As a rule, I try not to make a habit of thinking about holidays out of season. There’s something terribly incongruous about playing Christmas carols, for example, while in the clutches of July heat. But, the day after America elected her first Black President seems like the right time to allow an exception. Just this once – for the sake of historical perspective – it’s fitting to tune out winter’s approaching howl and pause to ponder the Fourth of July.
The Independence Day holiday has long been enigmatic in the Black community. In my family, the word association game resembles something like this: July 4th – vacation from work – barbecue at an uncle’s house. Freedom, patriotism and love of country come further down the list – when they appear at all.
That doesn’t imply African Americans are unpatriotic. You can trace our reverence for this country back to 1770 when a black man, Crispus Attucks, took one for the team and became the first person to shed blood in the American Revolution. We bought in even then.
But, when the first article of your nation’s constitution counts your ancestors as three fifths of an individual, the table is set for a complex relationship. Ask Michelle Obama; she could explain how it’s possible to move from simply being proud of one’s country to being "really proud."
It’s sort of like moving to a larger house in the same affluent zip code.
That’s what happened for African Americans the night of November 4th; you might say that our collective house got bigger as our love of country grew.
Here’s how President-Elect Barack Obama put it during his victory speech: "If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible, who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time, who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer."
For too long, we said we believed that most things were possible. Deep down, we understood there were limitations – imagined, if not entirely real. Then came the fourth of November and that all changed.
Not only for Blacks, but for all Americans.
Electing Barack Obama President proves, in an arresting way, America’s limitless possibilities. It’s much the same as how the Civil Rights Movement’s legal victories proved the greatness of the U.S.
Constitution. Announcing Obama’s electoral victory was historically tantamount to the moment Jefferson placed the final period on the Declaration of Independence.
No, having a President Obama (boy, that’s got a ring to it) doesn’t mean that all the playing fields are level and that we’re standing in one large circle singing Kum Ba Yah yet. Instead, his impending presidency marks a watershed moment when our similarities as Americans really do outweigh our differences.
The Obama victory also recognizes in a genuine way America’s true diversity. The executive office now will resemble the ethnic, racial and cultural patchwork that assembled in Election Night Celebrations from Chicago’s Grant Park, to New York’s Times Square to San Francisco’s
Castro Street – the "real America" that wasn’t reflected in John McCain’s and Sarah Palin’s campaign rallies.
If the choice is between the American quilt and a flag pin, which would you choose? I choose the Fourth of November one; the one that offers my six-year-old the promise of a broader path, greater opportunities and a spirit of national community.
I was thinking about my daughter’s future one day – not long after Barack Obama had announced his plans to seek office – while the two of us walked together on a high school track. A little blond girl passed us; her hair flowed in the breeze. I noticed my daughter’s braids bounding about in her wake and wondered: How soon would it be before some shock jock would call her nappy headed?
The Fourth of November seemed light-years away.
Then my daughter looked up and asked whether we could sing. So, we sang a song the old folks taught me when I was growing up:
Walk together children, don’t you get weary,
Walk together children, don’t you get weary,
Walk together children, don’t you get weary,
There’s a great camp meeting in the Promised Land.
- Jonathan Clarke, November 5, 2008
