You Can Tell Me That Race Has Nothing To Do With It
But it does.
I live in Ohio. And here? Race has everything to do with it. Okay, well, not everything. Those who aren’t concerned about his “being black” are concerned with the “fact” that he is Muslim. Or that he kills babies. Or that he’s the anti-Christ. But, yes, most of it goes back to his skin color. And this drives me absolutely insane. (Obviously, there are intelligent, non-bigots that support McCain but even those among my real life friends have talked about this sad reality.)
I made it out to a rally yesterday. My first and, obviously, only of the season. I missed previous ones due to short notice, other plans and random illness(es). All the same, standing outside yesterday, even though it was in the upper 60’s, has left me almost without a voice today. (My chorale director will be thrilled, no?) I stood there, in what was touted as Columbus’ biggest rally ever, and looked at the people around me. White families. Black families. Hispanic families. Mixed families (which included one in our group).
It was just very moving to me. To see people in this state, of all states, come together. To hear them united in a cause instead of spewing hate at one another. To feel encouraged that Obama might actually win instead of discouraged by the words of hate that I’ve had to endure for months and months. To feel that perhaps change is possible. And not even all of the change that even some supporters are skeptical of Obama delivering. While it would be great if everything fell into place, I’m well aware that it will be a tough, long road for some of the reforms.
But the change I’m looking forward to?
When my daughter and her daughter and my friend’s daughter who was with us might actually be able to believe that they, too, could be President. When gender won’t be an issue. When race won’t be an issue. Well, maybe not the complete absence of an issue. But perhaps to the point where those who actually vocalize their distaste in voting outside of their own racial identity will be in the vast, vast minority and shunned as the ignorant fools that they are.
Someday we’ll be able to stand together, even in this strange state of Ohio. Until then, my task is to raise my sons to feel and think the same way despite what others around them may do or say. And, sadly, that will be a task enough in itself thanks to the hatred that lives in this area.
But I’ll hold out hope. Tomorrow and always.
Dare I say it — I think we’re gonna win this one!
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Race has SO much to do with it. I have a lot of friends who were able to make one of the other rallies yesterday and I’m glad to hear you were at yours. I’m still too scared to get my hopes up about Ohio, but I love reading updates from the front from people like Dawn and you.
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God, I would love to say that to my daughter(s)one day too. What a beautiful dream…
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Jenna,
I am glad you made it to a rally, hope your voice holds out.
My hub and I took the kids to the rally under the St.Louis Arch(over 100,000 people!) The feeling of the crowd was wonderful, diverse, and very hopeful.
I took my son with me to vote this morning too, he was so excited!
This is history, and it gives me HOPE for all our children.
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