Hello Mr. President

I know I have done a terrible job of keeping up to date with Roman’s blog, but I have good reason. I initially planned on making sure I brought everyone up to speed on the last few months of his life before I started talking about all the new and exciting things he is into now, but those are “the best laid plans of Mice and Men”. Now I’m just happy when I get an extra hour in my life to shave my legs and try to get my uni-brow handled. Thank GOD for Daylight savings time!

As much as I have stalled by trying to do a summation of the last few months, last night’s events cannot be delayed even by my insane need for order. Maurice and I spent the evening watching the election of the first ever African-American President – President-Elect Barack Obama.

Despite what had been weeks of the nation hearing that Obama was all but a lock for the presidency, last night still had an overly emotional effect on millions of Americans who see his candidacy, campaign and ultimately his election as a sign of what we truly can accomplish in this country when we live out the values we so often claim to ascribe to. It was historic for all the obvious reasons and for many that are not. It showed what we as a people can do while also highlighting that many needed his election to understand what is truly possible. It gave hope because it reminded so many of how hopeless we once were. And it transcended race because, in watching the sea of faces that decorated Grant Park for his acceptance speech, no one could say they did not see themselves in at least one of those in attendance. I don’t know about your household, but mine was full of tears and expectancy.

While all of this was going on, my 7 ½ month old son was asleep upstairs in his crib. I tried to keep him awake long enough to see some of the monumental moments, but anyone who has tried to keep an infant awake knows it’s a lost cause. Instead, I was content with visiting his bedside and praying over my son, as I do every night. But this night, I added a silent prayer for Malia and Sasha Obama, whose father has ascended to the highest office in the land, making them open for praise but more likely for criticism and condemnation. I prayed that any hatred or bias that people held would melt away when they realize that we all pretty much want the same things in life. A chance to succeed, a community to embrace and an opportunity to give our families something even better than we could have ourselves.

I headed to bed thinking that, after all is said and done, the unity and opportunities for minorities that was almost unthinkable in many's eyes would now not only be acceptable but (dare I say it) expected of his generation. That is a lot to place on the shoulders of tommorow's youth. But they come from good stock and will be raised with the role models so many others did not have, so I suspect that they will be just fine.