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.