I’ll be honest. When Obama came on the presidential candidate scene, Hillary was my choice. I had no idea who this guy was, and didn’t feel an overriding need to choose him just because of his skin color. In my opinion, Hillary had made her bones, proven herself. But to be fair, I didn’t close my mind, and discovered a thing or two about this senator from another country: Illinois (spoken like a true New Yorker, right?). He began to pique my interest.
It became clear this man had run the political fast track. It became clear he knew how to get out the vote, and overfill the campaign chest. It became clear the man had a message of change to impart – and people across the national spectrum were actively listening.
One day I glimpsed a frontpage primary victory pose of Obama with his wife, Michelle. My jaw dropped. Michelle looks like me! No she’s not my twin, not my doppelganger. Michelle Obama is a brown-skinned woman showing the African heritage in her features. She is beautiful.
As a young girl, I, too, had fantasies of marrying a successful, and loving black Prince Charming. But looking through the pages of such periodicals as Ebony magazine, my hopes were dashed every time. Successful black men did not choose us. The sign of their success, much as my father’s, my maternal and paternal grandfathers’, and every other cousin’s paternal kin, was to marry a woman very close to white – if not actually white.
What happens to a little black girl’s psyche when she knows she’s not valued by the larger society? If she’s lucky, she’ll have nurturing parents to make her believe in herself despite the dismissal by man-kind. I didn’t. If she’s very lucky, she’ll live during the Civil Rights and Black Power movements, and teach herself to love herself because she does have value. I did.
Now along comes the actuality of a vision of a strong black man who did not choose an Asian, a Scandinavian, a Norwegian, a Polynesian, or a Latina. He chose as his helpmate, his equal, his love a beautiful, elegant, well-bred, highly educated, and intelligent native-born Black American of slave heritage. She’ll make a most excellent First Lady.
I am so proud.
It became clear this man had run the political fast track. It became clear he knew how to get out the vote, and overfill the campaign chest. It became clear the man had a message of change to impart – and people across the national spectrum were actively listening.
One day I glimpsed a frontpage primary victory pose of Obama with his wife, Michelle. My jaw dropped. Michelle looks like me! No she’s not my twin, not my doppelganger. Michelle Obama is a brown-skinned woman showing the African heritage in her features. She is beautiful.
As a young girl, I, too, had fantasies of marrying a successful, and loving black Prince Charming. But looking through the pages of such periodicals as Ebony magazine, my hopes were dashed every time. Successful black men did not choose us. The sign of their success, much as my father’s, my maternal and paternal grandfathers’, and every other cousin’s paternal kin, was to marry a woman very close to white – if not actually white.
What happens to a little black girl’s psyche when she knows she’s not valued by the larger society? If she’s lucky, she’ll have nurturing parents to make her believe in herself despite the dismissal by man-kind. I didn’t. If she’s very lucky, she’ll live during the Civil Rights and Black Power movements, and teach herself to love herself because she does have value. I did.
Now along comes the actuality of a vision of a strong black man who did not choose an Asian, a Scandinavian, a Norwegian, a Polynesian, or a Latina. He chose as his helpmate, his equal, his love a beautiful, elegant, well-bred, highly educated, and intelligent native-born Black American of slave heritage. She’ll make a most excellent First Lady.
I am so proud.
