Sí Se Puede

Yesterday, November 4th 2008, the American people loudly and clearly decided it is time for change. When I woke up on November 4th here in Madrid, my friends and family were either sleeping or hadn't even gone to bed yet. Aside from my roommates, I woke up feeling a little isolated about the election. Yes, there was plenty of hype on television and an article in the daily newspapers handed out at metro stations, but it didn't carry the same sense of excitement one probably found in the US air.

I boarded the metro, but no one else seemed to know just how important yesterday was. The people around me flipped past stories about Obama and McCain with the same care that they checked the scores of previous football matches. Part of me really wanted to stop them and make them read the simple article about the election, to me they needed to know just how monumental this day was going to be. But I restrained myself, and let them continue on as they were; the Spanish news was going to have several hours of programing devoted to the election, they would find out soon enough.

When I got to school many of the kids were excited for me. As I told you before, the 4th grade supports Obama and knows that I voted for him. When I arrived, one of the kids asked if I flew home to vote. As much as I wanted to be home for this one, I couldn't fly home so I tried to explain about absentee voting. The simplest way I could find to explain it was that I was sent a letter asking who I wanted to be president and I sent them one back telling them I wanted Obama. This was interpreted as me sending Barack a personal letter of support and that was my way of voting. I tried to correct them and re-explained that the people in charge of the elections sent me the letter and I sent them one back; I'm pretty sure Ines still thinks Barack and I are pen-pals. Oh well.

Throughout the day we had several short conversations about the election. Many of the teachers, both Spanish and British, asked us about it and expressed their support for Obama. Certainly, on one level they are deeply interested in the politics and policies of the United States, but part of me couldn't help thinking that they were just reflecting my own personal excitement. I wonder if they had not had American Auxiliares in their school if these individuals would have been as excited. Perhaps they would have followed the news stories in their free time, but I don't know if there would have been so much discussion. It is hard to escape the influence that the United States has on world politics. Like it or not, we have the power and ability to affect almost any part of the globe. The more I thought at about individual Spanish reactions and collective news coverage the greater our role in the world appeared.

Soon it was time to go home. As we left everyone wished me luck and that my candidate would win. I, of course, thanked them but secretly hoped that all this talk of Obama's victory hadn't jinxed anything. Four years ago I was convinced that the American public couldn't be dumb enough to vote for Bush again; four years ago I was wrong. This is why I approached election season with far more caution than last time. This time I prefaced conversations with words like "hopefully" and "if" rather than last time, when I used words like "when."

Upon arrival home I took a nap in preparation for a long night of election results. Because of the time difference, the first set of election results wouldn't reach Madrid until about 2 o'clock in the morning. The West Coast results wouldn't come in until 5 am. To watch these results come in Tony, Audrey, Eimear, Blair and I went to the Democrats Abroad party in the Bellas Artes center. We pre-bought our tickets over the weekend for 10 euros. I admit, I got a little dressed up, wanting my outfit to reflect the importance of this evening. This was not casual Friday, everyday wear was out of place at a party to celebrate a (peaceful) political revolution. Once gussied-up, Tony and I shared some wine and left with Audrey for the fiesta.

When we arrived at Bellas Artes there was a line well down the block of people waiting to get in. The rumor was that people had been in line for over an hour and a half and no one had been let inside during that time. We continued to wait, and wait. Then we waited some more. Eventually it became obvious that our very American line was a bust and that we would have to crowd the door.

While standing in line it occurred to me that they should have had a line for the Americans and one for everyone else. In my opinion it was my election, not theirs. Therefore they should have to wait and see if there is enough space for them to join our party. For this one night I wanted it to matter that I was an American, and the only way that was going to happen was for them to recognize that many of the Spanish people in line were in line because it was a good party, not because the results of this election were crucial to the rest of their lives. Please don't get me wrong, many of the Spaniards and other various Europeans in line did know about American politics, but more as a passing interest the same way that some people are fans of soccer or British history. They knew the names and lots of information about the parties, but they could not feel the importance of this moment the same way that the US citizens in line felt it. Deep in our bones, we knew this was a make or break moment for our nation.

Finally, after an over hour of waiting in a pathetic attempt at a line, our gang line jumped and joined the crowd gathering by the door. People chanted about getting their money back, and about opening the doors. When the time came to open the doors the rush of people actually carried me forward. There were times when I was not standing by my own power, but rather by the force of people behind me propping me up against those waiting in front of me. We got inside, and found the place was not crowded at all. Several bars dotted the floor and served decently priced drinks to the thirsty crowd. Since I had to be at work in less than 8 hours, I decided not to drink this night. In hindsight, I'm pretty sure the staff at my school would understand a hangover after such an pivotal night.

