I remember 11/00 when Al Gore lost the election. I was enormously pregnant, and so sad to see our country go downhill. 11/04 wasn't much better, with Sammy a challenging 3-year-old. We were living in Denver and I was in school to be a teacher. That time, I stayed up all night long crying, and watching the results come in, and in the morning, after I dropped Sam off at daycare, I went to the Democratic Headquarters for some consolation. Everybody there was packing up their belongings to go home. I told them how very sad and sorry I felt about the current course of events in our country. Then I got in my car, at 11 in the morning, and backed into a pole, causing $1,500 in damage to the rear door.
In the last few years I have heard the song, "And I am proud to be an American, God Bless the U.S.A.!" I have heard it with derision. What a joke, I have thought. And then today, I asked Sam if he would be willing to call Grandmom and say the same, and he did, somberly. He is a small, proud boy to have an African American in the White House, finally, at last. I am filled with gladness.
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