When Senator Obama surpassed the 270 electoral vote mark, I shed a tear. There were tears of joy, jubilation, exuberance . . . of love. I cried as I thought about my father, my oldest brother and youngest sister, my two nephews I grew up with, my grandparents and all of my relatives and friends who were smiling from Up Above. I wished so much that they could have been here to witness and share this moment with loved ones. I thanked God that my Moms was still living to see this historical day. I cried last night . . .
I shed a tear because the Revolution was finally televised. And it was beautiful! It embraced Blacks, Whites, Hispanics, Asians, Africans, young, old, various lifestyles, etc . . . it embraced America, the diversity of a country. I cried as the world celebrated and realized that America had turned a corner. The Revolution was televised!
I cried for every Black parent who had ever told their son(s) or daughter(s) that they could be anything they wanted to be. It was encouragement. My father and mother were two of those parents. I have known many others and often wonder, did they really believe that. I, like so many of us, saw my parents bust their butts to just put food on our table and keep a roof over our heads. I remember my mother working two or three jobs, cleaning houses and toilets, and still raising ten kids. But they kept encouraging, they kept believing. That encouragement has a face today. I cried last night . . .
I cried as I thought about August 28, 1963. The day Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., said from the Mall on Washington that he had a dream! And that dream arrived on November 4, 2008. My thoughts go to April 3, 1968 when I listen to the radio with my mother. It was Dr. King’s “I’ve Been to the Mountaintop” speech. I can visualize last night with him, Coretta, Malcolm X, A. Phillip Randolph and many others, including Barack’s mother and grandparents, looking down from the Promised Land with an approving and effervescent smile on their faces and a tear in their eye. Yeah Martin, you reached and brought us to the Promised Land. I cried for April 4, 1968, when Dr. King died for a people. How he and many others must be so proud today.
I cried last night for Jesse Jackson. His tears were real and tears of happiness, tears of memories not forgotten. Many may disagree, but last night Jesse Jackson came home. He knew he was one of the many conduits to last night’s moment.
I cried last night as I looked at the college kids at Howard University and Spelman. They screamed, yelled and cried . . . and on all of their faces, I saw “Hope and Determination” and not despair or gloom. I saw the future! I saw my kids one day making a difference!
I cried last night . . . for American, for History, for Change, for A Better Day!
I cried last night . . .