Here’s some last minute serendipity: United Airlines added
additional flights into Dulles at the exact moment that I determined that I
needed to be on the National Mall for Barack Obama’s inauguration as the 44th
POTUS.
My father laughed and said that this is the first time that
the actual residents of DC have come out to participate in an
inauguration. His words seemed to be
true. The streets and sidewalks close to
my friend’s flat near Howard University were thick with people even at 3:00am.
I had heard that the bars across the city were open 24 hours to celebrate the
occasion. The U Street corridor was
alive and incredible, best described as a pan African version of the parking
lot at a Dead show. For me, the blend of
the intellectual, artistic and literary scenes was just as seamless and
intoxicating as the sides of collard greens, injera bread, jerk chicken and
honey wine.
Our crew of 5 comrades, 2 of whom were under 10, set out on
foot just as the sky was beginning to lighten.
We were very fortunate to eventually make it to a location near the
Washington monument, directly in front of three jumbo-trons after what was a
three hour trek in sub freezing conditions down North Capital Avenue. The crowd, an incredibly diverse sea of D-I-Y
democracy, softly seethed with unity, love and the collective force of
will. The audio on the jumbo-trons was
so clear that you could almost hear the president placing his hand on the bible
just before the oath was taken. One
thing for certain is that I was well layered: silk long johns, wool socks, one
of my Chicago winter coats and a hat with flaps. I wrapped my head in a thick scarf, which
allowed me to warm my face with my breath.
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| The Jumbo-Tron |
My mind repeatedly flooded with ancestral whispers as I stood
on the National Mall, stories of the dizzying reality of suffering and genocide
that was quite a component in the founding of this placed called the USA. Many in my lineage weren’t ever able to vote
in their lifetimes because of their ethnicity or gender. Many were systematically diseased and
stripped of their land and lives. Having
made a conscious effort to change their name to Outlaw, my paternal family was
run out of the southern states for daring to pursue their full measure of
happiness. Suddenly a roaring thunder arrived and my thoughts were interrupted
with the deafening sound of 2 million people clapping in gloved hands. Ahaaaaa!!!
The grey frigid skies over Washington DC seemed to suddenly burst with
the warmth of enthusiasm and hope.
I know it’s somewhat surprising that someone like me - someone
very ill suited to cold weather and quite politically cynical - would ever end
up at a presidential inauguration, spending 9 hours in 11 degree winter
winds. However I found myself void of
words, speechless for a couple days after January 20, 2009. I just have this pervasive feeling that
something could be right in the world, if only for a moment, if only for a
day. I suppose I just needed to capture
a glimpse of history, to fill my pockets with snippets of inspiration, to
witness a lit match that could ignite the masses to be the change.
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| The National Mall |
