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I cried the night Barack Obama was elected President.
Tears of joy released the exhaustion
which I had carried door-to-door
for more than a year to those who too often
defiled all courtesy and shared community
with unrecognized racism, or even with vile threats,
as I pleaded for their vote for HOPE.
While my colleagues cheered with broad smiles
I lay my head in my arms and sobbed.
And, when they asked why I cried
I replied
“The backlash will be fierce
by those who now recognize that white power
is no longer strong enough to support their hate.”
It was clear my fellow citizens would not long tolerate
power in the hands of an African-American.
The rage would be unleashed and revealed
from where it had lain hidden
within our neighborhoods and institutions.
From that day on every African-American child
born after this date would enter a world where
dreams could be fulfilled, no matter how wild.
I rejoiced at this change of perspective,
but knew this would be just too much for a nation
whose history was built on white male supremacy.
Two steps forward. One step back. Progress moves
on and off-track until we wonder if we must go back.
We are not going back, just reconnoitering to find a new track.
That night, I dried my tears and planned my attack
ready to fight what I knew was coming and who would lead,
those who would block our progress at every turn
willing to let the country suffer and burn,
willing to break laws and undermine elections,
threaten and attack prosecutors and judges,
willing to engage in insurrection.
They have come up from under their rocks and we can see
those who have always threatened our democracy.
We know the way forward and we are strong.
So strong they know they have lost their control and that we
are moving beyond a world where only the good ole’ boys belong.
