I caught the speech at Berkeley's Sproul Hall on a jumbotron. Seeing it in a place that means so much to the development of my own political and personal identity, as well as a place with a storied history of change, activism, and service, was pretty great.
Obama's speech was really good, like, really really good. That man can fucking write. One of my favorite moments was the line about choosing our better history. It seems to me alot of the time that our country has two histories. On the one hand, we are a country of constant change, of the redemption of hope, of the validation of ambition. On the other hand, we are a nation with a sometimes shameful history of slavery, systematized discrimination, and increasing inequality. The latter history tempts me to become a cynic, and in the past 4 years I have many times succumbed to cynicism. But Obama's call is the one that brings out the best in all of us, to choose the first history. It's an eye-opening moment for me to experience a sense of sincerity about politics, about service, and about the American promise. It's an unprecedented emotion for me to get teary when I hear the star spangled banner. But it's also one of the best feelings ever. I've always loved this country, but there is a depth to my feelings that I have never allowed before, one that has finally pushed cynicism aside and makes me eager to move forward by choosing our better history.
The other line that really moved me, and that ties into the better history, is the mention of Obama's dad not being able to eat at some restaurants only 60 years ago. This inauguration is a profound thing for me to witness as a Hispanic. When I was younger, my dad would get a promotion every few years at his job with LA County Public Works. Every time I'd ask him "so are you gonna be director, be in charge?" He'd reply "no," and if I asked him enough about why he never would make it to the top, he'd admit, "they wouldn't hire a Colombian immigrant as director." This was a shattering sentiment. As a 5 or 8 or 12 year old, I thought my dad was the smartest man who could do anything he wanted. Yet he freely admitted that there was a limit to his own achievement. For minorites this country has always been a place of vast opportunity, but that opportunity always had a cieling, a limit. There was a line drawn in the sand and we couldn't cross it. To see that line increasingly diminished, and at such a significant level as the highest office in the country, is astounding and still brings me to tears. Our country proved my dad wrong. Our country proved my own thoughts wrong. I still think it's a silly thought to entertain a hope for a political career in my lifetime; I think it's wishful thinking, egostistical, etc etc. BUT, part of my thinking was always tied in to my ethnicity. I never thought, oh maybe one day I could be a senator or a governor, because I was a brown kid in a white world. For someone about to start a legal education and ultimately a career that *might* include public service, this is very very very very significant and endlessly inspirational.
Yes, he has substance. It helps that I agree with almost all of his policies. But I thought I would take a minute to address the immense symbolic significance of this for me.
This is a great day for our country
No comments:
Post a Comment