Proud

2000 was the first election I was eligible to vote in; I remember sitting in the lounge in my dorm, an 18 year old freshman, talking about the election. We all were Gore supporters, saying we would move to Canada should Bush become elected. I was a democrat, as were my parents, I liked Clinton but politics really weren’t my thing. I don’t remember election night; I certainly wasn’t as passionate about the election and definitely didn’t sit up all night waiting for results. (Which was a good thing since it took so long to find out who was president.) I remember how angry I was when Bush was announced as president, how could the US elect into office this monkey brained man?

But as everything goes, the anger subsided and life went on. Then September 11th happened and the whole country was in turmoil. I was so proud of my country at that moment, everyone had banded together and it didn’t matter if you were republican or democrat, black or white. We were all americans and damnit we were proud to be so. When the war in Iraq began, my friend Sarah with an H blasted “Bombs Over Baghdad” by Outkast and we sat in silence watching the green bombs flash on the screen. That was the end for me, the last time I would feel such pride in my country of origin.

2004 I remember more starkly. I had sent in my ballot for John Kerry and had gone to bed when it looked like it wouldn’t be called that night. I had once again proclaimed that should Bush win AGAIN, I would move to Canada. The next day I stood in Rockefellar center, watching the states turn red on the large screen over the skating rink. I couldn’t believe my eyes, I watched all my hope that America could turn itself around crumble into oblivion. It was clear to me Bush was once again giong to win and I walked all the way from 51st to 27th, extremely disappointed in my country, losing all faith.

But again, things went back to normal. Bush continued to fuck up this country but there wasn’t anything I could do. Then I started traveling abroad in 2006 and for the first time, I didn’t like the stigma attached to being American. I would have to pretend to be Canadian to get student discounts, I’d have to pretend so that I wouldn’t be kicked out of a car at 2am after having to hitchhike in the rain. I was harrassed on a bus in Ireland of all places by an old man who hated Americans with such a passion that he had to talk to me for twenty minutes about this hatred. It was then I realized just how badly the rest of the world viewed Americans and the anger I felt towards George W Bush increased even more.

I have mentioned this happened again in Germany, only this time I was treated with such disrespect I couldn’t even contain my shock and walked out of a restaurant, something I haven’t even done here when receiving shotty service.

Then theres 2008. I followed the primaries religiously, both Democratic and Republican. I initially went for Hillary, I rooted for her from the beginning. But then she lost and I turned my attention to the other candidate who I had also admired, Barack Obama. After listening to speeches, reading his book and learning where he stood on issues, I was a staunch supporter. I became passionate about politics in a way I never had before.

It all culminated in last night. I turned on the TV as soon as I got home, popped open a bottle of champagne to calm my nerves and sat in front of the TV. I anxiously waited, praying like I’ve never prayed before that this was the night. Around the time they announced Obama won Ohio and New Mexico I got excited. A little flutter of optimism. I got out my calculator and my college electoral map and did the math to see how many more states he would have to win in order to clench the win.

It wasn’t many.

I started bouncing around the apartment, barely containing myself. But I was still skeptical, even at 10:30 when my mother IMed me to say that he was going to win, I denied it. I won’t feel comfortable until there is at least a 270 beside his name.

At 10:50 the local news came on, showing pictures from Harlem, Rockefellar Center and Midtown. Everyone was excited. At 10:59 they abruptly changed back to the national coverage and sitting on the screen was Obama’s face, The 44th President written across it.

I looked at my new roommate, is this for real?

It took me 5 minutes to realize that this was it, he was our president. And I cried. While dancing around my apartment. McCain then announced his concession and delivered a beautiful speech, once again bringing me to tears. It was probably the best speech of his entire campaign. It was the real McCain, the McCain we saw in the primaries, the McCain I actually liked and admired and rooted for to win the nomination of the Republican party. I think if he had delivered this speech a week ago, the race would have been much tighter.

I can’t even describe the elation I felt last night, am still experiencing. Happy doesn’t do it justice, excited doesn’t even come close. It was a mixture of happiness, relief, raw excitement and most importantly, pride. This was my country and we did it. We did something I didn’t think I’d see for a long time. We finally did something, we finally changed what we didn’t like. I am so proud of being an American today, I’m so proud of the fact that voter turnout was at record-setting numbers, that people didn’t just sit idly back and let things happen. I’m not just talking about Obama supporters/Democrats. I’m talking about EVERYONE.

As Obama gave his speech I was overcome with such pride, so much emotion. Seeing the shots of all the people around the country who were in such shock that he actually did it, who were so overcome with emotion. I let out even more tears as he stood up there on the stage, looking himself in shock, and thought this is history, baby.

Yes We Can, became YES. WE. DID.

Congratulations President Barack Obama and thank you for getting me passionate about this country of mine.