On Saturday, I watched the Obama Express wind its way to Washington, D.C. and I was excited… probably more excited that I was on the night of November 4 when Barack Obama won the American election. Now, two months later, it’s coming to fruition. Praise God.
I’m not an American. I tend to crack jokes on my southern neighbours, but I must say: I’m extremely proud of them for electing the first Black president — not because he is Black. No, if it were Jesse Jackson or Al Sharpton, the worldwide pride wouldn’t be there. My American brothers and sisters elected the person who was the best person for the job to be done.
Many times during the election campaign I had wanted to comment — but I couldn’t because the emotions were running too high. To comment on ‘terrorist fist jabs’, Marxism and socialist, sexism and racism in the election would have made me an angry, emotional Black woman. Everyone’s emotions were heightened — everything was a personal affront. What people were saying about Obama, they were saying about me because, in some strange way, Obama was an extention of me.
The day of the election — after two years of campaigning — I hoped that the people of the United States would do the right thing and that the Rethugs (hat tip to Jack & Jill Politics) wouldn’t steal the election. I thought it could happen — that Obama could win, but I didn’t want to believe it because I didn’t want to be disappointed if it didn’t happen. Thoughout the day, I was monitoring CNN.com and the Huffington Post to see what was going down. That evening, the husband and I were at two election parties as the results began coming in.
That night, just before 11 pm, when Obama won North Carolina, my mom called my cell. I was at a friend’s house with about eight other people who were just as caught up in the U.S. elections as I was. Mom was nervous — would he win?
“Check the numbers and the states left. He’s going to win California and Hawaii — this is done. Obama has won this–” Then I heard the screams, the tears, the whooping, the praising of God. CNN reported that Barack Obama would be the 44th American President.
African-Americans were crying and letting this accomplishment wash over them, but you know what? So were we. Black people (and people of all different backgrounds too) who weren’t Americans felt such enormous pride and happiness. We as a people — as Black people — felt like this was an accomplishment made by all of us. We all feel the pressure of who were are and our history and how people see us. We always knew we were capable — Obama showed the world that were are capable.
We were vindicated. Black people aren’t just criminals, ne’er-do-wells who can’t (or care not to) look after their responsibilities. We aren’t people who follow mindlessly to the latest fad or fashion. But we can and do lead. We do create and rear wonderful families. We are people who are gainfully employed and add value to our communities. As the NAACP’s Julian Bond said, African-American parents no longer have to lie to their children when they say ‘you can be anything you want.’
I am still a young person… relatively speaking. I never thought that in my lifetime that I would see a Black person become president — but I will.
President Obama, I wish you the best of luck and pray for protection for your wife, Michelle and you two girls, Malia and Sasha. I pray that you do what’s best for your country and as well as what’s best for the issues that involve the U.S. and the rest of the world. I pray for your safety, continued wisdom and that you remain humble, yet strong in your convictions.
January 20 will be a proud day for me — man, I only wish I was in Washington! I’m going to be at work, but my mind will be on the National Mall, at the inauguration, thinking about the possibilities of the next four or eight years.
Yes, you did, Mr. President and prayerfully, it will change the world for good.
Don’t get me wrong, there are some female singers out now that I have respect for like Jazmine Sullivan, Keyshia Cole, Jennifer Hudson and Beyoncé (yeah, I said it. I hate her album, but the girl can sing), but the rest of the girls out there couldn’t hold a stick next to Lauryn Hill. 1998’s The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill was an instant classic. I heard That Thing this week and it bumped like a new single. The only album to come close, in my humble opinion, is Jazmine Sullivan’s Fearless.
Baby Girl came out strong with Back and Forth in 1994. Her sophomore album One in a Million was just that and produced hit after hit after hit. Honestly, I wasn’t a huge Aaliyah fan, but I did appreciate her skills and her dance ability. If I had to put together a compilation of ’90s hits, If Your Girl Only Knew would have to be in it. Unfortunately, she passed away in 2001 before, I think, she reached her full potential.
No-no-notorious! You know I’m going to see the movie just now! But that’s beside the point. The Notorious B.I.G. and Tupac Shakur were the greatest rappers of the ’90s according to me. Both cut down too soon, they had everyone feeling their music. I don’t know anyone who doesn’t remember the video to One More Chance or can’t rap a couple of verses of California Love. Now, bare ignorance ended the lives of these young men, but not a soul can deny the talent of both these rappers.
Shai
I’m in a pretty bad mood. I can’t lie. My head’s hurting, it’s cold out and I’m feeling quite miserable. So when I stumbled across an 
