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View Diary: I sat on my couch and cried (130 comments)

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  •  I remember crying (7+ / 0-)

    For all of my life there was the hope that one day an African-American would ascend to the highest office in the land.
    I hoped, I prayed, but in my heart of hearts, i believed that the joy of that day would be given to those who came long after my time on earth had passed.
    I was even wary of becoming too excited when Mr. Obama won the nomination, having seen the lengths that the powerful would go to in order to retain control of the reins of power in our government.
    I became cautiously optimistic during the campaign and then allowed myself to become emotionally invested in the outcome to the degree that when the vote was announced, I, too cried.
    I cried, remembering the hours that my mother worked canvassing our neighbors in Cleveland, urging them to exercise the precious right fought for by so many of our forebears, friends and family---sit-ins, bus boycotts, picket lines.
    I remember her, getting up early on election day, going to work the polls, coming home exhausted but filled with a sense of purpose and participation.
    That was the context informing my heartfelt tears that night.
    While the unbridled hope of that moment has crashed headlong into the obstinacy and intransigence of those dedicated and determined that this presidency and this president must fail, that hope remains.
    A hope that this good man will be seen as not only the first African-American president but one of the hardest working and most gifted to have served our nation.
    A reminder of how the world shifted on that November night will steel us for the work necessary to not only return President Obama to the presidency but provide enough members of Congress to actually get some work done for the people of this great nation.

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