Oh come on, you know you want to be singing the song.
I went and stood in line this morning, trying hard to keep the big ol’ face-splitting smile on low. How lovely was it to be voting in a predominantly black neighborhood today?
- To see all those shades of the Diasporan rainbow coming out to cast their ballots.
- To walk up to the school with a little group of elderly ladies who were glowing with the pleasure of getting to vote today.
- To see everyone in such a great mood, chatting and laughing and, in one funny case, dancing in their joy of this day.
- To see people taking their children into the booths.
- To see one girl give her mother a big, exuberant hug when they came through the curtain.
- To hear a little girl announce as she and her mom walked away from the booth, “I pulled it all by myself!”
- To see so many very young, very new voters standing tall in line.
- To see so many elderly African Americans making their way into the booths with canes, with walkers, with caregivers’ supporting arms. “I wouldn’t have missed this for anything,” one woman told me.
- My favorite was seeing a black man, maybe in his early 50s, step into the booth. We heard that big lever slide over, heard the clicks of the small levers, and then we heard him shout “WooHoo!” as he pulled the big lever back and stepped out of the booth with a smile.
This has been a beautiful, emotional, ecstatic day. I teared up many times, but my joy held the crying at bay.
I haven’t cried yet, but I can feel it coming. When this thing is called …