Old Glory

I will never forget it.

Driving down 19th Street. Brooklyn, New York. Windows down. Sunny, with blue skies. Singing along with Prince on the radio, “I’m not your lover. I’m not your friend. I’m something that you’ll never comprehend.”

“Are they honking at me?” I asked my daughter. But the honking continued, until every car was honking. People were coming out of their homes, spilling into the streets. They were hanging out of their windows. Cheering, hugging, fists pumping.

“What is going on?” I asked out loud. My daughter wondered with me. Then she got a text. From little Ananda Lou in Texas. “Mom, Biden won Pennsylvania!” Knowing full well what that meant, I dared to hope they had finally called Pennsylvania, but had a hard time believing it as it seemed like the ballot counting would never end.

We turned onto Cortelyou Road and then we heard it. The DJ drowned out Prince. “Joe Biden is the 46th President of the United States of America.”

I will never forget it. Ever. That split second of cognition, absorbing it. The reality. The relief. The subsequent joy giving way to tangible, living, electric hope.

We honked. We cheered. We hung out of the car windows. We parked the car and took it to the street, celebrating with our community. While we were Black, White, Latinx, Asian, Indian, Native American, male, female, gender neutral, LGBTQ, and so much more, we were none of those things. Because for that moment we were simply Americans.

Strangers, yet in the moment friends, popped a bottle of champagne. They offered me a glass. I politely declined. Then quickly changed my mind. “If I don’t toast with you guys, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.” They laughed and poured a glass for me. Six feet apart, we toasted “Freedom.” We toasted “Basic Human Decency.” We toasted “The Constitution.”

I watched my daughter cheer. It was in that instant that I realized we were cheering in part for a woman. The first female Vice President of the United States of America. We were cheering for Kamala Harris.

As a woman, a woman who was raised by a single mother, a woman who is a mother to mixed-race sons and daughters, a woman who is married to a Black man, I felt it. Deep, deep down, I felt it. There aren’t really words for it. But y’all know what I’m talking about. It’s like that door opened. You know the one.

Driving home, we came up on a red Coupe de Ville. The driver waved the American flag. And I was struck by something. Once again. After so long. It was Gratitude. Reverence. Pride. All rolled into one. The Pledge of Allegiance went round in my head. Its promise. Ever closer. Closer today than yesterday. And God help us, closer tomorrow than the day before. For my sons and my daughters, for my neighbors and countrymen…

Liberty and justice for all.