America wins

I have just watched Senator McCain's concession speech, followed by Senator Obama's speech. It is an extraordinary time in our history. I loved that Senator McCain emphasized that he would continue working for America, and that Barak Obama would be his president. We've changed, we Americans. We needed to. We've elected a non-white as President, and it's not even a huge deal.

I have not been a vocal supporter of Barak Obama; I liked both candidates in fact. But I did not like the politics of McCain's supporters. I voted for Obama.

Watching the crowds waiting for President-elect Obama to come out and speak made me consider the many things I have observed since my teens, when racial discrimination was real in our South, and heroic marchers defied the status quo to gain the freedom to be Americans. I remember cringing while watching the news of those events. During a summer in Mexico I saw on the news fire hoses turned on freedom marchers. I felt humiliated for my country as the mother in my Mexican family commented on the "poor black people" who were being so abused.

I remember my incredulity that people could hate one another for such trivial differences, and my vow to raise any child of mine to be colorblind. I remember my strong desire to treat all people with dignity and honor, despite those who would not.

I remember my determination to leave the country if George Wallace won his race for President, fearing his platform of racism and hatred.

Dr. Martin Luther King's "I have a Dream" speech is memorized in part by many schoolchildren. I thought of it as I watched the waiting crowd. The candidate was elected, to paraphrase Dr. King, "not on the color of his skin but on the content of his character." Unlike the crowds who gathered in the Mall to listen to Dr. King speak, in Chicago the crowd was of all ages and all races, together to greet their victorious candidate. It was, to use the Biblical phrase, a "mixed multitude."

One might expect wild celebration of this crowd, an out-of-control mob scene. But they waited with calm jubliation, some dancing to the background music, anticipating Obama's appearance. For the most part, their noise did not interrupt Obama's speech.

There were huge smiles and tears of joy. I was moved as I watched the crowd, thinking what a great moment this is for our country. When the camera zoomed in on Jesse Jackson, he had tears streaming down his face. I suspect they were not so much tears of joy but tears of accomplishment, of completion; tears, perhaps, of satisfaction. And joy.

And the tears in Jackson's eyes are also in mine.