Voices: Blessed Obama
I've felt the excitement of political rally in New York City while protesting Bush Administration policies on the first anniversary of the war on Iraq.
To a lesser extent, I felt the buzz while creating a Rape Free Zone here in Scranton hours before performing in "The Vagina Monologues." But until this week, I had no idea that political conventions could be as captivating and as exciting as championship-sporting events or as subject to critical interpretation as professional theatre.
My struggling, single mother never looked to the government to take care of her or her children. She didn't give a darn what anyone willing to label himself "politican" had to say. They fell into the large pool of people she indiscriminately referred to as "hypocrites." It wasn't until my first women's studies course in college explained exactly how the personal really was political, that I began to see myself as occupying a legitimate place in this undeniably political society.
I fell asleep during the democrats' first night of speeches on Monday. Sometime after Al Gore righteously bitched, I dreamt of Jimmy Carter speaking on a wooden platform in the middle of a cornfield under a too-blue sky, cliché with puffy white clouds. In the morning, I knew I had missed Clinton spin a masterful web, but doubted the possibility of any real loss. I had seen political speeches before. I haven't missed one State of the Union address since 1991. Yet until Barack Obama addressed the nation on Tuesday night, I had no idea magic - the white kind, anyway - could occur in American politics.
I was intrigued the moment I heard his name - how interesting of the democrats to give the keynote slot to a virtual unknown. Then, the young Illinois senator spoke of his Kenyan-born father who left goat herding to study on American scholarship and his Kansas-born mother's ambitious parents. I was captivated. His pride was inspirational, his presence was stirring and his words were deceptively simple. I was astonished at how poignantly his phrases seized on classic and irrefutable truths. And how they did so with an ancient, familiar rhythm.
"It's that fundamental belief - I am my brother's keeper, I am my sister's keeper - that makes this country work. It's what allows us to pursue our individual dreams, yet still come together as a single American family. 'E pluribus unbum.' Out of many, one," he enforced before warning us against the "spin masters" that conspired to divide us.
If I had TiVo, I would have watched Obama deliver that speech again and again, entirely missing the fact that PBS's political commentators and guest historians had just gotten as excited as I had.
One of the first journalists to open his mouth gushed that such speeches were exactly why he had gone into the business. Others claimed to have witnessed "a bit of history." One actually said, "A star is being born." And yet another got so excited he gloated that the "networks" had missed it.
"That was like watching Tiger Woods perform in his first tournament," it was said of Barack Obama. This 42-year-old former editor of The Harvard Law Review had transcended all labels and clichés and was possible destined to be the first black president of the United States of America. Jim Lehrer was so excited he sent a thankfully-informed Gwen Ifill running over to get a post-speech interview at the podium so the commentators could hungrily gobble that up in analysis, too.
If this wasn't an election year, none of us would have witnessed Obama's star-quality. It would be at least another year (even longer for those without C-Span) before Obama could distinguish himself on the national radar.
The democrats are united in cheering for Kerry right now, and I'm happy for them. But at this time last year, I remember desperately wanting to believe that a real leader was out there. Someone who could inspire even those who hadn't yet dared to believe that America had a place for them, too. If all our options for office were as honestly exciting as Obama, maybe speeches and debates would be as popular an American pastime as football. In the meantime, it's nice to know there might be something worth staying awake for every four years.
--alicia grega-pikul, 29 July 2004
Send e-mail to: apikul@timesshamrock.com.
