a m e r i c a n   s c e n e WEEK-END --- dimanche 25 janvier 2009



A letter from Washington

Can white Americans truly understand the meaning of an Obama presidency?

Standing among the throngs of people gathered for the inauguration of Barack Obama as America's first African-American president, I felt a little left out - not quite able to totally grasp the magnitude of this historic moment.

Black women around me were jumping up and down, waving small American flags, tears running down their cheeks. They were saying how liberated they felt, that the burden of decades of discrimination had finally been lifted from their weary shoulders.

I could share in their excitement, but not in their struggle. As a white woman, I grew up as a privileged member of American society, and I knew nothing different. Everyone on television and in the movies looked like me. My teachers were white. The policemen in our wealthy New England town were white. And all the presidents I admired during my lifetime - until now - have been white.

The only Black kids I knew were bused into town from poor neighborhoods of Boston, under a controversial but progressive program born in the turbulence of the 1970s aimed at integrating our white-dominated schools. That program sent us some of our best high school basketball players, but also resulted in many racial fights at our school.

As I watched Obama take the oath of office as America's 44th president, I began to wonder what it would be like to have grown up as a Black woman in a segregated America, to be forced to eat in different restaurants, to go to different schools, to drink from different water fountains. And to wonder what it is like today to be a Black American, and still made to feel inferior despite the many advances born of the civil rights movement.

Not having ever felt the sting of discrimination, how could I truly appreciate the depth of their joy, excitement and relief?

I wondered too, if Obama himself could appreciate exactly what he has done, and the significance of his victory. Born in the 1960s, the son of a Black man from Kenya and a white woman from Kansas, he lived in Hawaii and Indonesia. He was just two years old when Martin Luther King made his famous I Have a Dream speech, and he lived in an America much changed by the civil rights movement. He benefited from new federal laws that opened up education and the workplace to minorities. He attended some of the country's most prestigious universities. And now he is president of the United States.

The appeal of Obama, I have come to realize, is that his victory symbolizes the kind of America that Americans and the world idealize about: a country that is open to different races, religions and ideas, and that rewards hard work and persistence. As a headline in a newspaper in South Dakota put it the day after the inauguration: "Obama raises his hand, lifts a nation"

But not everyone is happy with an Obama presidency. The FBI this week reported that the number of threats against Obama's life has increased since his election in November. These threats are mostly homegrown - from white supremacist groups that believe his election represents the stealing of a nation that was created for and by white people. For such hate groups, there is no acceptance of racial equality.

Obama faces some enormous challenges here and abroad, and his presidency will be judged and evaluated by his ability to deal with a deepening economic crisis, two wars and a hostile world. But many of his successes won't be so obvious, as they will come in subtle, evolving changes in the fabric of American society. These will include new friendships and more solid communities formed by Americans answering Obama's call to do community service and volunteer their time as educational tutors, as homeless shelters aides, or the like.

And the successes will also come in subtle changes in the nation's race relations, as Blacks and Whites put aside their suspicions and live more harmoniously together.

Mauritian-born Marie-France (Nadal) Armstrong, from Bambous-Virieux, wishes this for both herself and her two daughters. As a Creole of mixed parentage, and married to a white American, Marie-France and her daughters are often caught between two worlds, not sure exactly where they belong.

Things are changing, she says, and her daughters have grown more relaxed and proud to discuss their Mauritian Creole heritage.

Things will be changing even further, she hopes. With a president in the White House who is both Black and White, she feels people of color will become more confident and more accepted. Diversity in America has reached the highest level.

She related a story about how on inauguration day, the emotion of the moment so intense, that a white woman standing next to her, a total stranger, grabbed her and held her for what seemed like a long time in a long hug. She didn't resist, and hugged the woman back.

"That was an amazing moment, and I've never seen a crowd so diverse and so unified and happy," she said, adding that this sense of unity bodes well for the future. "We'll be talking less about color and more about the person," she said, her voice laced with hope.



a m e r i c a n   s c e n e WEEK-END --- dimanche 25 janvier 2009