i watched the inauguration of barack obama last week with some family friends and my two children. (yes, i kept terra out of school so i could have her with me.) it was a special day and i do recall one moment when i felt a bubble of emotion rise within me. i was proud of my country and my countrymen. i felt good about this president who i voted for, even though i did not vote for him in the primary. it felt like a new day in america. i was working in a book store when clinton was inaugurated in early '93 and i will never forget this woman who came in and bought a book from me in that season. she was the intellectual sort, (and the book store was in claremont so she fit right in,) and she seemed a bit disheveled but in a good way. we chatted and she explained to me that she had just moved back here after living in southeast asia for eight years. she said she had become so dismayed during reagan's presidency that she felt like she did not recognize america as her home any more and so she left. she was back however as clinton ascended and she had an especially bright outlook. she was optimistic-plus and she said it felt so good to be back, teaching in claremont at one of the schools and among her people.
i think i borrowed her feelings on january 20th. i remembered her and her story so clearly that i could not help but just feel that way, the way i always imagined she felt when she described it to me in a quiet book store 16 years ago. so, it was a nice day for me though terra (4,) and mark (2,) kept me grounded.
today however, i opened an email from my dad that i had actually received earlier in the day from a friend of mine, (though i had not the time to open it.) it was a series of photographs from inauguration day from the boston globe from around the world. there are photos from nairobi and mexico city. there is a photo of the national mall from a satellite overhead. there are photos of barack and michelle obama dancing and there is one of sasha obama peeking from behind the thick glass of the presidential limousine.
but the photo from above, (#33 I think,) caught me off guard. it is tommie smith and john carlos and their wives having a group hug as they watched the day's events unfold on television. (i wish i did not know there was a cameraman there to record the moment.) i saw that photo as i scrolled through this collection of great pictures and i gasped as if i was choking. emotion welled up in me so quickly and unexpectedly. i imagined carlos and smith and how they must have felt on this day. it seemed beyond pride. it is amazing to me that these two guys who stood up for something some 40 years earlier would be together on this day. i was choking on joy.
that's right. i was choking on joy. it was joy that came over me like a dizzying cloud. these two guys raised their fists in solidarity in mexico city and suffered severe consequences for their actions. the beauty of their athleticism was lost in the turmoil of their convictions and the reaction to their act of defiance. recently as a generation of americans who hated based on skin color has eroded and their children have turned from the ways of their fathers, the legacy of carlos and smith has come into a fairer light. and this touched me. i am so glad these guys lived to see this day. i am so glad their relationship has improved and they were able to share the day.
it is a shame their faces cannot be seen in the photograph but it seems appropriate they have this small amount of privacy so naturally provided by the circle of love they shared.
