My best find of the day online was a link to some 1980 era photos of Barack Obama in college. The pictures, which are featured in Time magazine's Person of the Year edition, are amazing. He was one cool dude (still is). Actually, I think he looks completely adorable in those old photos. This is a sure sign I am getting older -- that I can look at photos of a hot, young college kid and think "adorable." Sigh.
My 25 year old son told me not long before the election that I was an Obama groupie. Not true. At all. My excitement about his possible election was just shy of fanaticism, but fell (and falls) well short of groupie status. I think my son was just getting sick of all the articles and photos I kept sending him, and didn't want to read the copy of "Dreams From My Father" I bought for him -- he thought it was boring.
Truth be told, it wasn't just that we actually were maybe going to really elect an African American man as our next president -- it was the biracial thing that put me over the top.
My son was the recipient of much of my unbridled enthusiasm:
"He's biracial, just like you!" (Stating the obvious... )
"He has a white mom, just like you!" (Again...)
"He had identity issues growing up, just like you!" (To which my son said, "Whatever Ma, you trippin'!!")
"Look how he uses his multicultural experiences to his advantage, like I keep telling you to do!" (Ok, I was getting a little passive aggressive)
No wonder he thought I had lost it. We've (meaning all of us who are part of the multiracial family tribe) just never had such a rock star role model success story before. How could I not be a little ga-ga?
Since the election, I've been feeling strangely protective -- even maternal -- about Obama (another sign of aging?). Even while I loved seeing the photos today (it took me about 30 seconds to post them on Facebook), I was mad at Lisa Jack, the photographer, for releasing them. The first thing I thought was, "Did she ask Obama if it was ok? Does he really want the world to see photos of him posing, smoking, acting like he's all that just as he is about to get inaugurated?" I would hate that myself, even if I looked good, like he does.
And, oddly, I am really sad for Obama that he doesn't get to use his Blackberry anymore, and can't send personal emails.* I never cared about what other people sacrificed to be president, but I do now. I want him to still get to walk to the barber like he always did and get his haircut and talk basketball with the guys. Obviously, he knew all this going into running for president, but I just feel bad for him and for his whole family. They are giving up a lot for us.
I'm not quite sure what to make of all these excessive emotions and how personal this is for me, and for so many other folks. I think the planet itself is still reeling, maybe right out of orbit, from the simultaneous release of unabashed joy and excitement from millions of peoples' hearts on election night. For a thousand different reasons the world changed that day.
After surviving years of craziness, we've elected a brilliant, compassionate, utterly sane and thoughtful person to one of the most powerful positions in the world. And he is "family." Imagine that.
* Update Jan. 22. President Obama gets to keep his Blackberry! I really can't imagine a 21st century president locked out of electronic communication. Especially this one.
A video clip from our election-return watching party during Obama's speech in Grant Park. The image is from the TV but listen for our comments in the background:
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