The Beginning
Nov. 5th, 2008 09:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
unforthThis morning, I realized that I should have entitled the post I made last night about McCain conceding "the beginning," not "the end." For really, the campaign and the election is only a precursor. Soon, the real work begins. And while I can't imagine it'll match our hopes and dreams, I don't think it has to - whatever it accomplishes, though, will still be worth it.
I remember the first time I heard the name "Barack Obama." It was during the 2004 presidential election coverage; the news was talking about how the heavily watched and fiercely contested race in Illinois was going, and that it looked like the upstart (or some similar expression) was going to win. It has to be understood that the last election came in my final semester of undergrad, in fall of 2004. I had been pretty negligent about following the news even in normal conditions in college, but that semester was pretty much the hardest of my entire life - I was working a drone job for 20 - 30 hours a week, I was in four classes that met the five requirements still necessary for me to graduate, and due to some mid-college crises, I was desperate to pull my GPA up, and so I aimed for all A's, while I was preparing and submitting 7 graduate school applications, and still trying to maintain a very active social life (the piece that I eventually had to lose, understandably). It was also the first presidential election I was able to vote in - to my massive frustration, I missed the 2000 election by one month (I turned 18 in December of 2000) - and thought it a huge injustice that I was in college but I couldn't vote. And so I was sitting at Mill St, and watching it all go down in flames, and listening to Kreiner comment that it really would all go down in flames - that Bush's win marked the end of democracy as we knew it. (I didn't agree, but he was very adamant - he told BT that it would be up to him to lead the revolution, and he meant it).
At that time, when we Democrats despaired, the news held forth Barack Obama as a symbol of hope - if this man can still become a first time senator, an African American senator, with his experience, in a state which is only really considered liberal in Chicago, than there is still hope for the direction our country is going. It was a straw, and many of us grasped it.
I was sickened by how early the campaigning started for the 2008 election. There was a government to run, why were these senators and governors spending TWO YEARS campaigning? But as the races shaped up, I saw two things - one that made me very unhappy, and one that made me happy - first, that Hillary Clinton was running. I have been given to say that I hate Hillary Clinton. This isn't really true, though. I think she is very intelligent and a capable, that she made a fine first lady, and that she'd probably be an excellent president (in the Clinton years, we all used to joke that she was the president, that Bill was just a face...). However, I do HATE that she moved to New York to advance her political career, because she knew she'd be elected senator here if she ran. I resent that she used my home state as her political stepping stone, and I think it shows a kind of calculation and politicking that I don't find genuine. On the other hand, I saw that John McCain was running for the Republican ticket. I was raised Democrat, and while I always look at both candidates, I can't agree with the Republican social agenda, and so I've never seriously considered voting for a Republican candidate, but I liked McCain in the 2000 election. I'd no intention of voting for him - in a head-to-head race between Clinton and McCain, I'd have voted for Clinton even though I don't like her much - but I thought he had integrity, honor, and care for the middle and lower classes that exemplified him from his peers, and I hoped he got his parties nomination.
Then Barack Obama got involved in the mix. And I knew it was time that I find out more about him. I listened to a lot of his speeches, and I got an increasingly good feeling for the guy. He was genuine. He says things I agree with. He says things I don't agree with. And that's okay, because he was always able to make me feel like he had considered the alternatives before making his choice, but that once made he would still be willing to reconsider. A man of convictions, but not one who feels the need to impose those convictions on others. By the time January came around, I knew he had my vote, even though it was clearly futile - as a resident of Hillary's home state, a vote not for her was pretty much meaningless.
But the early reports were promising. Of course Hillary was still going to win, but Obama had done better than expected. Maybe, just maybe, there was a shot. I did some research, and February 5th rolled around, and I cast my vote on Super Tuesday. I watched the news all evening, too - and watched as Obama did better than anyone had dreamed (though, as expected, Hillary took NY easily).
