In Memory of the 2008 Election...

I can't really think of anything better with which to start my blog than something on the 2008 election. Even though it's well past by the time I write this, it was still a momentous event for me, and, I think, my generation and my country. Here's the note I wrote to some family members describing where I was when "IT" happened:

Here in Buenos Aires, I was watching CNN until 5 AM, my Obama button from the Hillsdale Democrats gleaming on my chest as I watched my country choose its course with my fellow estadounidenses in a crowded expat bar. The suffocating heat of bodies and the chaos of shouts and breaking glasses might have been a trial in other circumstances; on this night, it was an invigorating experience of "collective effervescence." How ecstatic the crowd was as the countdown to 8 PM PST--and that promised land of the West Coast votes--began. Everyone knew what would happen by then, but that didn't diminish the sense of awe. Our disbelief could only find release with the announcement of Obama's victory. Then the roar began, and lasted until most of us no longer had the voices to carry it further. Here was a group of people genuinely proud of their country for the first time in recent memory, or, as many were young, for the first time in their lives.

When we sang the "Star-Spangled Banner" after the roar had died down (somehow finding enough vocal reserve to last us through a verse), it was among the most moving collective moments I'd ever experienced. A dreadfully militaristic song, if you really think about it, but then it didn't matter. All that mattered was the message of hope and rewarded perseverance Key's words held aloft, a message which had found a new life in what we'd just witnessed. And the young man from Iceland next to me, the man from Ireland in front of me, the woman from Argentina behind me--they all sang it too. It wasn't just her own citizens who were newly proud of the United States then--it was the world's citizens, a tiny drop of them gathered with me there in that barroom. "How good it is to be able to love your country for once, as my parents did," a Brit told me. (Needless to say, I was also the beneficiary of many complementary drinks from those world citizens over the next couple of hours).

I stayed through McCain's graceful concession, and Obama's shining acceptance, and just long enough to see the projected victory of a crook in Alaska and a bigoted ballot measure in California and be reminded that even in its best moments democracy isn't perfect. But for a little while there boy did it seem close