I am speechless.
Except not really, because I am here and writing and this and my mind is running at a mile a minute -
Okay. Slow down, and breathe.
We just elected the first black President of the United States – correction, the first Multicultural President of the United States.
This is my first time voting in a presidential election. I voted in the primary, but the energy was nothing like this.
When I woke up this morning, I couldn’t bring myself to muster much enthusiasm for anything. The sky was gray and it threatened to rain. I had a class at 8:30 to get to and a million other obligations that had been weighing on my mind all week. Everyone I passed encouraged me to vote and to think about my polling place, while all I could do was nod and think about how comfortable my bed would be.
When I got on the shuttle to go to my polling place, the sky opened up. The rain that had been threatening to pour all day forewent any further intimidation and poured down with a vengeance. I remember thinking, thank god I don’t have to walk back in that and, I wonder if the lines will be long? I was still only vaguely aware and barely awake, unlike everyone else in the shuttle. They were strung taught, nervous bundles of trembling energy, while I leaned my chin on my chest and dozed.
I started to wake up on the line. It was then that I began to notice the other people around me, to notice the anxiety, or hope, or anticipation in their faces.
I was in a state of mental panic by the time I stepped into the voting booth. I stared and stared at the panel, my mind running in circles as my hand hovered over the boxes. Was I really about to do this? When had I turned eighteen and missed it? What would happen afterward?
It took a lot to finally just push the damn button.
I spent the day in a haze, trying to get excited but failing, growing ever more anxious as time passed and I couldn’t get near a television or a computer. If I think about it, the election really came alive for me at the Black Cultural Center. That’s where it all came together, where all of us cried and cheered and whooped together, only to run screaming into the night with joy as if we couldn’t contain what we were feeling. And we couldn’t. We gathered on Parrish Beach to sing and shout some more, and drew in passing crowds to cheer with us – Barack Obama is president.
Hours later and I still don’t know what to say. Except, maybe: thank you.