Not long afterwards, I picked up a copy of "The Audacity of Hope," and any doubts in my mind about my chosen candidate went away. Here was a man who was intelligent, erudite, educated, patriotic, and who said many of the things that I believed in simple and clear terms. It made me so happy, and for the first time in my life I felt proud that I had voted for someone, proud of my candidate. And it looked like the country agreed.
For my personal story, though, there was a hitch - in April, I received a letter from the Board of Elections. I hadn't registered soon enough before the primary, and my vote hadn't been counted. The letter acknowledged that I HAD registered before the primary, but there was some unknown cut off date prior. I was furious. What was the point of voting if they weren't even gonna count your vote? Maybe Indiana would still let me vote? But no - from Indiana's point of view, I had left that state and my voting rights behind the previous August. And I hadn't thought to register to vote while I was spending four months during a non-election year in Japan. I remember thinking that maybe I wouldn't even bother to vote at all - but I knew that I didn't really mean that.
Yesterday morning, at 9:45 AM, I cast my vote for Barack Obama after a wait of less than 10 minutes. The previous day, I had researched the other people and measures on my ballot, and so I knew what I was doing when I then cast my votes in the other races - all for Democrats, two of whom were uncontested - and for the Ballot Measure in NY - deemed so meaningless that I can't find data on it's results or an acknowledgment of it's existence anywhere (it related to the rights of disabled veterans). And I watched the results come in, from 4:30 PM until 12:30 AM, waiting, hoping, afraid to hope, watched as Indiana teetered back and forth (CNN still hasn't called it for Obama, but other places have), infinitely refreshing maps of Virginia, North Carolina, Florida, Ohio, Pennsylvania, the places that mattered where my state didn't, because NY forms the core of the Democrat's constituency, not it's periphery...
Last night, history was made - and we started down the beginning of a new path. Where it will lead, I don't know - it could end in glory or disaster, tragically short or for years to come - but no matter which way it tends, we can be certain that the United States of America will never be quite the same as it was before. And, finally, because it can move me to tears in the best of times and the worst of times, it's always the right time to re-read the Gettysburg Address. Try reading it aloud if you've never done so...
"Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
"Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation, so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
"But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate—we can not consecrate—we can not hallow—this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth." (Abraham Lincoln, November 19th, 1863)
I remember the first time I heard the name "Barack Obama." It was during the 2004 presidential election coverage; the news was talking about how the heavily watched and fiercely contested race in Illinois was going, and that it looked like the upstart (or some similar expression) was going to win. It has to be understood that the last election came in my final semester of undergrad, in fall of 2004. I had been pretty negligent about following the news even in normal conditions in college, but that semester was pretty much the hardest of my entire life - I was working a drone job for 20 - 30 hours a week, I was in four classes that met the five requirements still necessary for me to graduate, and due to some mid-college crises, I was desperate to pull my GPA up, and so I aimed for all A's, while I was preparing and submitting 7 graduate school applications, and still trying to maintain a very active social life (the piece that I eventually had to lose, understandably). It was also the first presidential election I was able to vote in - to my massive frustration, I missed the 2000 election by one month (I turned 18 in December of 2000) - and thought it a huge injustice that I was in college but I couldn't vote. And so I was sitting at Mill St, and watching it all go down in flames, and listening to Kreiner comment that it really would all go down in flames - that Bush's win marked the end of democracy as we knew it. (I didn't agree, but he was very adamant - he told BT that it would be up to him to lead the revolution, and he meant it).
At that time, when we Democrats despaired, the news held forth Barack Obama as a symbol of hope - if this man can still become a first time senator, an African American senator, with his experience, in a state which is only really considered liberal in Chicago, than there is still hope for the direction our country is going. It was a straw, and many of us grasped it.
