Friday, September 5, 2008

Closing the Circle

This morning I was thinking about Obama’s candidacy. They were talking on NPR about how he was at some small gatherings shaking hands and I got to thinking about how much I’d like to shake his hand.

I was picturing it in my head, reaching out and shaking his hand, how I’d use both hands and look him in the eye and try to encourage him in a meaningful way. And much to my surprise as I was picturing this and thinking of the moment of this happening, tears welled up in my eyes. It truly caught me by surprise. And I wondered about how strongly it was making me feel.

I grew up in the 60s and 70s. My parents were both college professors, and I can remember that they participated in civil rights marches. I remember the protest signs my mom made with her silk-screening frame. She’s an artist and art historian. I just remember as a kid it was amazing to see the signs she had made of black and white hands open and overlapped. I learned what my parents thought was important.

My parents bought a house in the poorer area of the town we grew up in, and as a result my brother and I went to schools that were about 80-90% African-American from Kindergarten to 8th grade. This was a deliberate choice on my parents’ part, and it taught me so much.

So I feel like for years I’ve had at least a little more appreciation for the issues of race than many other whites. And so when I thought about shaking Barack’s hand and being able to look him in the eye and wish him well, although he would have no idea, I realized it would be a moment that would have so much meaning for me personally, and how strongly and sincerely I would really mean what I would say to him.

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