Experiencing History Live - Obama's Grant Park Rally

My junior year in high school there was an assignment sent out to all the students in my AP US History class:  write in detail about one historical event you'd love to see within your lifetime but were doubtful would come to fruitition.  A daunting task.  What would I pick?  Hrmm.  Gay marriage?  No, my budding sexuality hadn't come into it's fullness yet, and marriage was far from my mind.  An Asian Supreme Court Chief Justice?  Perhaps, considering at the time this was my life's goal after I attended law school.  Yet after much thought and consideration, I came to write my paper on the idea of the first black President of the United States.  Something, at the time, I was fairly certain I would never see in my life time.

Could you blame me?  As a half-Asian teen, I'd experienced my fair share of racial discrimination.  If someone who looked as white as I did could be thrown out of birthday parties because parents didn't want me in the same pool as their white children, if my mother was ridiculed in Wal-Mart because associates assumed she couldn't speak English (she does, and quite well), if my sister had men scream "Go back to China you f*cking ch*nk" out of moving cars on her walk to school all within this society, I couldn't imagine what someone with darker skin would face in their daily life.  The idea that this country, with all it's glorious highs and shallow negatives, could progress far enough to elect a black man into the highest office in the land was foreign to me.  And it was until Tuesday night.

It was this memory of my childhood that remained in my head as I queued up on Congress Avenue at 3 PM with my Obama Rally tickets, eagerly awaiting not only the possibility of a new direction for our government, but a new direction for our country historically.  The original plan was for Zach to park his car near my house and take the train down to my office where I'd skip out a little early and we'd grab a bite to eat and then get into the line a little bit before the gates opened at 8:30 PM.  On his way to park at my house Zach passed Grant Park on Lake Shore Drive and noted that despite warnings not to line up early, there was already a small one forming at around 2 PM.  He made a "maverick" split second decision to immediately park his car and get into line, hoping that his quick thinking would garner us a front row view of Obama during his acceptance or concession speech.

Which turned out to be a wise choice!  Zach ended up amazingly close to the front of the line, and had the good fortune of landing right behind two people he had classes with while in college, Sarah and Todd.  They entertained him for a good while with conversation and card games.  The police decided at that point that they were going to move the first hundred or so people in the line to the next holding area, at which point Zach panicked a little knowing full well he didn't have the tickets.  In less then two minutes I managed to change into my casual clothes, grab all my belongings, sneak out of the office, and dash the few blocks over to find him in line, thus securing our entry into the event well ahead of the majority of ticket holders.  Woo!

The sun started to set and the crowd was growing more and more restless.  The holding areas they kept moving us into lacked any bathroom facilities, water, or food but everyone managed to remain civil and excited.  It was fantastic to be surrounded by people from so many walks of life.  The insane woman from Indiana who wore a full length winter coat covered in Obama buttons.  The black women from the Southside who had brought their daughters, nieces, and nephews to the rally in the hopes of inspiring these youth to dream and aspire to greater things.  The African immigrant who had an extra ticket and willingly offered it for free to an enthusiastic European man who wore a big sign that read, "Please would you let me be *your* guest to Obama tonight?"  It was a diverse slice of Americana, the exact combination of different people from different worlds coming together for a common cause that really defined the victory Obama solidified that night.   A stark contrast to the McCain rally you saw televised into living rooms across the world.  I don't think it's a big secret that after this election the Republican party is going to go back to the drawing board and really have a serious discussion about how the party platform can be better communicated to voting blocs like African Americans and Latinos, which I'd argue despite conventional wisdom that there is a lot of common ground between (Republicans and minority groups that is....).

After hours of waiting, check points, security details, and more waiting, the four of us cleared the last station and dashed off to claim a spot in front of the dais.  We were fairly close to the podium, I'd wager within about 1/4 of a football field's length.   The evening was pretty calm and peaceful, with two notable exceptions.  On my way back from using the restroom I was shoved by an old man who insisted I had violated his personal space and tried to push him.  His shove was so forceful that I ended up knocking a few people off their balance when I bulldozed into them.  I had to spend a good minute or two pretty much repeating "Sir, I'm sorry if you thought I pushed you, any contact between the two of us was completely accidental.  You need to calm down, we're all here for the same reason."  Freak.  Zach's friend Sarah encountered similiar resistance from a group of angry girls who didn't want her to pass them to get to the rest room.  They ended up tripping her and one jumped on top of her and lightly slapped/punched her in the face.   Everyone was so crazed about maintaining a good spot for the speech that moving around was a bit of a crap shoot.  After our two incidents we decided to just stay put and enjoy our good seating.

