut to my soul.

The tears flowed. The sobs built up inside me until that protective dam -- constructed during years of  survival training against self-pity, shame, self-hate, etc. -- gave way. The strange sounds blurted out of me and then streamed in a wonderful release that surprised me in its pleasure.

That day maybe eight years ago, something changed in me. My friend's demonstration of repentance had helped me take the first step in a healing process against the effects of growing up black in America. 

If you had been here last night, you would have seen step two.

As I sat there sobbing, I recognized the feeling. I was in Paris instead of inner city Chicago, but the feeling was exactly the same.

Back in Chicago, Mark's tears had demonstrated repentance and declared that what had happened in the past shouldn't have happened, that my ancestors really should have had the same value as his, that I indeed had the same value as him.

On this night, America's vote for Obama was declaring the same messages to my soul. And as you look around Paris and Chicago and Kenya ... you would see a lot of other people who seem to be feeling something similar.

"We won, we won," you would have heard a black French girl scream at an election celebration here in Paris. "With this, maybe France will realize that we are worth something, too." 

If you had been here, I think you would have seen it. You would have felt it. You would have seen through my filter a bit, and it might have actually made sense to you.

You might have sensed in me and others the opening to a door of soul healing, of repentance and forgiveness, of reconciliation. Godly ideas, no?

If you had been here, even if today you are still uneasy about what evils Obama might bring to America, you might also sense that for a lot of people this election might be bringing something awfully good.

Comments

[jude]

And if you had been in San Francisco, on Valencia Street at the campaign headquarters of Mark Sanchez for Supervisor, watching the election coverage, you would have had difficulty hearing anything, because every few seconds a car or a bike would go by or a group of people and cheers would go back and forth from sidewalk to street. Horns honked. People were beating drums and -- literally - blowing horns. An entire intersection was blocked to traffic for I don't event know how long because it was full of people dancing. I called my local friends and every time I began to describe it I started to cry. I have felt connected to creation before, but last night and still today I feel connected to humanity. A change has begun.

Much love to you Tood and Yen.

[Matt]

Todd,

Thanks for sharing your story! BTW I like the new blog design.

Blessings,
Matt

[Jacob Bailey]

A long time coming my friend... thanks for your vulnerability here.. this was truly a nationally/globally disarming moment. It's been a long time since I felt any pride of place here in the land of red, white and blue, but today was different. A new day I hope.

[Christine Kaminski]

Thanks Todd for sharing so openly.

It sure was wonderful to watch the elections and the celebration, to put it mildly. I certainly was choked up. To see so many people who still have faith and hope that we can make a difference and that it is possible is incredible. I was reminded of watching the Berlin wall fall and how excited I was to see change happening right before my eyes. It's overwhelming and beautiful. I woke up yesterday and was so excited, like we were all voted as president. I'm very excited and hopeful for what lies ahead.

I happened to come across Psalm 72 yesterday and thought it was very pertinent as a prayer for Obama, by the way.

[Paul Stewart]

Beautiful post my friend. Thank you.

[Heidi Renee]

Matthew Glock sent me over to read your story - thank you. It was beautiful. I remember back last February when I drove through the snow with my family from New Brunswick to Bangor Maine to see him.

I grew up north of Chicago and was deeply affected by the racism that swirled around me. I did not have it in my home, so it confused me deeply when people around me were so taken with hatred. Especially people in the church.

I can remember standing in line waiting to get a seat to see him - the mob of people standing in the freezing cold spun far out of my sight. I was amazed. Tears kept pushing their way to the surface and running down my face.

We got amazing seats and were in about two hours before anyone began speaking. During that time I watched the faces around me - such a kalidscope - old hippies, east coast money, families like mine and college students of every shape, size and color. The excitement and comradery was tangible - we were joined together by hope.

Then the music started, a loop track of popular music with a theme - working people, tough times and a glimmer of joy, a sliver of hope. And down on the gym floor a little girl, probably eight years old spinning and dancing like she didn't have a care in the world. I thought to myself "This is the real "Obama Girl" and began to video her.

I had to stop though. My hands began to shake and sobs shook my shoulders and I had to bite the inside of my mouth to stop the keening that was coming from deep inside of me. Something was shifting, something was changing. This small, African American girl was going to grow up in a world that was very different than mine, but she was dancing for me. She was dancing for hope. She was dancing for all of us - so carefree, so natural.

As the crowd filled I lost sight of her. I wanted to see her family and their faces as he took the stage. My own face was flowing with tears as he took the stage. It was so early in the process, right before the Maine caucus - far before the themes he would focus on throughout the campaign became so well known. No one spoke like this man.

My twelve year old daughter and ten year old son were enraptured. It was a truly momentous occasion in our family history.

I heard your deep sobs that night - it was midnight here in New Brunswick - when the world changed and things began to shift.

I love the way Jude stated it above: "I have felt connected to creation before, but last night and still today I feel connected to humanity. A change has begun." Thank you for sharing your story.

Here is a post about that night:
http://redemptionjunkie.blogspot.com/2008/02/obama-for-me.html

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