The Big Day

January 20, 2009 - Maulana

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Today was the day I had been waiting for since I had first heard the rumors about the dynamic junior senator who spoke at the 2004 Democratic National Convention. I saw President Obama deliver that speech, I heard the overwhelming response the speech elicited from the audience, and I was moved beyond all measure that night more than four years ago.

I had absolutely no idea that evening would lead to this morning. I did not sleep last night; instead, I wrote and reflected on this trip. I left before the sun made its appearance this morning in an effort to secure myself a good position in the mass of people who had been assembling in the National Mall since early last night.

I was immediately struck by the amount of young people on the train. There were high school students from all over the country on the train. Some of the people on the train were studying the train maps to see which stops would put them closest to the National Mall. Some were asking for directions (to little or no avail, since the majority of the people on the train were from out of town). Faculty chaperones were giving the strictest directives they could muster in the face of these excited and jubilant students. I imagined this one train car to be a microcosm of the activity going on all over Washington, D.C.

There are no words to explain the sheer quantity of people. The amount of people was amazing in and of itself. Literally, thousands of people on every block walking in the same direction turned out for the same reason: to see the swearing in of our country's 44th president.

I stood on the National Mall surrounded by people I had never met before but who would be ingrained in the landscape of my memory forever because of today. The multitude gathered, endured and waited. While we waited, we talked, we cheered, we sang and at times, we even danced to the music from Sunday's "We Are One" concert. Who would have thought that Garth Brooks singing "Shout!" could bring millions of people together.

The first cheer rang out at the sight of the presidential limousine. The second, far louder and more sustained, was for the appearance of Sasha and Malia. The third, nearly deafening in its pitch, was for Michelle Obama. And the fourth, which could not be contained, which had been building since November 4, was for our president-elect.

That noise and excitement was a sharp contrast to the atmosphere during Rev. Warren's invocation. All heads bowed and all voices hushed, not because we believed the same but because we hoped and hope for the safety and well-being of this country and all its citizens by birth or providence. Tears came to my eyes as I was surrounded by the voices of so many calling out to their respective God for protection of that family seated before us, because that's what they are at the base of it all, a family.

If the swearing-in embodied the transition in leadership, the inaugural speech embodied the renewed and revised mission of the transition and the country as a whole. This was not the "soaring rhetoric" of the campaign trail, this was not the groundswell of emotion rooted in promises for tomorrow, this was a steeled and honest leader preparing his charges for the struggle, the fight, and the victory to come.

Every generation will have its defining moment, a seminal moment, a shift in ideologies that distinguishes that generation from its predecessors. People from my parents' generation always reference the march on Washington. Well, this was my generation's march on Washington. You did not need to be physically present in Washington, D.C. to be a part of our generation's march. The march began long before this cold January morning, before November 4, before Super Tuesday. The march began the day we saw Barack Obama in 2004 speak to us and our generation about the country we knew we could have, the country we knew we wanted to recreate...for all, with all, and by all.

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