I don’t normally talk about my political views but I am compelled to speak up and talk about how yesterday’s election effected me. Last night while Ramses and I sat and watched the election results roll in my heart swelled with pride. And by the time Obama was making his acceptance speech I was in tears and realizing that never in my life was I more proud to be an American.
This was the third presidential election of my adult life… but this was the first time I exercised my right to vote. The majority of my 20’s have been spent either not caring enough to educate myself on politics or feeling like my vote did not matter enough to be “bothered.” However, I have been following this race for the better part of this year. It was Obama with his amazing oratory skills and message of hope that moved me enough to care. Also, for the first time the state of our country is effecting my personal life. With the decline of the economy and the housing crisis Ramses and I have faced the fear of losing our jobs which would lead to losing all we’ve worked for- the need for change is great. For these reasons I marked my ballot for Barack Obama. Time will tell if the country truly made the right choice but I have never been more optimistic.
The fact that Barack Obama is black, or more accurately racially mixed is an amazingly wonderful and historically important “side note” if you will. For me his race was unimportant, it was his philosophy and message that won my vote. But electing a black man as our leader is too important to overlook and must be celebrated. This is a victory for all who fought and still fight for civil rights. Witnessing and being part of this historic decision takes my breath away.
I grew up in a household that taught tolerance above all things. My mother was born in Tennessee and moved to California as a teenager. She grew up in the fifties and sixties and her family, like most others of the era, were racist. Her first marriage was to a white man and resulted in two white children. Her second marriage was to a Filipino man and resulted in a “half-breed”… that would be me. When she informed her family that she was pregnant and marrying a man outside her race their only questions were “Is he dark?” and “Will the baby be dark?” Needless to say, I have never met my mother’s side of the family.
When I was 7 years old my mother met Charlie. They were never married but I considered him my stepfather. We lived as a family for 7 years- my prime growing up years. My mother stayed with him off and on for another 4 years after he moved out. It wasn’t always peaceful but he was there for me when my own father abandoned me. Also, he bought me a horse… what little girl could resist a horse?
Charlie was born in 1933 in Atlanta, GA. It goes without saying what life was like in the South for blacks during that time. To make matters worse his grandmother was white and of his four siblings he was the only one born with the light skin and green eyes. He faced racism from both whites and blacks. After his father abandoned the family, his mother literally went crazy and gave away her children to her sisters. Charlie went to live with an Aunt who physically abused him and reminded him daily that he was not like the rest of the family. She forced him to work all night doing the “white folks’” laundry so that he could deliver them early in the morning before school. He would often times fall asleep on the side of the road and never make it to class. This was his life from ages 6 to 13 at which point he ran away. He fought to survive and with only a 5th grade education I can only imagine just what a feat that was.
The way he was raised effected the way he raised me. I came to understand his struggles through his stories and by the way he treated myself and my mother. His was strict and could be mean but I am who I am due in part to what he brought to my life. I adored him as a girl and resented him as a teenager… he was my father after all that’s sort of the way it works. When he and my mother started having trouble she moved back to California after living with him for two years in Georgia. Shortly after I got a cryptic phone call from him. He just wanted to tell me that he loved my mother and always would and that I had always been his best friend. He died of cancer 3 months later, one day after his 65th birthday, I was 18.
While listening to Obama’s speech last night I thought of Charlie and the life he lived and I wished he were still here to see how far this country has come.
I have always felt strongly about the civil rights movement in our country. From a very early age I recognized that injustice and inequality existed around me. Whether that knowledge came from my very liberal mother, being a mixed-race person myself, or from my stepfather who endured extreme prejudice first hand, I can’t say. But I can say that electing a black president is a huge step in becoming a truly tolerate society.
The fight for civil rights is far from over though. With the apparent passing of Prop 8 the majority of Califorians voted to take away basic human rights that are protected by our Constitution. It’s a bittersweet day for those who believe in equality for all. It is my sincere hope that the people who felt compelled to stand on street corners supporting a proposition that discriminated against others see the error in their ways. The fact of the matter is that they are wrong just like the supporters of the old Jim Crow Laws were wrong. And although discrimination disguised as religious freedom (and funded by the Mormons of Utah… why should people of another state have a say in our laws!?) won this time I am confident that we will keep moving forward as a people and that the gay and lesiban community will soon have the same rights as the rest of us.
