Obama Rally (overdue)

I never had the opportunity to document the Chicago Obama rally. It's long overdue, but the moment still resonates throughout the city and the nation. I think I've been afraid to write about it because I don't know how my words could do it justice. Let me start by apologizing for the inadequacy of words, and by saying that it was, perhaps, the most important political event I will attend in my lifetime.

Despite my excitement about Obama and this election, when November 4 arrived, I was not convinced that I should attend the rally. All day at work, I changed my mind by the hour. One moment I was going to go and be an active part of the most historical election in U.S. history. The next moment I was imagining gun shots and bombs. A mixture of 9/11, MLK and JFK images whipped up fear in my mind. I really was worried (and I wasn't alone), and vacillated all day. When I left work, I wasn't going to go, and convinced my friends it was the sensible decision. An hour after that, I was putting my persuasion skills to the test, urging the same friends to ignore what I'd said earlier, that we HAD to go, that this was history and we were HERE. In Chicago!

Finally, after a scrumptious dinner, eyes glued to CNN as the early voting results rolled in, the four of us found ourselves on the El, headed downtown. On the train, the excitement and optimism were palpable. Everyone texted back and forth with friends, capturing election updates, sharing information with new-found friends all around them. We were on the train when I found out that Obama took Ohio. I was elated. It made up for the depression I'd felt when my home state had re-elected Bush; when I'd felt that my vote for John Kerry hadn't counted; when I was embarrassed to admit that I was an Ohioan. This night, I was proud of my state, and of my country. I have always been grateful to live in the United States, but I have not often felt proud of my country. It was a new experience. And I savored it.

Emptying out of the train, we headed up to the packed streets, where that same anticipation we'd felt on the El was now emanating from thousands of people. On every corner, vendors were selling overpriced Obama wares (I bought a pink T-shirt proclaiming, "Obama President 2008" after haggling with the seller), and Dunkin Donuts provided us all with free donuts. It felt like some kind of carnival, only there weren't many kids. Just excitement everywhere.

When we finally poured into the grassy area of Grant Park (the part not reserved for ticket-holders [those lucky dogs!]), we all vied for spots close to the jumbotrons. But people weren't aggressive. Again, a sense of solidarity swept through the crowd. It was a shock to all of us when, shortly after staking out our spots, Obama was declared the winner. It happened so fast! We all remembered 2004, when we'd gone to bed uncertain who'd won the election. Waiting and waiting for official counts. This time it just happened. Smoothly. As if there had never been a doubt that Obama would become our next president.

The crowd erupted and immediately I knew that I had no concerns for my safety. I have never seen so many people crammed into such a small space be so happy and so unabashedly display their elation. I felt it like electricity through my whole body. I felt like a Christmas tree.

We were all relatively respectful during McCain's speech, considering the circumstances, but could not wait to hear from Obama. If his win seemed swift, the anticipation of his speech seemed to last for eons. It seemed as though we heard words spilling from all these mouths that didn't matter, and we only wanted to hear one man speak. And when he finally did, all of us struggled to keep it together--I couldn't restrain my tears, and as I looked around, I saw moisture spilling from so many eager eyes. One man weaved through the crowd just sobbing, reaching out to people around him, unable to contain his emotion. We all understood that what was happening was a momentous change for our country. Obama fed our starved spirits with hope for our future and the future of our children. It sounds cliche, but he was a beacon of hope, shining light out on every one of us. This is not an exaggeration. The tears, smiles, emotion, and widespread good will radiating from every square inch of the park proved it.