She heard a bump, some rustling, maybe some munching, a stray giggle. Nothing too strange, but definitely something odd and out of the ordinary.
But today that changed. Today I saw rich white people, and poor black people, and middle incomed gay people, and thugs, and felons who just realized they could vote, and stars, and icons, and local celebrities, and church mothers, and pagans, and Catholics, and Protestants, and Jews, and Gentiles, and just about everyone come together and get the first African American president elected to our country. And the best part wasn't just that he was elected, but that so many people from so many walks of life were happy about it! Not just happy, but ecstatic, and hopeful, and wonderfully optimistic about a new tomorrow, about change, about finally being given the reigns to freedom with a pass good for the next four years.
It won't be perfect, and there will be missteps I'm sure, but our President's failures will be marked with our ownership as much as his accomplishments. His win wasn't just a win for him, but a win for this country. A win for the little kids who are going to grow up in a world where a minority being a politician is not just a fanciful myth, but an actuality! Dare I say it, a NORMAL THING! Do you realize that you won't be able to tell minorities NOTHING! You can't tell us that we can't ANYTHING because WE CAN DO ANYTHING! Even be president, you see. Barrack did it. Or should I say, President Barrack Hussein Obama.
Isn't it amazing? Aren't you amazed? When they announced it I couldn't believe it. I couldn't breath. I called Juanita and got her boyfriend who told me she was asleep.
"Ooh, so she doesn't know yet?" I asked him. He laughed a little bit and said, "Naw, she doesn't know, she was so tired out from the day (she was also exit polling) she went to sleep."
"WAKE HER UP!!" and she came to the phone groggy and slurred until I told her the news,
"Nina! Are you awake? Did you hear? Obama won! Obama's the President!" Nina soon perked up and deopped the phone out of excitement. Out of shock, and awe, and unexpected elation. My friend Noreen is half Pakistani and half Indian and she said to me today, "You know Stacey, I was born here, but this is the first time that I've felt truly like I'm an American. Like I belong and I'm proud to be here. Does that makes sense?" And of course it shouldn't make sense, but it completely does on every level. There's such a comfort found in melancholy, but it's one that's misleading. You tell yourself you're happy because being actually happy means too much pain, disappointment, and fighting. To believe in the power of someone fighting for you who has none of your best interests at hand is akin to bailing out a leaky boat with a collander. It doesn't work. But to be able to band together with those who struggle with you to elect a man who not only shares your interests, but lavishes in the honor of fighting for them is waterproofing the boat before it makes its next voyage.
It's a beautiful thing, and today's beautiful day just added to the atmosphere. We were all scared and worried, and some of us still are. But we're learning not to live that way, to be able to hold our heads high finally and look each other in the eye and say, "Thank You".
I have so much more to say, and I may soon, but for now I'm going to sleep and keep on celebrating until January 20th and beyond. Goodnight LiveJournal, goodnight America. I'm proud of you.
""shout out to the slave masters. without them, we'd still be in africa." - soulja boy."
please blog about this!
I got this in my inbox and I sighed a huge sigh which if you know anything about me and how I like to go on may seem a little odd. This has all the things that I like to blog about: race, stupidity, hot messedness, and of course, Soulja Boy Tell Em shananigans. I know you've never seen these posts my friends, this is what draft and private entries are for. There are some things I can't let loose and one of those things is my utter fascination with SBTE.
First off, that name! What is that all about? Why not just Soulja Boy? And while the spelling is cutesy (I half expected an "i" in place of the "y" in "Boy"), it's pretty ineffectual as Soulja Boy Tell Em has the least soulful sound in Hip-Hop. His voice is dulcet and monotone and you can never really tell when he's happy, when he's mad, or anything. Maybe this is to do with him being a "Soulja" and stone cold and anonymous with his emotions, but I gather it's more to do with him being an idiot.
That said, his songs are catchy as crap. Yes, I did the Soulja Boy and asked every within earshot, "Excuse me sir, but might I ask? Why me you crank that Soulja Boy?" and though met with groans of disappointment or restraining order glances, I never gave up. Y'all know me, if there is a fad afoot, I will run it into the ground. I got silly until the wheels fell off! I had a donk! I... I don't know, whatever other Soulja Boy stuff was out? I did it.
