Well Worth the Wait

My ninth grade English teacher opened every class with a little writing exercise wherein a student would present a current event topic, we'd discuss the issue as a class for ten minutes, and then we'd express our own thoughts and reactions in our Current Events Journals. I remember two particularly interesting topics--the Lorena Bobbit incident (the teacher quickly changed the subject to something less likely to instigate use of the P word) and the story about Kimberly Mays and Arlena Twigg, who were switched at birth and a minor obsession of mine after having seen the made-for-t.v. movie.

Most of the topics, though, were forgettable, and most of my journal entries reflect how forgettable they were even thirty seconds after I'd started writing about them. A typical entry begins with a statement of the topic ("Today we are supposed to write about drought"), and from there it pretty much devolved into junior-high ramblings about the student presenting the topic ("Dan is stinky," "Justin is so fine," "Liz is wearing a really rad shirt"), followed by a full page of teenage-girl nonsense.

When I last went through that journal about a year ago, I sort of wished I'd taken the exercise more seriously so that I'd have a record of my fourteen-year-old social conscience a la the brilliant Up series (which you MUST see; it's what film was invented for). Then again, the journal as it stands is a pretty accurate record of my fourteen-year-old social conscience: namely, I was fourteen and I didn't care about the world beyond my tiny circle of personal experience. The most important things were who stunk and who was so fine and what the other girls were wearing. I didn't have a mind for relevant news and, even when forced to perform as though I did, I was never very good at comprehending the complexity of the larger world. (For Model UN that year I was on Team Switzerland and we handily solved the crisis of the Middle East through our mighty "Jerusalem Mandate," which simply gave the Gaza Strip to Egypt, the West Bank to Jordan, and the Golan Heights to Syria, with Jerusalem remaining a neutral territory under UN military control. Duh!)

Now, fifteen years later, I'm proud to say I have more interest in, as well as a better grasp of, current events, and so it is that I feel compelled to record my reaction as a twenty-nine-year old on this historic day after the United States elected Barack Obama as its president. Unfortunately, I'm finding it hard to say much of anything because I'm still so much in shock that we actually achieved this...this...I don't even know what to call it, but it's good. SO GOOD. All I can think to say is "Well, now," with a huge smile spread across my face and my chest all puffed out with pride that we, as a nation, have finally taken a step back and reevaluated what the hell we're doing, both at home and abroad. Well, now. Look at us. Well done. Well, well, well. Other than that, I'm mostly just speechless.

Last night we had election snacks (I made red, white, and blue sugar cookie stars) and we drank a bottle of Martinelli's each (Simon bought us "pimp cups" at Ross and each one holds 42 ounces, which means our celebratory beverage consumption has gone through the roof. Lord help us when I can have champagne again...) and we watched the results come in with tears in our eyes and no words in our heads or mouths that could express what we were feeling. We can't believe this happened in our lifetime. We can't believe this happened at all.

I will say, though, that when it comes to current events--even major, historymaking events--my junior high attitude still shines through in the adult I've become. Watching the reporters and pundits (note: punDITS, none of this punDENT baloney I've been hearing lately), my comments still lean heavily toward who's stinky, hot, and well-dressed (David Gergen, Anderson Cooper, and Anderson Cooper, respectively). There was even a moment when I made Simon click away from his political blogs so he could Google whether Campbell Brown is pregnant or just wearing a poochy shirt. (People.com confirms the former.) It's all rather silly considering the larger context of what was going on, but I guess it's just proof that some things never change. After last night, though, I'm also proud to say that other things, thank god, DO.

Congratulations, America. You're all growed up.

wrote Leah at 6:37 AM | Comments (11)