America Version 2.0

I woke up at 8:41am on the morning of November 4, 2008 to the incessant beeping of my five year old clock radio.
On November 5th, the same monophonic tones emanating from the tiny speakers roused me from my slumber at exactly the same time.
Nothing has changed.
Everything has changed.

Tuesday morning, I grabbed the familiar box of Corn Flakes - the one with Michael Phelps on the front - and poured a generous helping into a bowl awaiting its contents.
On Wednesday, the same cereal, topped with a delicious banana and a handful of withered raisins, hit the same bowl, breaking my fast for the day.
Nothing has really changed.
Everything has changed.

On November 4th, I opened the shutters to see low laying cirrus clouds covering most of the Metropolitan DC area. Rain.
The following day, those same grey clouds remained. No rain.
Nothing has changed?
Everything has changed.

A palpable tension was in the air on November 4th; stifling like the humidity preceding a summertime thunderstorm.
November 5, 2008: the crisp breeze of an autumnal zephyr welcomed me as I strolled from my apartment to my office.
Has nothing changed?
Everything has changed.

Yesterday, I worried about the future of America... I was wary of Americans' abilities to engage forthrightly in the democratic process, and believed that although our best days were ahead of us, we would be focused a lot on the politics of the past.
Today, I know America's best days are ahead and have regained my faith in this finicky system known as Democracy.
Something has to have changed.
Everything has changed.

On Tuesday, November 4, 2008, despite the rhetoric, saw America as a collective of bitterly divided states: red, blue, purple, and, in some instances, gray.
On Wednesday, those colors remained, but other, more presaging terms came to define America: bastion, hope, astonishing, great, proud.
Something has to have changed.
Everything has changed.

Yesterday, I went for a walk down a deserted street in Tenleytown and watched a little Black boy of about four being pulled on his arm by his mother. He stopped and tilted his head, like an unknowing puppy, smiling as he did so. The mother stopped too, but only to pick up her straggling son. Her puffy black coat, covered in coffee stains and little tears in the fabric, bore a white sticker: "I Voted!" it said. She continued to walk, glancing my way for the briefest of seconds... in that moment, I saw fear, anger, unrest, and wistfulness. In the second that our eyes connected, I noticed the look of anticipation, anxiety, and justice painted across her brown face. Our eyes disengaged and I strolled away. I was anxious.
Today, I went for a walk down that same street in Tenleytown, and although I didn't see the boy or his mother, I watched people of all colors and creeds sharing laughs, stories. A feeling of harmony was all but tangible and a tear came to my eye, knowing that this accord was only the beginning. Yes, poverty still exists, and will continue to exist. Sure, a walk in downtown DC will prove to anyone that homeless is rampant. A visit to any inner-city or rural schoolhouse will show you that inequalities remain. It wasn't Utopia by any means, but this... this feels different.
Something definitely changed.
Everything has changed.

On November 4, 2008, I waited with bated breath until 8pm, watching the political returns on close to five different networks and three different websites. I wondered aloud if America was ready for post-racial politics... if we as a country can begin to look past the exteriors that have dominated our social and cultural landscapes for almost half a millennium and really begin to judge one another, as Dr. King so eloquently put it, "Not by the color of his skin, but by the content of his character."
On November 5th, I realized anything was possible.
Everything has changed.
Everything really has changed.

Thank you, America. Thank you, Barack Obama. For the first time in seven years, I am proud to call myself a citizen of this country. For the first time since I can remember, "U.S.A. U.S.A." is not an imperialistic chant but a representation of this country's best. For the first time in my adult life, I am and feel like a true American. Hope for change, change for hope - progress.

Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the dawning of a new era. Welcome, one and all, to America 2.0.