I Have the Audacity to Hope

I wore pants under my jeans, two pairs of socks, three layers of shirts underneath my jacket, ski gloves and boots to match—I was ready for a day of standing outside in the cold and blistery weather with thousands of people watching on a single JumboTron what I could have easily watched comfortably on a television indoors. I knew that many people had planned to leave as early as midnight to get good positions to see the torch pass from the two term Republican president to the Democrat from Illinois and so, as I trudged out the apartment at 7 in the morning, I wondered whether it would even be worth the effort. It was.

We took a bus towards the Mall as far as they would allow us to, and started to jog briskly to beat the considerable crowd of people, as Hamburger said, “surging vainly forward.” My morning grumpiness was erased as people in the crowd smiled and “hello’ed” us as we ran by them, probably appreciating our eagerness to get there (“That’s one way to keep warm.”). I was surprised by how friendly and chipper the crowd was—the excitement was electric and I was charged to full capacity. People were universally excited—I heard loud Southern accents, foreign tongues, little children, older men and women, all of us united in our status as residents of the greatest country in the world, and our interest in keeping it so.

We took our place in front of the Washington Monument with a JumboTron in clear view, all hopes of seeing the ceremony first-hand abandoned, but all expectations of enjoying the crowds fulfilled. Even where we were, we were packed in tightly, surrounded by a man from Colorado, a mountain enthusiast, a group of graduates from Swarthmore and local high school students in front of us. We were different people, with distinct backgrounds and histories, yet there was “no pushing, no shoving,” but just a mass of people all congregating for a similar reason—to celebrate change.

As Obama took the podium after a somewhat fumbled oath, he appeared calm and collected. The crowd responded to his celebrity with pomp as he started off a speech to go down in the books. He talked about the “storm” that threatens our country today, the crumbling economy, the deteriorating environment and the waning confidence in America. As he spoke to the huddled masses, he seemed to say, “give me your tired, your poor…yearning to breathe free,” and the crowds went wild with approval.

He promised us change—a more transparent government, along with a defenestration of sly, petty politics and agendas; a necessary confidence in science and technology; stable and healthy economies; and the pursuit of a “full measure of happiness.” He upheld his oath to honesty as he warned that progress is a slow and tedious process, and he seemed almost human standing at the podium as he admitted that he could not work miracles. He asked for unity—unity between parties; between people; between states and nations in order to heal the wound that our nation is suffering from.

Towards the close, he called, inevitably, to the values our country is based on: “honesty and hard work, courage and fair play, tolerance and curiosity, loyalty and patriotism.” These are the foundations upon which we will build a fortress to weather the “storm.” At that moment, standing amongst thousands of people who cheered in agreement with every word our new president said, I believed in Obama’s dream ardently.