President Barack Obama

My own political views aside, today was an astoundingly historic day, . . . and one that I wanted my two girls to say they were there for. I had spent days thinking about how I was going to handle this event, . . . and how to present it to a six-year-old, . . . but I finally figured out the best way for our family:

During Annie's nap, Leia Rose and I had a very intimate pow-wow where I explained the evils of slavery: what it was, why it was evil, where it happened, and why it happened. Leia Rose commented that she had read a book about Harriet Tubman at Artgarden and always wondered, as a result, what slavery was. In addition, Leia Rose and I have been avidly reading the American Girl books together, . . . and Addy is the next one. Addy is a slave who escapes to freedom in Philadelphia. A perfect follow-up to today's festivities. So, I brought out that book, and read the little excerpt to her. Then I got out the novel Roots, and read a little bit about Kunta Kinte being abducted on the coast of Gambia. Finally, I got out the DVDs of Roots, . . . and showed her a few of the most horrible parts. (Leia, as you know, is afraid of monsters, . . . not human atrocities.) Kunta's capture, his escapes, . . . and one particular result of an escape. There is one part of Roots where a young Kunta escapes from slavery, runs until he cannot run anymore, and then is caught by dogs and overseers. He is then dragged back to the plantation and made to say his "new" name, Toby. Each time he refuses, Kunta is whipped. Leia Rose was concerned, . . . very concerned. But she now understood what slavery was. The reason why I wanted her to see this particular part is that, as Kunta barely hangs on to consciousness as he is lowered down from the whipping post, Fiddler (who is fast becoming his friend) comforts him by saying, "There's gonna' be another day."

And I told Leia Rose, . . . "THIS is the day that Fiddler was talking about. Today the first African American was sworn in as President of the United States."

Then all three of us watched Barack Obama's inauguration together.

I struggled with how to end this post. Although I am filled with sadness and fear for many reasons, I choose to cling to the hope shown by a good friend in a letter to her children not yet born, . . . and ending with the same words, . . . the words of the poet, Elizabeth Alexander, who read a beautiful poem on this Inauguration day:


What if the mightiest word is love,
love beyond marital, filial, national.
Love that casts a widening pool of light.
Love with no need to preempt grievance.
In today's sharp sparkle, this winter air,
anything can be made, any sentence begun.
On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp --
praise song for walking forward in that light.