Hope

This time last week, my heart was beating with nervous anticipation. We were all merely one day away from bringing to an end one of the longest campaigns in US history and electing the 44th president.

24 hours after uncertainty sent my heart into a nervous pitter-patter tears swam in my eyes during Obama's acceptance speech. Four years ago on election night I went to bed with a heavy heart, but looking back it seems far less things hung in the balance at the time. Last week, however, it seemed that the future of America was at stake--would this be the night when we, as citizens, make another grave mistake by sending the wrong person to the Oval Office? No. This year we chose to herald the return of reason and, dare I say it, intellectualism to America. Last week, I cried because I was filled with the hope and optimism that had escaped this country recently, and because the system works. A candidate won the presidency in both the popular and electoral vote, a definitive statement that yes, we believe in change, and yes, we can. Last week, I cried because I saw the man who I voted for win an election that I care deeply about and last week, I cried because it was an historical night.

After wiping away the tears we joined the crowds in the streets, just as there were crowds in New York, in DC, and, surely, across the country.

Mere feet from my old doorstep we found the revelers, climbing on street posts, dancing to drum circles and brass bands, shouting, hugging, and high-fiving.


This, already 3 hours after the results came in.


The excitement in the air was tangible, that night and through into the next morning. Today that excitement remains, somewhat tempered with the ever-darkening financial horizons, but still there. I imagine it will grow back into a frenzy around Inauguration Day, and I do so very hope that we will continue to feel so optimistic in the coming years.