Dear Kossacks,
I have been reading and posting at this site for quite some time, now, ever since it became clear to me that (1) the progressive Democrats here were serious about bringing democracy back to our country and (2) Republicans had gone insane, hamster-style. Since 2003, I've phonebanked, donated, canvassed, and signed petitions on behalf of many progressive candidates because I sincerely believe that the only way forward for our country is to kick the crazy Republicans out of power, and elect enough better Democrats who will uphold the Constitution, and America's democratic values.
Because I am a black female, many people automatically assume that I am voting for Obama, because of our shared racial identity. (I know, I know: Obama is bi-racial, and I am happy to identify him as such. But by the visual standards of human society, Obama is a black man.) I am voting for Obama first because he is a Democrat, second because of his message of change. But in my diary today, I would like to address the special meaning to me, of casting a vote for Obama for President.
First, some background. My family history is a quintessential American story. Both of my parents were born in the deep South, during the Jim Crow era, and went to segregated schools supplied with outdated textbooks that were cast-offs from the white schools. My grandparents were farmers, and none of them completed more than 8 years of schooling. The stories of slavery and its aftermath, which I learned in history class like everyone else, are stories that in my family have been passed down from one generation to the next as part of our oral history. Branding, lynching, trying to "pass" as white, riding in the back of the bus, attacks by the KKK and the like: these are things that happened to my family, some still in living memory.
Despite the odds, both of my parents went to college and left the South, and provided their children with a safe, middle class upbringing. While I was aware of the challenges they'd faced, I was never once made to feel like there were barriers to my success, and I was never raised to fear or feel resentment of whites. As a little girl, I understood that some people might not like me because of the way I looked. I also understood that those people were wrong, and that I should never conduct myself to try and appease them. The message I got from my parents was that I could, and should, be anything I wanted.
I have since gone on to become a scientist, getting a PhD from Harvard, and the day of my commencement was not just a personal triumph for me. That day was the realization of the dreams that allowed my ancestors to learn to read, even though such knowledge was illegal and punishable by death. It was a confirmation to my parents that the America they wanted, the America they dreamed of, was finally coming to be. How do I know? My dad, a career Navy man, has cried twice in his adult life. Once at his father's funeral, and once at my Harvard graduation.
Against that backdrop, then, I would like to say that it is impossible to overstate the joy in my family that a black man could become President in their lifetime. The changes my parents and grandparents have seen in their lifetime are far-ranging, and pretty extraordinary already. But to turn on the TV and see a black man stand at the podium and accept the Democratic nomination for President has changed their lives forever.
Do not doubt, netroots: what we have done has already changed the world.