This election has brought up many emotions and memories for me.  There are times and things that remember as if it were yesterday:  I remember watching Barack Obama announce and thinking he may ACTUALLY be president one day, just not now.No wonder I never hit the lottery!  I was in my kitchen feeding my children and in a great mood because of my new sales job.  Then there was the time I had a conversation with my f

riend about wishing Barack and Hillary had not run in the same year as she was so conflicted as to who to vote for. I could not understand her predicament.  I lost a job, got a new job and moved across 3 states while this whole thing was still raging.  Loving my new job I walked down the hall one morning in time to overhear how the American people had lost their minds and because Barack had won Iowa.  That was the moment I became fully engaged in this election.

I have been politically active for many years.  As a kid my parents took off every election day and drove people to the polls.  It was a time when we got to spend the whole day with them.  I would go from the station wagon to the truck when my parents were at the polling place together.  That was before these pesky safety rules too.  So we kids would ride in the cargo area of the wagon or on the bed of the truck when it wasn’t cold.  We loved running around playing and being out of school.  I would spend that day listening to elderly members of my community talk about their vote.  Every year one of them would tell the story of the Briggs v. Elliott the first of the cases in the Brown v. Board of Education decision that started in our community.  I have heard the story over and over about how Rev. Delaine and Mr. Briggs were forced out of town for their efforts in the suit.  I have also heard stories of the men coming back for funerals and family reunions dressed as women (never had any proof).  I was told often about the sacrifices made so that I could get and education.  Not one election day passed that someone didn’t tell me to make sure to get my education.  When I got to high school election day was not quite as cool but I was still there.  There was not an option in my house. My mom had no such notion that children needed choices.  She believed firmly that to whom much is given much is expected.  To avoid the lecture on how blessed I was I became a driver as well as a helper for those who could not read.  Even though I started the day not too enthused I always ended it feeling good.  Until recently I never thought of those days.  Jill wrote a post on Being a voter that brought up all those memories.

When I was an elementary student I won an essay contest and got to go and read it at the state house.  Nobody knew that I was terrified at the prospect of speaking in public.  Rep Harvin, my state Rep was backstage with my dad and I, they were laughing and talking while I was crying and about to hyperventilate.  When they noticed they both decided I did not need to do the essay (men and crying women). Two things I will never forget about that day.  1) Mr. Harvin said “no worries sweetie I will go out and do it for you.”  At that moment he looked like an angel.  I stopped sniveling long enough to thank him.  2.) My mom had other ideas.  She put my brother down got on her knees gave me a hug and as she was holding me she explained who I was.  She told me that I am a girl from a long line of strong women and reading an essay was easy. If I got nervous just look in the crowd and know that there are people who are rooting for me.  I still to this day tell myself I am Naomi and John’s daughter and Marie’s granddaughter to psych myself up to speak in public.  By the time I got to High school Rep. Harvin and I were friends of sorts.  So working on his campaign was a natural thing for me.  Then I went to Benedict College and Jesse Jackson made his run for president.  Being at an HBCU during Jesse’s run was just an experience you had to be there for.  The pride and hope was thick in the air. I had the “Run Jesse Run” t-shirt and I lived in the campaign office.  I did everything from register people to stand on the corner with signs. I drove 5 other people the hour home to vote in the primary.  We were beyond happy when he won South Carolina.  The excitement was palpable, yet I feel more emotion over Obama.  I have worked to elect many men and women over the years but this for me is just different.

I didn’t know what that difference was until I told my kids this morning that we had to clean out the car this afternoon so that we can give people rides to vote tomorrow.  Everyone who knows me know the level of commitment it takes for me to do this since my car does not get cleaned often if at all.  My children are actually excited about this.  That, I realized, is the difference.  You make memories when you aren’t planning to. I am not sure if any of those people who told me their stories while we were going to the polls would know how much they impacted my life. And now even the lives of my children. My mom and dad probaly had no idea how much of a legacy they were creating by making this a priority.  That is what I have been doing over these last few months, passing on that legacy to my children.  My children are so caught up in the Obama excitement.  My 13 year old is reading serious books without a fuss.  I bought him Sidney Poitier’s Measure of a Man and Barack’s two books and he did not groan or moan.  He actually read passages of them to me.  In turn he has started actually reading his Chicken Soup books that he has been getting for the past 3 years. My little girl loves Rock Obama she says he will be the president.  She and her brother had to get online to vote in the Nick election.  They think they have early voted.  She started this love because her biggest brother was on the bandwagon, and to her he is right up there with sliced bread.  Now, it is about her Tuesday nights ‘helping’ in the office while I do data entry.  My middle one marks the days on the calendar (his unit for this month in math) when we will work for Obama.  Until I thought about it I never knew why I had no patience for those who never voted.  Nor why I always had to be involved during election season.  Now that I can connect it to those days of riding to the polls before I knew what voting was, I am happy to pass on these days of Rock Obama to my kids.  I still see my mom, hand on hips finger pointed; saying to whom much is given much is expected.  I hope my children become adults who are fully engaged and invested in their communities and their country. I look forward to finding out if this experience becomes a part of their voting story and what image of me they will have to go with it.