I was (virtually) there

It wasn’t grand, but it was eloquent. It wasn’t passionate, but it was inspirational. It wasn’t rosy, but it wasn’t discouraging. It was lofty, while being remarkably frank. No speech in recent years has been anticipated with such high expectation. It will have doubtless left many people disappointed for what it did not do. But for what it needed to do, for the tone it needed to set for the days and years to come, the inaugural address by President Barack Hussein Obama was right on the mark. He claimed America’s greatness and scolded America’s laxness in the same voice. He was firm about our defense and our posture toward the world - friend and foe. He was firm about our collective failure to oversee the freedoms this country makes possible. He was resolute about our ability to recover, to go on, to rebuild, and to stand as proud as we ever have. He was inspiring in his call to get involved, to pay attention, to be part of the solutions to come. He invoked history in several ways, but maybe his most effective strategy was his closing: invoking the future. “Let it be said by our children’s children that when we were tested we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back.” He told us we were the keepers of the dream, called on us to leave to our children’s children the dream that was passed on to us, to be able to look at them and tell them we didn’t not let the journey fail on our watch, that we preserved it and kept it alive for them. Tingly, that.

And it’s a remarkable thing about this event: I’d been grading papers all morning in my jammies, but when it came time for the actual swearing in ceremony, I felt the need to be dressed. And when the audience was asked to rise, I stood too. When the national anthem was sung, I was singing with it, all alone in my living room. I can, usually, sing the anthem. Except when I’m really emotional, which is most of the time when the anthem comes up. Like today. I wish I’d been in a crowd of other folks somewhere, sharing all that energy and enthusiasm and emotion. But I wasn’t, so I cherished the moments and hope to talk more about it with all of you later.

Earlier today, Michael Eric Dyson was commenting on the events of the day and about Mr. Obama. He said he didn’t want to see him lose his particular style. He referred to it as “black male style that has been disciplined by grace and elegance”. I really liked that.

Tell me what you thought. The pundits keep talking about the history of the moment, but every moment is historical. What is it about this one that we all seem to know is such a big deal?