In a food court

Today I sat in a food court on a college campus, surrounded by hundreds of my academic peers, staring unwaveringly at a projector screen as we all followed with breathless anticipation the CNN coverage of the inauguration. To my right, my student worker. To my left, my supervisor. Both women of color. Both fighting back tears.

Aretha Franklin appears on the screen, her hat rivaling her splendid rendition of "My Country 'Tis of Thee". The power of her voice washes over the room, drowning out the few commentating on her fashion choice.

A pause. Shuffling in Washington D.C.

Vice President-Elect Biden stands and takes his oath. The tension in the room builds as everyone leans forward, expecting President-Elect Obama to stand next.

Instead, another music selection. An original composition with the best pianist, cellist, violinist, and clarinet players in the world. A beautiful, moving piece, appropriate to the occasion.

11:00 am CST. A "Fact" flashes across the bottom of the screen. Sworn in or not, Barack Hussein Obama is the 44th President of the United States. The music soars at this very moment. Most in the room miss the factoid, but my student worker and I do not. She is confused, thinking he needs to take the oath to become President. I inform her our Constitution is designed to not allow for any break in power; to provide a clean transition of the office given schedules are notoriously abandoned.

The music ends. The Obama family rises. Once again, tension fills the food court. I break my eyes from the screen and look around me. On many faces I read awe and fear and know the feelings are reflected in my own expression. Can I truly be witnessing such a momentous occasion? Will he make it through this or did some nut make it through security?

A platform appears on stage and the proceedings slow. Like a true father, President Obama focuses on his daughters, instructing the youngest the platform is for her to stand on. She merrily leaps up and everyone is at last in place.

President Obama places one hand on the Lincoln Bible, raises his other hand in the air. A false start, then, "I, Barack Hussein Obama, do solemnly swear..." And then a pause. Who stumbled? Did he forget what he was supposed to say?

Laughter and cheers fill the room as the Chief Justice repeats the second line of the oath, correctly this time. Of course President Obama did not forget the oath. It is 35 words long and he is known for memorizing considerably longer pieces of writing. He knew what he had been asked to say was incorrect, and so he stopped.

Quickly recovering, Chief Justice Roberts continues, finishes administering the oath. Although it is not part of the official oath, President Obama concludes with "So help me God", just as so many before him did.

The room erupts into cheers and clapping. Shouts and tears. Service members stand near the entrances of the food court, handing out miniature American flags. Relief floods through us all as we realize that which we had only hoped could happen has just been solidified.

It quiets again as we all seek to hear every word of the speech. It is not the inspirational, JKF-esque speech we expected. We listen for the line that will become the quote generations from now recite. We do not hear it, or if we do, we do not recognize it as such. The speech is instead somber, itemizing the many issues we face and reminding us there is a lot of work to do. No longer can we be selfish. No longer can we be self-serving. No longer can we be divided.

For me, the main event is over. I have to get back to work; I have a life to lead and a degree to earn. I am of no use to anyone sitting, watching a screen, and so I move. When I do so, I notice my head is a bit higher, my back a bit straighter, my gaze a bit more direct. I am proud.

Today, for the second time in my life, I witnessed a momentous occasion. With eery similarity, I once again sat in an academic setting, staring at the television as history unfolded. This time, however, I was not watching buildings fall. I instead watched the affirmation of that which they attempted to destroy. "Our spirit is stronger and cannot be broken. You cannot outlast us, and we will defeat you." We already have.

It is not the end of a long road, nor is it the beginning of another. It is a milestone in a continuous, winding path; the emergence from the tunnel on the way to the summit. It is not really even about him. It is about us, as individuals and as a people, choosing to grow, expand our minds, and live the pluralism that we take for granted and yet are so hated for.

Today I am filled with joy and with hope.

~g