a black girl

Insomnia.

Wednesday, June 04, 2008

I cannot sleep. Maybe it is because I have had trouble sleeping for quite some time now. Maybe it is an early onset of insomnia caused by stress, and fears, although I am on vacation. (Thats when it strikes most horribly eh?)

Maybe I am excited/worried/confused about tonight's (last nights no?) breaking news. Obama has won the candidacy.

I watched the speech. I watched him wax poetic about his grandmother, about Hillary Clinton, about John McCain. Then I saw him go on about his stances that are much aligned with mine: healthcare, new energy, the war on Iraq. There were moments when I cried because the speech writers intended it that way. By the end I was sobbing, and it had nothing to do with speech writers.

As the commentators began their blustering dialogues (This is all one can do after Obama's speeches. They are impeccable, and he has drawn from an oratory tradition made to make souls weep and chakras spin.) I watched him.

More accurately, I watched Michelle. I watched her get on stage. I watched her wave to the crowd. I watched her say "I love you" in Obama's year.

I watched him look down and away. He waves, she waves. I watched him turn to her, look her in the eyes, and say "thank you..." and something else hidden by her cheek. I imagine its something tender and moving.

I watched him say "Let's go."

I saw her being helped by him down the stage. A white man with a heavy build holds her hand. I noticed the shiny black belt cinching her tiny waist.

I watched her like this because on my heart was Cynthia McKinney, and a host of other Black women.

In my ear was the voice of my mother, urging me like she's never urged me to do anything in my life, to vote for this man.

In the other ear were the voices of radical elders... urging with my own mind... the rightness of a third party. The importance of it.

A black woman is running for president, and another black woman is running for first lady.

I looked at both of them, I looked at him. And I cried. Mostly because I am confused. I want to believe everything he said. I want to believe that he will never again have to disavow another Black leader, although to disavow one's preacher is enough. He had to... he had to right? Right. I want to believe it all matters anyway.

I want to believe him because I know my vote will be in the right direction if I do not vote for him, but I know if anything is right in this world--he will win.

And I want to believe in him.

So I steadied my eyes on Michelle, and my heart on Cynthia. And the past two years became vivid: Dunbar Village, The New Jersey Four, Megan Williams, Tynehsa Stewart, The Duke Rape Case, The Rutgers Basketball team.

My own black girl/woman self.

Something's gotta move.

Some woman, some black woman, will be in the white house.

And if worth her salt, she will be unable to sleep too.

Labels: black girls, black women, election 2008, Obama, politics