There's cheering in the street. Eight or nine people just ran by my window screaming "Yes we can!" at the top of their lungs. Doors open and close and heads lean out and yell at me, and tell me that history was made. And I quietly, enthusiastically, nod and smile, and tell them I agree.
I've never cared for politics. Four years ago, I didn't care. Eight years ago, I didn't care. Clinton was "a nice guy," to me. He played the saxophone. Bush was "a Republican." He had a pronounced Texan lilt, and I found that amusing. In a middle-school debate, I debated the Pro-Bush side in a political argument voluntarily, because I didn't care.
Tonight, Barack Obama became the President of these United States of America.
And it doesn't matter.
No, I don't mean it the way it sounds. It does. I mean, it doesn't matter than Barack Obama defeated John McCain in this election. It doesn't matter that the press has torn apart both candidates, and their every choice, their Vice-Presidential candidates, their in-party opponents, everything. It doesn't matter that this election has been a maelstrom of confused hatred and hope, one of the most heated and polarizing years America has seen in this century. It doesn't matter.
What matters is; a man was elected tonight who will lead this country. I don't know if he's going to lead it well. I've supported him; I've made my wager on him. But I can't tell you what will happen in four years. I could be a cynic, and say "He's not George Bush, of course he'll be good." I could be a jerk and say "He's not John McCain, he'll probably be good," I could be a Democrat and say "He's Barack Obama, he has to be good." Or, I can be an American, and say "He's an American, he'll do the best he can." Some of you don't like it. Some of my FRIENDS don't like it. Parts of me lose respect for the ones threatening to move to Canada, complaining of socialism. Parts of me says "Do you realize the hole we're in because of the distortion of your ideals?" But parts of me are dead wrong. I don't respect you any less. I don't want you to stop respecting me. I don't want the love I have for you or the love you have for me to change in any way. Why should it? What did we really want in this election? A black President? An Alaskan female VP? A veteran? A maverick? A messiah? What?
We wanted a better America for ourselves. And now, we must find a way to make the America we want and the America our "opponents" want the same. It's impossible, of course. But if it happened, we'd have perfection. And there's nothing like perfection to sow the seeds of monotony. We can't have a utopia. But trying to get there, well, that's the fun part.
You're my brothers and sisters. Tomorrow, the petty life will return, and I'll hear someone talk about how so-and-so is flirting with so-and-so, and how Whatshisname hit on Whosherface even though she has a boyfriend, and I'll just be part of society. But in the eyes of this country, we're all related. If McCain won, I joked that I would move. I even joked, once, in bad taste, that I might kill myself (only after hearing the joke made by another). I'm embarrassed that I ever even let my imagination consider it. This is my country, and yours, not McCain's, not Obama's. We had to make a choice. We are United. We'll stand by the choice.
Shakespeare said it best. We set our lives upon a cast, and we will stand the hazard of the die.
Now I can hear "America the Beautiful" blaring from somebody's window. I mean it. I can just hear it. It's never been more true. I never thought I could make a difference like this. And, I suppose, in the cosmic or technical sense, I didn't make much. But still. This is such a beautiful country tonight. The stars shine brighter in the darkness, and, even though I know there is bitterness and confusion and trepidation, some well-founded, all I hear is the joy. All I see is the hope. And I'm part of it, and you are.
I'm a sentimental person on a few occasions. Tonight, I swear, I mean it all. Friends, countrymen, and lovers; remember who you are. This was a night for Americans, and the next four years will be, no matter what, an American four years. I will wear my hopes on my sleeve, and tell you all that I don't care anymore. The election's over. The party lines must be blurred. A house divided cannot stand. We have to look at each other like people. I want to wake up in the morning and look around and see Americans. And I know I will.
I can't wait for the sunrise.