Current location:	home sweet home
Current mood:	contemplative
Entry tags:	2009, d.c., inauguration, obama

Inauguration Thoughts
Many times I feel like I'm not very good at expressing my thoughts with words and that usually keeps me from writing things here. This case is no different except that people (mom) tell me I need to write down my thoughts because the inauguration of Barak Obama as the 44th president of the United States of America is an important event that I (kind of experienced) and will want to look back on this in the future. I don't disagree at all, but I still am unsure of just how to record my experience in words.

It was cold. That part was easy. Let me back up a bit. Driving to D.C. the day before I can't say that I was especially excited or anxious. This wasn't something I was looking forward to in the same way that I might look forward to a taco (or 5) after swimming. It was something that I felt I needed to go to because if I didn't I would regret not going. I felt that it was important to be at least in a little way, a part of history. I wasn't sure what to expect. I wasn't sure what I would take away from the experience but I wasn't really worried about that. I wanted to experience the moment (the real, actual moment, not the cheesy newsicized and capitalized "The Moment" that CNN tried to shove down our throats every 5 minutes).

Due to some late night activities the evening previous (it was the 19th of January after all, what was I supposed to do?) I did not get up in time on the 20th to rush out the door at 7am and meet up with Matt like we had planned. Instead I decided to take a more relaxed approach and get up at my own pace. I ended up leaving Steven's apartment around 10:30 and took the metro one stop to Arlington National Cemetery. Getting off the train at that stop is where "the moment" started for me. Actually, I take that back. It started on the train the day before when I witnessed complete strangers start up happy conversations about an Obama pin on a jacket. People that normally would just keep their mouth shut on their train ride were smiling, animated and socially engaging. Obama as president is more than just a guy running the country. In many people's minds he is so much more; he is a symbol of what this country could be if we set aside our differences and use our vast amount of resources and knowledge for constructive purposes to restore us to a respected place in the world. More than that, he is a symbol of the end of an era that many people are more than happy is now behind us. An era of secrecy and attacks on personal liberties, one of irresponsible spending and irresponsible tax cuts. The traits that thrust our country to the forefront of the world stage in the past: science, innovation, diplomacy (ok, maybe not that last one so much, but it should have) were put on the back burner to make room for stubborn ideology, faith based initiatives and a hubristic approach to foreign policy. The collective excitement that Obama induced in his supporters was due not only to his fresh set of promised policies and new ideas he would bring to the White House, but also the ideas and policies he would be ending.

The first twangy bit of emotion hit me while I was walking across the memorial bridge. Walking from Virginia to the District, bracing against the bitter cold and stiff breeze, along with hundreds of other people, and knowing that all these people were here for the same reason as me, that it was likely we shared similar values and hopes and ideas of what this country *could* become, was quite the experience. I know not everyone reading this shares my views about Obama, or even about the direction that our country should take, but no one can deny the power of hope that Obama has instilled in the millions of people that traveled from all parts of the country to be on the national mall that day. No one can deny also the power of seeing 2 million people, all with the same hopes and dreams, congregated on a patch of dried, dormant grass, bundled in hats and cloves and scarfs, all getting along in very, very close quarters.

I had a choice, as I walked onto the mall. There were rows of jumbotrons set up down the length of the mall. I entered at the far end, near the Lincoln memorial. The crowds here were fairly sparse, there was plenty of room to get a good, close view of the screen. The downside was the Washington monument, and slight hill that it is on, completely blocked any view of the distant capital. This wouldn't do. I came to experience the moment, and I knew that to fully take part in the moment I need to have line of sight path between me, and the steps of the capital building. I made my way up the mall and into the crowed swarming at the base of the Washington monument. I was a bit further from a screen than I could have been further back, but the straight line path to the dome of the capital made all the difference. I could have tried to move up to the next closest swarm but at that point I didn't want to risk trying to find a good spot and missing the beginning of the ceremony so I stayed put.

I heard the same speeches that I would have seen on TV in the comfort of a warm living room. Actually, the wind made understanding the words of the speeches more difficult than had I been in the comfort of a warm living room, but that didn't matter. It didn't matter to any of the other hundreds of thousands of people in my swarm (last I heard the total estimate of people on the mall was around 2 million, but they were broken up into several clusters around each row of screens). The anticipation was thick. Every glimpse of any member of the Obama family on the screen elicited claps and cheers from my neighbors. Glimpses of any member of the then current, soon to be former, administration elicited groans, boos, or good humored jokes from my neighbors. At one point, during the announcement of previous presidents as they entered, and before the announcement of the then current one, a father turned to his infant daughter strapped to his back and said "in just a few minutes you're going to learn how to boo!" I wasn't the only one in earshot who chuckled.

During the swearing in ceremony not one of the 2 million people standing shoulder to shoulder to one another said a word. At least it seemed that way to me, it was the quietest I could have imagined that many people could be. At the end there was cheering, there was clapping, there was crying. As people started politely making their way to the outside of the swarm I saw many happy faces sprinkled with the dried salty remnants of tears.

The ending of the ceremony did not even feel like an ending. In some respects it was a bit disconcerting. The important part was over, people started filing away, and I then noticed that my hands were numb and my feet sore and I desperately wanted to get out of the wind. There was no real sense of ending to the event, though there was one part of the ceremony that did feel like a very welcomed ending to everyone in the crowd. I hadn't stayed in front of the screen to witness George W. Bush stepping into his helicopter, but I and everyone else did see if fly overhead, in the direction of Texas. People turned their heads skyward for a few seconds, smiled and waved and then brought their attention back to what they were going to do for lunch.

Perhaps the reason that this ceremony did not feel like an ending is that really, it was a beginning.