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Obama, November 4th, 2008
Stevie Wonder singing Village Ghetto Land, dreams of ballots punched and stacked and tales of six hour waits, and lines of people standing, shuffling, hands in pockets, moving, not complaining, quietly reflecting, memories of the baton and the gun, the burning cross and official-looking signs: ‘Whites Only’, ‘Blacks Only’, over wash-basins, seats in buses, cafes, outside schools and churches, proclamations of a self-affirming super-race uneducated in the matter of the soul, unheeding of the pain inflicted, and the cries, until indignity and dignity as concepts grew, acquired dimensions and a face, a sound, a dream, a word against a blow, a word that deconstructed blows, left bare the stupidity of generations with simple honesty and truthfulness devoid of bitterness and rage– generosity is written into the features of Obama’s face –he smiles easily, broadly, smiling for a nation, and a way of life that crosses nations, races, peoples, into one– the people wait in line, because others died to make this happen, hands in pockets against the early November chill, as hearts are warming, thawing out from their long deep frozen state into a possibility, into a harmony, a rhythm building, growing, learning once again– and Stevie Wonder’s singing of tomorrow and that tomorrow finally is today.
Martin Connolly
I wrote this on the train on that day, going up into Tokyo, just hours before I actually heard the election result.
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