It was insanity. Complete chaos. It took a half hour just to get out of the Metro—in Chinatown, no less, about a mile away from the area to which my tickets supposedly entitled me entry. I didn’t even get to lay my eyes on the man himself, Mr. Barack Obama, the 44th President of the United States. (For a full description of the ordeal with the crowd, see my last post.)
But that wasn’t what inauguration was really about. Just like standing in line yesterday for the tickets I barely got to use, it was about being there, being a part of the seething millions who greeted this day together. And even though I didn’t see the man himself (except for his distant image on a jumbotron), I did, in a sense, see the real Obama: all of those people who came to show their support for the change that finally came.
The way I see it, we are Obama. His election is about us, coming together as American people and rejecting the politics of fear and division. Thinking independently enough that we could elect someone from outside any political dynasty, with the middle name of Hussein, with limited national experience and an attitude that, in the end, we’re all in this together. Continue reading →