A few thoughts from BFF:
Tonight I had the honor and privilege of watching the presidential election results at a campaign office for a local African-American candidate in Los Angeles. The office was located in South Los Angeles, and for those of you who are unfamiliar with the geography of this city, the area is more notoriously known as “South Central Los Angeles” – the site of the devastating riots in the early 1990s. Forgive me for the cliche, however it was really a night that will forever be ingrained in my memory.
As we watched Barack Obama’s electoral tally creep up to 270, you could sense the anticipation and tension in the room growing. People were mesmerized by the possibility that an African-American could be the leader of the free world. When he blew past 270, I finally came to realize what this election meant. This was not about economic stimulus plans or smoking out caves in Afghanistan or what defines a maverick. As a child of refugees who has lived a relatively comfortable life, I was humbled by what I saw. Grown men and women – who endured that “separate but equal” society for decades – dropped to their knees in joy and disbelief. Their tears were uncontrollable. Their hope insurmountable. Strangers of all ethnicities hugged and kissed each other like they had known each other for years. I even had a 300-lb African-American male pick me up and almost suffocate me in a bear hug. No joke, these are things you just don’t see in Los Angeles. This was my civil rights lesson.
To me though, the most moving moment of this night came from a conversation I overhead amidst all the festivities. A small boy, maybe 5 years old, said to his father, “He’s like me.” We just elected a man of mixed heritage, raised by a single mother, from a poor background, with no “royal” American lineage to be President of the United States.
And to you Sarah Palin, you should choose your words more carefully. Yes, you just got beat by a community organizer.