History in the Making

At 11:03 PM the city erupted with shrieks, fireworks, cowbells, and tears as the first American black president was elected to office. 4 years ago I sat in my dorm room, my optimism fading as the reality that Kerry would not win crashed down upon me. Perhaps it was a need, perhaps it was naivete or selfishness or optimism, but there was no other option this year. Obama would win. He would conquer racism, prejudice, and Republicans.

Obama, a master of the English language who wields words with ease and might, won me over four years ago at the Democratic convention. Hearing him describe the America he believed in, the America he knew existed, I felt a desire to be part of it. Except for as a young child, I have never felt a connection to being an American. While studying abroad I claimed to be a Canadian at times. One time, when admitting to my scarlet letter, I was told, "You wouldn't like me; I don't like your president or your country" by a French boy. But I felt just like him. I didn't like my president and I didn't respect a country that could elect someone with so little intelligence. To hear Obama describe a united, strong, dedicated America, I yearned for it to be.

Tonight it was. Tonight New York City united in a celebration of the victory of America.

Around the world newspapers commented on the U.S. presidential election but an article on Nikkei Net, a Japanese paper, is what stands out to me. The U.S. adapts. We adapted, we joined, we fought, we won. I have never been so proud to be an American.