The Observer
When asked if I can vote in the U.S. I usually say: No, I’m only a card-carrying alien…and indeed the plastic rectangle, known as the green card, states "Resident Alien” in bright green letters.
It entitles its bearer to all privileges granted to U.S. citizens, except for one: the right to vote. This puts me, every four years, in the interesting position of an observer, while everyone around is consumed with worry, hope, or anything in between.
The Pre-Election Talk
"He seems like a very interesting man," said a fellow Kindergarten mom two years ago, after reading the autobiography of a little known African American politician. It was the first time I heard the name Barak Obama.
As our children moved into first grade the race between Obama and Hilary Clinton was in full swing. My liberal friends were divided between supporting an African American and supporting a woman. It seemed that the actual people behind these labels mattered less (though none of the 'thinking people' would admit this).
My email box was flooded with petitions. In addition to supporting either Clinton or Obama, there were emails of a third kind. They went something like this: "Why I think you should vote for Hilary, even though I am voting for Obama.”
The writer was a woman who supported Obama’s politics, but thought that "we” (the email recipients) should back up Hilary because of the enormity of the fact that a woman was racing for presidency.
Goodies Vs Baddies
The election was around the corner and the children were in 2nd grade. A lot of them were now clued-in to what was happening. Parents, watching the debates on TV, found it an opportunity to grant their children an education in democracy.
Being 2nd graders, the kids neatly piled everything into 'Goodies' and 'Baddies' in their minds.
In our liberal region this translated into: "Hey, Hey, John McCain/ John McCain has lost his brain," coming out of 8-year-olds entering the school yard in the mornings leading to the elections.
People could hardly sleep at night. Adults who would otherwise be striving for inner peace, going to yoga classes, attempting to be centered in their parenting, were now frantically oscillating between a paralyzing fear that ‘we’ will loose yet another election, and the elated hope that the world could actually change on Tuesday, November 4, 2008.
Obama Frenzy
There was so much emotion vested in this election that it looked like people will literally die if Obama didn’t win, or at least head toward dungeons of depression. This roller coaster didn’t sweep over everyone. People who felt a need to focus their hopes gathered in small circles to meditate, pray, and visualize.
Others, in vast numbers, marched through central San Francisco in an extravagant, costumed, ecstatic, victory-spell-casting rally. Despite the fact that the organizers were unable to obtain legal permission for the march, friends who attended it reported that the police not only allowed them to proceed, but actually held traffic for them. This was San Francisco, after all…
Unable to vote, I wondered how much elections mattered in the grand scheme, on the evolutionary journey of human consciousness. Very little, I suspected, yet couldn’t help but be affected by the pregnant possibility of change.
Obama Victory
My partner and I went to sleep without knowing who won. Living without a TV, and not tuned into media, we thought it could wait till the morning. The parents at the school yard were euphoric (the only network we ever needed). People talked of being up all night in celebration parties, and repeatedly congratulated each other, almost in disbelief: "we did it!” The strong emphasis on "we” and "us” was new. There was a sense of unity on one hand, herd on the other, both rather alien to the liberal left.
"I’m proud to be an American” was the common statement out of the mouths of people who never dreamed of feeling like this, let alone saying it. A fellow Mom spoke of the relief she now feels: "I was lying to my daughter about Iraq,” she said. "Now I can start telling her the truth. I can start raising her as a proud American.”
The wave that swept over those around me felt like a mix of genuine hope, optimism, and inspiration on one hand, combined with nationalism and patriotism they would have despised in their political opponents, on the other.
Mission Possible
I have witnessed four U.S. elections so far. Soon after my partner and I arrived here, Clinton was elected as president of the United States. I remember a similar euphoria in the air. A friend compared Clinton to Johor, a character in Doris Lessing’s excellent social fantasy book, ‘Shikasta.’
An emissary from the future with a task to fulfill on Earth, Johor is all but asleep to his mission. He aimlessly carries a meaningless existence, absorbed in everyday life. A triumphant awakening jolts him back to remembering his undertaking.
As a result he gladly and purposefully pursues his responsibilities and plays his part in the evolution of human consciousness.
Bill Clinton did not prove to be a Johor. Millions of people are now hoping Barak Obama might. Would emissaries with a role to play in human evolution manifest in the political arena of all places? Why not? It’s as good a place as any.
DeAnna L’am, author of Becoming Peers – Mentoring Girls Into Womanhood, is an educator, trainer, and facilitator. Visit her at www.deannalam.com