Today, I was party to the changing of our story.





At 4:30 this morning, I woke up from my air mattress on the floor of the Elections Assistance Commission in downtown Washington DC, where my brother works, and began my meeting with something truly historical. Stacy, my brother Matt, and my sister-in-law Jo had done a magnificent job of planning and packing...and we lit out for the subways around 5:00, armed with longjohns, cameras, subway tickets, and our Silver Passes to the standing-room section of the Capitol reflecting pool area.

By 5:30, we were on a short train ride to the Capitol, surrounded by the earliest-rising of the Obama inauguration-goers, all with eyes puffy with morning but wide with anticipation. By 6:00, we had joined thousands of people who had lined up for entrance to the "Silver Section" for those with passes.

The crowd was astonishingly polite, considering the time, the temp, the throngs, and the tease of six hours of waiting before we got to see our new President sworn in. Folks huddled with their friends and family for warmth, and good-natured joking prevailed over the few pushes and scattered dumbassiness. We worked our way through line after line, through checkpoints and by National Guardsmen and countless police and volunteers. (I told a bit more of the story of getting to our spot, complete with pics, here on my Flickr account, or on the ol' Video Diary if'n you're interested).

The hope that seemed to electrify the air in the District yesterday became actual overt, tangible expressions of joy and energy today. Everywhere we went, people were talking to strangers, chatting it up about what Barack Obama means to them, sharing stories of their excitement, their background, their journey to this spot, and their hopes for what today's inaguruation means. Obama ran on a platform of change and hope...these are sentimental footnotes to most Presidential campaigns, the kind of comulsory claptrap used to putty together vague campaign promises. But for this campaign...for this candidate...change and hope were built-in...they were inherent in becoming the first African-American president. You couldn't elect Barack Obama without electing for change. I won't list here all the reasons why the person and policy of Barack Obama, far beyond his race, underscores every inch of his platform for hope and change...it's a topic I've covered before and will likely cover again soon...but what the people of the US voted for was real change, echoing well beyond politics and into damn near every facet of how we live together as Americans.

The inauguration was stunning. By the time we were in and shifted a few times (again, check out the Flickr account), we were about 400 yds away from the Capitol steps, and surrounded on all sides by coats, hats, and the steaming breath of the excited. Three hours of waiting punctuated by the occasional shot of Obama's limo closing in on the Capitol (which was always met with huge cheers from the crowd) were spent trying to keep the handwarmers warm and the toes from getting stepped on. The anticipation built with every passing minute, and despite chilly winds and more than a little claustrophobic crowding, we couldn't but palaver with those around us as if we had all just come from the same cocktail party, and had already spent an evening chattering. Despite being in the absolute racial minority (I'm guessing 70/30 black/white mix in our section), I was talked to as a brother and Stacy as a sister...I was encouraged into choruses of "Yes We Did!" and presumed to be an equal advocate for social and political racial equality. It was incredible...and the sense of general trust and positive regard for humanity was tremendously inspiring.

As musicians played and speakers spoke and poets read, there was a slow-sea change in my heart...I began to feel proud of my country...not just in my head; not just in theory anymore. I don't tend to feel much of anything until I've really thought about it first...and today was finally my chance to culminate my many thoughts on what makes this election mean so much to me into actual feelings about it. My chest was swelled with national pride as the trumpet flourishes announced the arrival and entrance of our new President, and my own cheers drowned out the screams around me as he took his seat, and as he took his oath.

President Obama (I'm not getting tired of saying that any time soon, if you're wondering) gave a very stirring speech that truthfully, I need to read a half dozen more times to truly understand. I encourage you to take the time to read it...preferably out loud...but here are two passages that instantly brought tears to my eyes:

We remain a young nation, but in the words of Scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things. The time has come to reaffirm our enduring spirit; to choose our better history; to carry forward that precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free, and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness.

In reaffirming the greatness of our nation, we understand that greatness is never a given. It must be earned. Our journey has never been one of shortcuts or settling for less. It has not been the path for the fainthearted -- for those who prefer leisure over work, or seek only the pleasures of riches and fame. Rather, it has been the risk-takers, the doers, the makers of things -- some celebrated, but more often men and women obscure in their labor -- who have carried us up the long, rugged path toward prosperity and freedom.

and...

To the people of poor nations, we pledge to work alongside you to make your farms flourish and let clean waters flow; to nourish starved bodies and feed hungry minds. And to those nations like ours that enjoy relative plenty, we say we can no longer afford indifference to suffering outside our borders; nor can we consume the world's resources without regard to effect. For the world has changed, and we must change with it.

By the conclusion of the ceremony, I was exhausted...physically, mentally, emotionally...and I was euphoric. As we joined the streaming throngs who filled the streets to celebrate and meander back towards wherever it was we were going, it was as if we'd spilled into a post-WWII ticker-tape parade. There was cheering, laughing, hugs, signs being waved, and bits and pieces of paper and scraps flying everywhere. I felt like our nation, in that moment, exhaled...like we had finally made it through, and felt comfortable enough to just rest for a moment.

We found our way to L'Enfant Plaza station, shuffled our way through the tired (and by this point occasionally crabby) crowds, and found our train towards home. By the time we made it through the front door and collapsed into bed for a late-afternoon warming nap, I had spent nearly everything I had in me to take part in this historic event...and I loved it. I'm so grateful to have been one of the 2,000,000 people there to congratulate our new President and, most importantly, to share in this massive step forward for our country.

More to come.

Peace to you,
Justin