“I always felt like an American.  I finally felt like I can put my suitcase down.”

– Whoopi Goldberg

I’ve been trying to put into words the feelings of elation, relief, and hope and, yes, even sadness at 8:03 p.m. on November 4^th, 2008 when Barack Obama was declared the President Elect of the United States of America. 

In the two days since the clouds parted, golden rays of sun shone through and school children raised their voices in song, I cannot tell you how many men I have heard say “I almost cried.”

 Almost cried?  Almost?  Almost?! For the record, I wept like a baby.  Those feelings of elation, relief, hope and sadness?  All streaming down my face. 

I have supported Barack Obama’s candidacy from the beginning, much to the chagrin of my 83-year-old Hillary supporter mom (don’t worry she got over it and voted true to her Democratic roots).  His audacity of hope made me audacious enough to hope.  His unflappable, confident being with an ounce of humility made me believe he could go the distance.  His heritage and race made me excited at the possibility of a new perspective and making history. 

But his race did not define his campaign.  Barack rarely talked about his race .  He only talked about race when it was evident Rev. Wright was not going away.  So he talked abut race.  Correction:  He eloquently talked about race.  He summed up past, present and future fears, obstacles, and wounds created by race in America in 500 words or less, and received an A+.  My McCain worshipping brother-in-law identifies Obama’s speech on race the pivotal turning point in his political allegiance.  And then Barack woke up the next day and went back to campaigning as a multi-cultural man who had a lot of hope. 

So when Barack Obama was declared President Elect minutes after the California polls closed, just to make us Californians feel sort of significant, I was broadsided by the Black journalists and commentators – Democrat and Republican alike – welling up.  Weeping.  Talking about how their mothers and fathers never thought they would see the day.  Talking about how THEY never thought they would see the day.  Talking about Lincoln and the emancipation proclamation, Rosa Parks and the bus, MLK and his dreams.  Talking about the similar feelings they had when we elected an Irish Catholic in 1962.  Talking about the voters rights act of 1965.  Talking about the message of possibility THIS momentous occasion in history sends to their children. Sends to all children.  Black men can be anything.  They can be President of the United States, one of the most powerful countries in the world.  Take that racism!

And that’s when I began to weep.  Weep in that ugly, I can’t talk, I’m beside myself way.  My tears of elation were for healthcare, the economy, and organized communities of hope across the country.  But my tears of sadness were for the years of oppression, racism, and division our country has endured.  Tears of apology, and yes, guilt, no matter how useless, for the tears I saw pour from black peoples faces across America and throughout the world. 

For a half hour this win seemed to be only about race.  A win for equality, for unity, for the audacity of hope.  Senator McCain’s acceptance speech underscored this so beautifully by taking in the historic moment with us.  The moment was not lost on Senator McCain, even in his darkest hour.

Then Barack Obama took the stage as the President Elect and gave a proud, yet somber acceptance speech.  He looked to the long road ahead.  He paid thanks to his campaign staff and family.  He talked about hope again.  Maybe he meant hope for black people, but more likely hope for all, for this is Barack Obama, the transformational leader, the community organizer.  We were reminded once again that this was not about race to Barack Obama, though that may be the icing on the cake for the rest of us.  Once again it’s about the audacity of hope.  Now let’s get down to business.

I wrote this Letter to the Editor to my small town newspaper.  This was my response to the amazing numbers of “Yes on 8″ signs that sprung up in my neighborhood seemingly overnight a few weeks back. 

If you don’t live in California, Proposition 8 bans same sex marriage.  The California Supreme Court ruled that same sex marriage was legal in June 2008.  Prop 8 hopes to overturn this.  Here is my letter:

Dear Editor:

Ideally Proposition 8 is a logical decision.  Either you support or oppose equal rights for all.  But I want to acknowledge – perhaps fool hardily, because I may be driven out of town on the next wine train – the passion that Proposition 8 is stirring in California and in our own small community. 

The emotions and fears are evident when friends ask me:  “I don’t mind gays, but what do you tell your kids?  Would you want your kids to see that?”

I can only imagine my own relatives in the deep south in the 1960’s saying similar things about the imagine of my husband and I, two individuals who decided to build a marriage and a family based on values of respect and love.  You see, I was born in 1964 in a small mid-western town.  This same year my husband was playing in a sandbox half a world away.  Because we are from different races, it was against the law for us to marry until the Supreme Court ruled in favor of interracial marriage in 1967 in Loving vs. Virginia.  I feel fortunate to live during a time in history when I can choose who I want to marry and a part of a country that is inclusive and accepting.  Our friends, children, and grandchildren should not have to wait decades or even years to obtain the same rights or a message of inclusivity.

What do I tell my kids?  I have three kids under 8 and what I tell them is when people are old enough to make smart decisions they choose who they want to marry.  Hopefully, they choose someone who respects and loves them.  And if they choose to have a family the respect and love is handed down to the next generation.  Respect and Love.  That’s what I hopefully model for my children. 

I don’t want to alarm anyone, but gay families are part of our community, some out, some with a foot still stuck in a few hangers in the closet (I don’t blame them).  No proposition will put your fear to rest or push whole families into an already crowded closet.  Just as the states attempts to abolish interracial marriage would not have kept thousands of mixed-race couples from being together. These laws only harm individuals and families but they do not stop them from being formed.

I have two kids in the public school system and I have never heard my child talk about “today during our lesson on marriage.”  As parents, the ball is in our court.  It is our choice to educate our kids about our values – whatever they may be.  But by all means, do not deny hard-working, loving families the same rights to tax benefits, hospital visitation, etc. as you enjoy.  This hurts our community.  I ask you to support families in our community by voting for equal rights for all.  Because all families deserve the same rights and privileges.  NO ON 8. 

Shelley