Jesus Was Also Black: I'm so late...

Well, I have gotten some sleep after 72 hours with only 4 hours of sleep in Chicago. So it has taken a little time to respond to this moment in history. I was so consumed by making sure that I was in the right spot at the right time in Grant Park that night. I was in a cab making my way to Grant Park when a roar like wave rushed down Michigan Avenue announcing that history was made.

My tears began the night before the election in my hotel room in Florida. I was watching an Obama rally in North Carolina. That was when I learned of the passing of Obama's grandmother. It wasn't just the tragically ironic timing of her death, but what he said she represented in his life. What she had sacrificed for him to succeed. It made me think of my own mother who used to clean houses, and worked in factories so that my sisters and I could have better opportunites than she had. It moved me to see how connected this man was and is to the everyday person. How I could relate to him by more than race and gender.

The graciousness of Senator McCain's concession speech, the recognition and appreciation in President Bush's comments and the pride of blackness in Condi Rice's voice all showed that Barack Obama was right when he said we are all connected by something bigger than political affiliations, we are connected by a country, we are all children of God.

Everyone we spoke with that night gave a sense that anything is possible now. During the past 21 months of the campaign I remember "hope" being ridiculed as lacking in substance, but this night hope was something you could taste in the air. It was on every face. It was in the fact that 125,000 people of every ethnic background could gather together to celebrate in common cause and not have one negative incident occur.

Of course I thought of my children also. Two adopted Ethiopians, (one boy and girl) and one biracial biological daughter. The corny but real feeling that they might inherit an America that will judge them by the content of their character not by the color of their skin.

What Michelle Obama was vilified for saying in response to her husband's early success, "for the fist time, in a long time, I'm really proud of my country", was uttered by tens of thousands of Chicagoans that night and by millions of Americans . Its what I felt. Not just satisfaction in the victory of Barack Obama, but the knowledge that it took more than black votes to accomplish this highest of goals. It took millions of Americans including a considerable amount of white voters to accomplish this mandate. In the end proving that it was not about race, but about the two candidates and how they handled the issues and challenging situations they were faced with.

That was what I was most proud of. Not that we elected a black president, but that we elected the best candidate for the job, who happens to be black.