I was sickened by how early the campaigning started for the 2008 election. There was a government to run, why were these senators and governors spending TWO YEARS campaigning? But as the races shaped up, I saw two things - one that made me very unhappy, and one that made me happy - first, that Hillary Clinton was running. I have been given to say that I hate Hillary Clinton. This isn't really true, though. I think she is very intelligent and a capable, that she made a fine first lady, and that she'd probably be an excellent president (in the Clinton years, we all used to joke that she was the president, that Bill was just a face...). However, I do HATE that she moved to New York to advance her political career, because she knew she'd be elected senator here if she ran. I resent that she used my home state as her political stepping stone, and I think it shows a kind of calculation and politicking that I don't find genuine. On the other hand, I saw that John McCain was running for the Republican ticket. I was raised Democrat, and while I always look at both candidates, I can't agree with the Republican social agenda, and so I've never seriously considered voting for a Republican candidate, but I liked McCain in the 2000 election. I'd no intention of voting for him - in a head-to-head race between Clinton and McCain, I'd have voted for Clinton even though I don't like her much - but I thought he had integrity, honor, and care for the middle and lower classes that exemplified him from his peers, and I hoped he got his parties nomination.
Then Barack Obama got involved in the mix. And I knew it was time that I find out more about him. I listened to a lot of his speeches, and I got an increasingly good feeling for the guy. He was genuine. He says things I agree with. He says things I don't agree with. And that's okay, because he was always able to make me feel like he had considered the alternatives before making his choice, but that once made he would still be willing to reconsider. A man of convictions, but not one who feels the need to impose those convictions on others. By the time January came around, I knew he had my vote, even though it was clearly futile - as a resident of Hillary's home state, a vote not for her was pretty much meaningless.
But the early reports were promising. Of course Hillary was still going to win, but Obama had done better than expected. Maybe, just maybe, there was a shot. I did some research, and February 5th rolled around, and I cast my vote on Super Tuesday. I watched the news all evening, too - and watched as Obama did better than anyone had dreamed (though, as expected, Hillary took NY easily).
Not long afterwards, I picked up a copy of "The Audacity of Hope," and any doubts in my mind about my chosen candidate went away. Here was a man who was intelligent, erudite, educated, patriotic, and who said many of the things that I believed in simple and clear terms. It made me so happy, and for the first time in my life I felt proud that I had voted for someone, proud of my candidate. And it looked like the country agreed.
For my personal story, though, there was a hitch - in April, I received a letter from the Board of Elections. I hadn't registered soon enough before the primary, and my vote hadn't been counted. The letter acknowledged that I HAD registered before the primary, but there was some unknown cut off date prior. I was furious. What was the point of voting if they weren't even gonna count your vote? Maybe Indiana would still let me vote? But no - from Indiana's point of view, I had left that state and my voting rights behind the previous August. And I hadn't thought to register to vote while I was spending four months during a non-election year in Japan. I remember thinking that maybe I wouldn't even bother to vote at all - but I knew that I didn't really mean that.
Yesterday morning, at 9:45 AM, I cast my vote for Barack Obama after a wait of less than 10 minutes. The previous day, I had researched the other people and measures on my ballot, and so I knew what I was doing when I then cast my votes in the other races - all for Democrats, two of whom were uncontested - and for the Ballot Measure in NY - deemed so meaningless that I can't find data on it's results or an acknowledgment of it's existence anywhere (it related to the rights of disabled veterans). And I watched the results come in, from 4:30 PM until 12:30 AM, waiting, hoping, afraid to hope, watched as Indiana teetered back and forth (CNN still hasn't called it for Obama, but other places have), infinitely refreshing maps of Virginia, North Carolina, Florida, Ohio, Pennsylvania, the places that mattered where my state didn't, because NY forms the core of the Democrat's constituency, not it's periphery...
Last night, history was made - and we started down the beginning of a new path. Where it will lead, I don't know - it could end in glory or disaster, tragically short or for years to come - but no matter which way it tends, we can be certain that the United States of America will never be quite the same as it was before. And, finally, because it can move me to tears in the best of times and the worst of times, it's always the right time to re-read the Gettysburg Address. Try reading it aloud if you've never done so...
"Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
"Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation, so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
"But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate—we can not consecrate—we can not hallow—this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth." (Abraham Lincoln, November 19th, 1863)