This is where my frustration with many of the non-US citizens inside the party grew. Not only had they taken up space in the lines, but they were there not to watch the results or participate in a meaningful way, but rather to get drunk and take pictures with a person in a Sarah Palin costume. Yes, I did take one photo of Tony under the red, white and blue balloon arch, but the point of us being there was supposed to be to watch our election results with people (from our country) who really cared about the outcome. For me, it was supposed to be a gathering of like-minded people who wanted to celebrate the new direction the United States was headed. I recognize that I may be taking this party a little too seriously, but there were times when I felt that our election wasn't being taken seriously, rather it was a venue for some to party on a Tuesday night and buy fairly cheap beers.

Again, I am probably misrepresenting the situation by focusing on those who annoyed me. In truth there were many people who genuinely were interested in watching the results. When the announcement that Obama had taken the battleground state of Pennsylvania came in, Tony and I were in a room where you could also hear the CNN commentary, rather than just watch it on a giant screen. This room was smaller, and packed with people. We watched and waited, and once it was projected that he had those electoral votes the room erupted in cheers.

I stayed late enough to watch two time zones report, but by 3 am I had to go home. When I came home I opened CNN.com and saw their interactive electoral college map. By 3 am in Madrid, Obama only needed to win Washington, Oregon, California and Hawaii to win. I went to bed feeling secure in my country's future. He clearly had this in the bag and finally things were going to turn around.

When I woke up, 4 hours later, I rechecked CNN.com, the headline read "Change has come to America" accompanied by a photo of Barack and Michelle Obama. I was thrilled. I went out into the living room and crossed paths with Melanie. We did a very quiet victory dance, full of fist pumping. I'm sure if Audrey had been awake there would have been apartment wide cheering, but we didn't want to wake her. There was one person, however, who I did want to wake. When it is 7:45 am here, it is 10:45 pm in Forest Grove, where my mom is. I had to call her, I needed to talk to someone about what was happening there.

She told me that the election was pretty much called by the time Oregon polls closed and that both Barack Obama and John McCain had given very nice speeches. I didn't have time to google the speeches, so that would have to wait. I finished getting ready and left for school.

Again, the commute to school was a lonely experience. My fellow passengers did not share my enthusiasm for what had happened the night before. This time, Obama's projected victory was on the fronts of the metro newspapers. I managed to snag one off of a seat, hoping to collect the various ones passed out at the Moncola bus terminal. Such was not the case; when I left the bus terminal there were no papers. None. Usually there are four different publications competing for riders attention, but this time you couldn't find a paper if you tried, and I did. I began to wonder if the Spaniards had gobbled up the keepsakes the same way I'm sure copies of the New York Times and Washington Post will be tucked away in acid-free paper for future generations.

When I got on the bus, with only my scavenged copy of 20 Minutos, I ran into Laura, the first grade teacher at my school. She and I were equally excited. She spent several years living in Oakland, so she is familiar with US politics, but what struck me about our conversation was that she felt this was the kind of change not only needed by the US but also the world. The world. Again we are back to the role the United States has in international affairs. Our election wasn't just a turning point for us, but rather one for the rest of the world. I hope that rather than the Bush method of diplomacy, or rather pushing everyone around, Obama can deliver on the promise of rebuilding our place in the international area on a foundation of respect.

At school the teachers, both Spanish and British, congratulated Eimear and me. One lovely woman, Amparo, came up and gave us two kisses, one on each cheek, almost like it was our birthday. They called felicitaciones (congratulations in Spanish) and told us how happy they were for us. Again, it seemed like their excitement was a reflection of ours. But in the end that doesn't matter. What matters is that these people were excited and that they knew, on some level, just how important yesterday was.

After school, I came home to watch those aforementioned speeches on my computer. Luckily they were not hard to find. I watched the Obama one first and only a few minutes in I began to cry. Hearing his victory speech was the moment when this whole process became real again. When he spoke of how he was going to govern and reach out to those who did not vote for him it sank in that things are going to change, and they will be different when I get home. As he closed his speech with a few rounds of "Yes We Can" it hit me that it is true.

I am a citizen of a country where anything is possible. In the 2000 and the 2004 elections a rich white guy with family money and corrupt deals won. Our country was run by liars and cheaters, but the people of America would not stand for it anymore. What is depressing is how bad things had to get before we stood our ground, but when we did it was monumental. We wanted change, and we got change. Change from the status quo and change from our own defeatist attitudes.

For today, and the next couple of days I am going to revel in that fact. I know there are still things wrong with our country, ie Proposition 8 in California, for right now, in this moment, I am choosing to focus on what is right in our country.