The results kept rolling in on the big Jumbotron in Grant Park.  As each successive state went blue, the anticipation in the rally grew and grew.  The bigger the state, the bigger the swelling of joy that ripped through the crowd.  Rhode Island got a few "woos".  Illinois, a given, got some jumping and clapping.  When Ohio was called in favor of Obama the crowd whipped itself into a frenzied riot, leaping into the sky and screaming at the top of it's lungs, thanking our Ohioan neighbors for their support.   The 9 PM hour marked a change in the crowd's attitude though.  The math was leaning heavily in Obama's favor, and with the polls closing in California everyone knew that the magic number was certainly within reach.  There's something eerie about a million people simulatneously breathing in and out as a group, impatiently waiting for what everyone knows is inevitable but yet still harboring those lingering doubts in the back of their collective minds.  You could cut the tension with a knife as the seconds ticked down to the polls closing on the west coast. 

Then they called it.  "Breaking News:  Barack Obama Elected President."  It leaped off the Jumbotron into the faces of the swarming mass of people below it.   

There really are no words to describe what it was like being in the midst of all that.  I was jostled from side to side as the people around me left the ground in random spurts, shouts of joy and excitement tumbling out of their mouths like clumsy children at play.  I joined them without hesitation, throwing my hands into the air and celebrating the moment I'd come to long for over the last 8 years.  I was holding it together quite well until I turned around and saw the African-American woman behind me.  She'd been there the whole night, shouting words of encouragement at the screen.  Her baby boy had fallen asleep half way into the night, and she tirelessly held him to her chest while patiently watching the numbers roll in.   When I turned she had finished shouting and celebrating, and instead simply rocked her sleeping baby back and forth in her arms, nuzzling his head under her chin and let tears stream down her face.  She didn't have to say anything, you could feel the pride, the disbelief, the sheer meaning of the moment radiating off her being.  I'm not ashamed to say I let myself get a little teary eyed watching her.  I can only imagine the thoughts running through her head at the moment.  Thinking of her ancestors in chains, her grandparents struggling through Jim Crow and seperate but equal, her parents facing segregated lunch counters and freedom rides.  And then to stand with her little son 50 feet away from the first non-white President of the United States.  Change indeed.

McCain conceded with what I thought was an amazingly gracious and humble speech.  I was happy to see that the crowd around me clapped in unison as he made his remarks.  It would have ruined the moment for me if they'd used juvenile behavior to detract from John McCain as he struggled through what must have been one of the most disappointing moments of his life.  It angered me that the Republican crowd was not as gracious, choosing to boo, hiss, and cat call any mention of unity with Democrats or the newly President-elect.  I think it speaks more to their fractured party then their manners or demeanor though.  They're frustrated and lost, and what else is there left to do but lament that?  It's a long hard road for them coming out of this, but given time I have faith that the conservatives will reorganize and get back on their feet.   When McCain finished, the crowd knew Obama would be making his appearance soon.  The music began blasted from the loud speakers; country, R&B, rock, and pop.  A mix of music to please the wide mix of people who formed the Obama coalition snaking through the park. 

When he took the stage I held my breathe.  I was certain people would rush the stage to get a better view, perhaps creating a safety issue for those of us at the very front.  To my complete and utter surprise, not a single person moved or pushed me forward.  Instead, the crowd erupted into a cheer, and hands extended into the air with digital cameras in tow, creating a sea of glimmering light flashes above our heads, our own political Aurora Borealis.   You've all seen the speech so there's no need to rehash the content.  I'll just say that it was a moment that I won't forget.  I leaned against Zach and rested my head on his shoulder and just took it all in.  I was moved.  It was a great day for me, a great day for Chicago, a great day for Democrats, and a great day for America as a whole, Republicans and Democrats and Independants a like.  Elizabeth Hasselbeck, as polarizing as she is, got it right when she told her daughter (who asked if Obama won who had lost?) that "no one lost today."  We all won a little victory, whether we voted for him or not.

It's no secret that Obama falls fairly well in line with me political.  I'm a pretty tried and true Democrat, and I don't feel bad for my leftish leanings, though I've always strived hard to understand conservatives and be open to their ideas and dialogue with them.   I even get into fights with my liberal friends about how disrespectful they can be at times.  Will Obama be a great president?  I don't know.  Will Obama manage to create the change he campaigned on?  I don't know.  Fortune telling politics is useless though.  There isn't a single Republican or Democrat who can say with any confidence that the candidate they voted for will deliver on anything they said they would.  All I have is faith in the idea that Obama meant what he said and will work toward those goals, and whether or not he achieves them I'll be proud of my vote as long as he struggles along the path to get there. 

I watched history that night, and I made a memory I'll never, ever forget.  It's probably one of the most memorable things I've done to date.  I can't wait to tell my children what it was like to witness in person the day America changed forever.