Do You Hear the People Sing?

"Do you hear the people sing, singing a song of angry men?
It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again.
When the beating of your heart echoes the beating of the drums,
There is a life about to start when tomorrow comes!"

For a few weeks now, I have had the songs from Les Miz running through my head at all hours of the day and night. Some nights they keep me awake. I find myself singing silently as I struggle to sleep. Well, I can't purge the music; nor do I want to. I spent Tuesday night in Grant Park, Chicago, with a quarter million others and I felt that we were a revolution of sorts. A peaceful revolution. A convergence of disparate souls with a common goal. Reaching, reaching, reaching for two years now...on the campaign trail...in our homes...at schools...at work...on the streets of our cities...we and the millions and millions of other Obama supporters around the globe who are finished with traditional American government. And now, finally, thankfully, we can move on to reformation and renaissance. It was a balmy sixty-plus degrees that evening. Quite warm for a November night in the windy city. A sign? Perhaps. I believe so. Call me crazy, I don't care! I have been on the Obama bandwagon for nearly two years. I volunteered as a precinct captain in L.A. after meeting the Senator at an event at a friend's house. His election is the culmination of a lot of hard work...on phones, going door-to-door, raising money, co-hosting events, convincing Hillary supporters to come aboard, and mostly a lot of emotion...which all poured out on Tuesday night...five...four...three...two...one...CNN calls it for Obama! A mass of tears and cheering and hugs and flag-waving and furiously Blackberrying friends and family all over the globe...my sister, a CNN camerawoman, at Bagram AFB in Afghanistan, my friends back in L.A., my girlfriend in Paris...we were all swept up in the moment and when Barack took the stage and gave his first address as President-elect...the elation of the crowd was palpable and I know he saw it...he got it...he understood.

photo credits: Ken Solomon