The Bandwagon

Well, I've had a day or two to marinate on the inauguration of Barack Hussein Obama. When I look back at this time I will always remember the range of emotions I felt during the campaign, election, and inauguration. It wasn't lost on me that I spent a significant amount of time over the last two and half years traveling in the South, usually on business. Over this period, I met white supporters of Mr. Obama, optimists, skeptics who happened to be black, segregationists, and even my own history. I have to wonder if it was meant to be this way; that I was supposed to better understand my place in America during such a momentous time.

At first, I was very skeptical. When I first heard of Barack Obama in 2005 he had no intentions of running for president but it was obvious that someone wanted him to after his keynote address at the DNC the year before. He was receiving an unusually high amount of press for a junior senator and his 'gift of gab' was front and center. That gift is what troubled me in the beginning. He seemed more orator than ordained. Eventually he announced that he would run for commander-in-chief but there was no inner-conflict; I already knew that I wouldn't vote for him solely because he was brown like me. Something this important cannot be performed viscerally. My skepticism runs deep when it comes to politics and he would have to earn my vote by being the lesser of many evils.

Soon enough, he squared off against Hillary Clinton in the primaries. I was determined not to hold Bill Clinton's transgressions against his wife; she would be judged on her own merits. I thought she did well and she garnered my vote. I have to admit, I was mildly surprised when she didn't win the nomination but it wasn't that she did anything wrong, he was just that good. And, I was starting to understand what the buzz was all about.

Flash forward to 2008 and things begin to happen. In April, I found myself in Charleston, SC for my maternal grandmother's 80th birthday. She lived in New York but my aunt thought it would be good to make her birthday a centerpiece for a family reunion. For those who don't know, Charleston was the largest slave port in the United States. If you are African-American, your ancestors more than likely arrived there from Africa. It was wonderful seeing my cousins, aunts, and uncles again and the weather was fabulous but I will always remember this trip for the revelations I had. Four names stick out when I think about Charleston now: Heyward, Seabrook, Rivers, and Brown. These are some of the names that define Charleston. These were the names of plantation owners. These are the names of my family. I can't describe how weird it is to look at a map and see so many unique and personal words that translate history. Add to that, The City of Charleston still seemed segregated and this is not paranoia talking. It wasn't quite racism but the doctrine was still alive. If you look closely you'll see that there are a lot of Jim Crow southerners that are still alive there...and very wealthy. And we all know that wealth breeds influence. However, it was the younger people that surprised me because their attitude was...mildly condescending. Time spent in Columbia, SC, Wilmington, NC, and Waco, TX rounded out my refresher course in Confederate America but I did learn more about my family history this year to be shared later.

Before I knew it, it was summertime and I was doing something I love: cycling. But, one day in June stands out. I was riding the Loveland Bike Trail which spans dozens of miles in southeast Ohio and just happened to be at an intersection in Loveland itself when I crossed the road and thought I heard a man behind me yell, "Nigger!". I turned my head to see a man half out of his driver-side window staring at me. It was about noon and the area wasn't unpopulated. I thought I was hearing things until he drove to the top of an adjacent hill, stopped and did it again. This time I was looking right at him and I distinctly remember mouthing, "Enjoy your black president.", and continuing my ride. I'm no newcomer to racism and despite her 80 years, not even my grandmother had seen the Ku Klux Klan in person but, I have. Again, that's another story to be shared later.

Despite humoring myself at that man's expense I still wasn't quite sure if Mr. Obama was the real deal. Then, autumn came and the debates against John McCain happened. It would have been so easy for him to poke McCain and watch him implode on national television. Instead, Obama maintained his composure, dictated the pace, and articulated his answers while divulging his plans for America in detail.

I went to an election night party at a local bar with some friends and the patrons were in a lively mood. It turned into a game: every time they announced a state for McCain people would boo and they cheered when a state went blue. For the first time in a long time I was anxious. I don't remember exactly what time it was when CNN announced that he had won the presidency but it was earlier than I expected and strangely simple, just a few words at the bottom of the screen. When it happened I just sat down and cried. So many things came back in a rush. Laughing with my friends in junior high school about how there will never be a black president. My grandmother, who died in August and didn't live to see this. That day in Loveland. All of these things weren't driven by hate or bitterness. It was about identifying with something so meaningful that we could all share: the progress of America.

You know, I could've said that I always knew. Or, I'm voting for the 'brother'. Or, we have to do whatever it takes to keep McCain out but it just didn't happen that way. I needed him to win me over. In fact, I still do. But, you can count me as a member of the Obama bandwagon and like so many others, I will hold his feet to the fire to do what's right…for all of us.