Obamaland becomes America

My adventure's in Obamaland didn't quite go as planned; when I told my mother I was going to stay home and "do" the big moment with her, she promptly told me that I should go to the viewing party that my political party - the Interior Democrats (Alaska) were planning. Even when I explained that it was just a gathering being hosted by a fellow district chair, in a red-neck-y restaurant/sports bar, she repeated - firmly - that I should go.

It took awhile for me to realize she wanted me there to represent our family.

Needless to say, when the alarm clock went off at 6 am on Tuesday, 20 January 2009 - I was not a happy camper. Especially since I had less than four hours of sleep. But - clean undies, coat, hat, boots - later I arrived to see two guys hanging out. I introduced myself to the clean cut one and on a big screen we watched the motorcade pull up. A waitress then asked if we were there for "the party" and if so, we were in the wrong place. So I grabbed my cup of joe, lumbered up some steps and plopped down in front of an even larger screen, joining a couple more women. As time moved closer and closer to "IT" a few more people trickled in, about half of whom I knew and about half of those I knew very well.

I was doing ok, chatting a little, mostly watching the proceedings, until Rick Warren - the bigoted preacher of some megachurch - started his prayer. As he was going on, and on, and on about unity and equality or whatever the hell he was yammering about, I could feel myself getting annoyed until I finally muttered: "yeah, unless you're gay." I started to apologize to those in ear-shot, but then realized I didn't have too, that I was among "family.".

It was at that point I relaxed and started just to take it all in: the glorious splendor of Sister Aretha in that serious church hat, Yo Yo Ma and Company looking just as cute as could be, the poem that did not suck, Sen. Feinstein clearly having the time of her life, Chief Justice Roberts fucking up, and "IT." The lifting of the hand, the taking of the oath of office.

And there he was, President.

When my paternal grandfather died, we found in his possession his poll tax receipts. He was a man with a Master's Degree in History, and yet he had to pay a bunch of peckerwoods year, after year, after year, for his Constitutional right to vote.

When my mother was little, they had an elderly relative live with them who had been born into slavery.

Across the street from my paternal grandmother's house was a tree where Black men were lynched. My dad pointed it out to me one day.

For several years my father served on the Fairbanks Civil Rights Committee along with Frank Peratrovich, the son of the late, great Elizabeth Peratrovich.

When I was 8 I got chased through the streets of this town by two older white boys who spat on me while calling me "nigger." My mother, instead of comforting me and drying my tears, told me a story about taking a lead pipe to the head of a young boy who had harassed her when she was little. Message received.

And now this.

And more glorious than his speech was the view of the Mall, crammed full back to the Lincoln Memorial, of people who just had to be there to see this for themselves. Every version and variation of American. Crying, yelling, holding strangers' hands and rejoicing.

It was wonderful.

And Rev.Lowery more than made up for that twit Warren. Few folks outside of the Black community knew the true meaning of his speech; the beginning -

God of our weary years, God of our silent tears, thou, who has brought us thus far along the way, thou, who has by thy might led us into the light, keep us forever in the path we pray, lest our feet stray from the places, our God, where we met thee, lest our hearts drunk with the wine of the world, we forget thee.

- is actually the third stanza of the Negro National Anthem, "Lift Every Voice and Sing." When I was a kid, my Mother made sure that I knew three national anthems: the U.S., the Canadian, and the Negro. Thank you, Mom!

And that bit at the end of Rev. Lowery's prayer:

Lord, in the memory of all the saints who from their labors rest, and in the joy of a new beginning, we ask you to help us work for that day when black will not be asked to get in back, when brown can stick around ... when yellow will be mellow ... when the red man can get ahead, man; and when white will embrace what is right.

- is based on this, a rhyme I learned when I was little:

If you're black, get back. If you're brown, stick around, if you're white, you're alright.

There's a good blog about this over on the Daily Kos titled: "If You's Black? Brother, Get Back."

Apparently there are a bunch of white folks out there looking for reasons to be aggrieved at Rev. Lowery; to my ears he was wonderful, and right.

And right for the occasion.

And as our esteemed Elder Lowery said:

Let all those who do justice and love mercy say amen.

AUDIENCE: Amen!

REV. LOWERY: Say amen --

AUDIENCE: Amen!

REV. LOWERY: -- and amen.

AUDIENCE: Amen!

On behalf of all those who have gone before, including my Irish Great-Great Grandfather O'Connor:

Amen.

Update: When I was writing this I didn't realize that I was having problems getting the links to stick. So I'm listing them again, just in case the tech gods still hate me.

Daily Kps: "If You's Black? Brother, Get Back:" http://www.dailykos.com/story/2009/1/22/23850/0001

"Lift Every Voice and Sing:" http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Negro_National_Anthem


Elizabeth Peratrovich: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elizabeth_Peratrovich