And it was fun, I can't deny it, but that's how I am with candy rappers. They entertain me in brief, fixated segments and then they melt into the background until the next time. Several past entertainers have followed this code with great success. Lil Jon, Mike Jones, EVERYTHING by Plies! They do their music and they shut up and they go home and roll in the money that I inevitably dig out for them. Most importantly though, THEY DON'T TALK!
And this is where the beef between Soulja Boy Tell Em and I start. Now granted, most of it is complete garbage. His and Ice Tea's battle mainly consisted of the following:
Ice Tea: Man, even though I had one major rap song out, that was kind of terrible. And even though I pretty much put heavy metal into everything. And even though I'm a pimp and haven't even listened to Hip Hop in 30 years. That Soulja Boy? He's trash!
Soulja Boy: Yeah? Well Ice Tea is old! Old #%$ #$T%$#!!! He's old! You should be called luke warm tea!
Soulja Boy's Posse: Yeah! Heh, old, heh, old, heh, yeah, we'rewastingourlives old!
Ice Tea: He said what? What's the internets? My arthritis is actin' up. Where's Coco? Tell her to bring my inhaler. Where am I?
Soulja Boy: Shut up old man!
And aside from dissing one of the most awesome video games ever (or so I was told by Phil, my awesome coworker), he's been pretty harmless. Then he comes out with this mess:
...Then came Soulja Boy Tell Em. I asked him, “What historical figure do you most hate?” He was stumped. I said, “Others have said Hitler, bin Laden, the slave masters …” He said, “Oh wait! Hold up! Shout out to the slave masters! Without them we’d still be in Africa! We wouldn't be here to get this ice and tattoos."
Nigga what?! Where you think the ice you got on your fingers come from you simple jack lookin' motherf-
And this is why I couldn't talk about it. Because I descent in slave era pejoratives and nonsensical justifications. I can barely even finish this post because the only thing sadder than Soulja Boy Tell Em saying this mess, is the fact that it's a pretty viral estimation of the black experience in America. From blacks more than whites it seems!
This weird bass ackwards estimation that even though slavery was awful and the ramifications from it can still be felt today, somehow we should be thankful we're in effing America and not in Africa where you guys? Things are hard!
Nope, there's no wealth or culture in Africa. You've seen the TV spots with poor demaciated children from Africa, that could be you! But you know what could also be you? The poor demaciated child in Detroit. Or the kid whose family can't afford health care in Vermont. Or the family in frickin' Idaho that lost their house.
I just... it just pisses me off beyond all else that someone who inhabits the small percentage of ridiculously wealthy Americans has the hott mess nerve to attribute that to slavery! Are you kidding me? The holy hell Soulja Boy!? You came from effing nothing and the second you get some money you tie that success to being in America due to slavery?! How did this happen? How did we get here? How did we lose utter and complete sight of HOW THINGS ARE that we're making up ridiculous self mocking notions of WHO WE ARE and WHERE WE COME FROM?
When did we start looking as the positive aspects of slavery and who gave permission to start talking about them? Because honestly people? Without slavery? BLACK PEOPLE WOULD STILL BE HERE! Except maybe we would have come over as doctors and lawyers and business people. Maybe we would have our own sections of the city where people would come to experience our culture and marvel about how their lives were enrichened by our presence. Maybe we'd be multilingual. Maybe we'd have a strong tie to our roots and maybe our family trees wouldn't stop at "A plantation somewhere in Georgia".
Maybe we'd be proud and industrious and maybe we'd be the richest of the rich and wear bling and tattoos instead of welts and brands. Maybe. Probably. Who knows? What I do know is that I'm at the end of my rope when it comes to suffering that much concentrated foolishness, but I'm at the beginning of being able to do anything about it. Our youth is so out of touch and there are ways that's good. When it comes to respecting people on all levels and working togather and cooperating. But there are ways that are bad, when you open your mouth and spew the same nonsense that validates everything bad anyone has ever said about you in one fell swoop.
Is it out responsibility to school them? Sure, on a certain level, but since no one I know is that blindingly stupid, I'll just post my rant to you oh Vox, and you'll pass on the word, right?
