What Obama's Victory Means to Me

"Since the beginning of our American history we have been engaged in change, in a perpetual, peaceful revolution"--FDR

Yesterday was the latest stage in that peaceful revolution. From Jefferson to Jackson to FDR to Reagan, the election of a new president has often ushered in a new era. For me, it is a privilege to be a part of President-elect Obama's revolution. There are moments in history which are only seen as pivotal in retrospect, and other moments that the historical actors know will have resounding importance. The election of Barack Obama is certainly one of the latter moments; the celebrations in the streets around the country and the world attest to that.

I had only a minor role in this peaceful revolution: a few hours here and there volunteering to help get out the vote during the primaries, register new voters, and arranging rides to the polls on election day. The funny thing about this revolution is that the thresh hold for participation seemed to be as simple as believing in Obama. Everybody I heard on their cell phones yesterday--including friends who weren't from the U.S. and couldn't vote here--was announcing, "We did it!"

We. The power of Us. Of the many, rather than the few. Of the hopeful, not the cynical. That is the source of Obama's power and why we expressed collective jubilation in the streets last night. He made us believe that we could make a difference, not just in individual lives but in the way we govern ourselves, the way we discuss politics, the way we conceive of race. That's why his victory is not just his own, or even African-Americans'.

This is only my second time voting for president, and I did not grow up in a time or a place where race or gender were obvious barriers to success. I grew up hearing that "anybody could be president," and it never disturbed me that all of our presidents had been white males. It was only a matter of time, I always felt. Yet I was surprised at the elation I felt yesterday after I pressed the button to vote for our first African-American president. I always knew the day would come, but the reality of it made me so happy I practically skipped down the street as I left the polls. I had voted for a man who might not have even been able to vote, much less run for president, when my parents were growing up.

This victory does not just mean that anybody can become president. It means that even in a country where there is still bigotry and hate, in a world riven by divisions of class and ethnicity and religion, there is space to halt and change paths. Where that path is going to lead we can't be sure. But for the first time I am more than just wishing for a change--I have seen that change and I have been part of it.

In violent revolutions, there is anger; in peaceful revolutions, there is hope. I cried tears of joy last night, and this morning I awoke to a new America.