America's Top Knight

Yesterday, Barack Hussein Obama was inaugurated as the 44th President of the United States -- as if you needed me to tell you that. It was probably one of the most publicly viewed inaugurations of all time, and certainly the most by far in my own lifetime. I confess, it was the first time I have ever cared enough to watch. One of my own housemates was among the throng of some 2 million witnesses to the event live in D.C., braving freezing temperatures overnight that they might catch a glimpse of the ceremony inducting the first beloved politician in decades.  After prayers, songs and oaths were all given, the new President gave his winning smile and waved to the crowd -- certainly the millions gathered thought that wave was just for them.  Later in the day, as the motorcade drove down Pennsylvania Avenue, Obama and his first lady stepped out of their luxury Cadillac to walk a bit, and cameras subsequently caught fans running to keep up with the car in the off chance that their hero, the President, might step out of the car again and acknowledge them.

I am a supporter of Barack Obama and was not shy about casting my vote for him back in November. But as inspiring a speaker, as charming a personality, as well-rounded and diverse a background and as great of a leader and thinker he may be, he is still just a man -- a man I've never met, and a politician at that. I would be so bold as to say that that relationship is true for most of the world that is doting over its newfound obsession.  And yet, when Obama speaks, people not only listen, they cry. 

What this tells me about our country is a few things. I will attempt to generalize here: One, that we have felt so starved of leadership we trust, having so long tolerated leadership (beyond the Bush era) that seemed defensive, deceitful and at times completely nonsensical.  Barack Obama stepped into history at just the right time. Had he come onto the ballot even one term earlier, I don't think our country would have been prepared to put the first half-Black man into office. And as much as I feel for George Bush, who just about became the laughing stock of the world by the end of his presidency, his perfect storm dilemma of multiple red-alert crises and bad leadership decisions made us feel that desperation for something new all the more. 

Two, that for the majority of us out there, Daddy didn't love us the way we needed. Though he may not know it, Obama has been adopted by many as their surrogate fathers. Like our favorite celebrities, he is perfect from afar -- but even more so, because he wants to take care of us. We love his courage to stand up for the ideals of this generation, we love that he thinks like us -- except he's way smarter. We love his humanity, the man seemingly always before the politician. We love that he can adore his wife, talk about his kids' allergies to dogs and address the crashing economy and foreign policy all in one breath. We love that he listens to Stevie Wonder and Jay-Z. He has become the knight in shining armor, the perfect guy saving the day at the end of a cheesy movie, the authority who finally gets us.

As extreme as the hysteria over this one man has become, and as much as I generally oppose extreme hysteria, I, too, have hopes that Obama will be a better leader than anyone we've had in a while. As far as change goes, if Obama's greatest accomplishment is to breathe new hope and excitement in leadership into our country's culture of disrespect and distaste for authority, that is pretty monumental in itself.

New Year of Acceptance

New Year's has always held more personal significance to me than Thanksgiving or Christmas. Though meaningful and special in their own ways, I grew up associating those holidays with concepts like lots of food, or the prospect new toys or gifts -- all good things, but more mature adult concepts like gratefulness and the birth of Jesus never really set in my consciousness fully to replace them. New Year's Day is something that has made more sense to me as an adult: It represents both the end of things and beginning of things at once. It has made me pause and say goodbye to things I've grown out of, and welcome in new hopes and prospects of what may come. It is bittersweet and thankful and reflective.

A year ago today, I received the news that a friend of mine was killed in a tragic car accident. Yesterday, my friends were on my heart and mind, and I think they always will be on New Year's Day. As I look back on the year that followed, I realize that death -- or endings -- was somewhat of a theme that carried throughout. Friends married or drifted, new relationships I had hoped would work out a certain way didn't, and I found myself accepting things as they really were, maybe for the first time. Somehow through it all, I ended the year more at peace, if a little more wistful, than a year ago.

Whatever the new year may bring, I feel more ready to go through it and less afraid of what that may include. I have much to be grateful for, and feel like I have nothing to lose that I cannot keep.