Tuesday, January 20, 2009

my inauguration

Today certainly felt different. I didn't know what to expect from inauguration day, but my expectations weren't high. Not because of the inauguration itself—I couldn't be happier that Obama is finally in office and we can move beyond the Bush presidency—but because I had no appropriate way to celebrate.

No spontaneous crowds, no flag waving, no cheering, no tears, no celebration—at least within getting to. I felt great; so great I wanted to release it all with my friends, shout skyward my profound happiness for our country. I was so proud.

But that release never came. I went about my day, happy but unfulfilled. My girlfriend's text from New York exacerbated the problem. I wanted to be there, with her, with everyone, to share in the glory of this day and what it signifies for the world we all live in.

Instead, I watched the presidential oath with one of my close friends, in his apartment. All of our other friends were in class. (They picked the first day of classes to do this?) While I watched the proceedings, my friend cooked breakfast, ate, got dressed, and—during the oath itself—brushed his teeth, not paying much attention to the ceremony. His company certainly beat watching the inauguration alone at my own place, but it was painfully obvious he did not share my reverence.

The beauty of Obama's campaign has been its capacity to bring people together, people of different races, different generations, and even differnt countries. However, that spirit seemed to fail me today. As I turned off the television, halfway through Obama's inaugurations speech, and rushed to class, I felt deeply alone.


Joe said...

I realize that the timing didn't work out so well, but I had no choice but to get ready when I did. Reverence has little to do with it.

Channing said...

Ha, no I'm not blaming you. It's all cool, fool.