What’s it to you? I’ve received links to this Keith Olberman piece from several sources. It’s remarkable, to say the least. Over at Susan Russell’s blog, Barbi click writes that she most of all loves Olberman’s question, “What’s it to you?” The more I think on that question, the more remarkable I think it is.
Author Archives: Julian O. Long
students arrested for celebrating America
Here’s a letter from the daughter of a friend about her experience last night after the presidential election results were made clear. The daughter is a student at The Eastman School of Music.
“As I watched Barack Obama’s electoral vote count rise beyond 270 at 11:00 pm, tears came to my eyes. Not even an hour later, Obama was speaking to this country as our future President. Some friends were coloring the already dominated blue map or our 50 states and I decided to head home, looking forward to a good night’s sleep, contently anticipating my dreams about what my role would be in order to answer Obama’s call for change. As I was heading to my car, my friend said, “Hey, listen to the music.†As we walked towards the Eastman dorms down Gibbs street, I heard the anthem of our country pouring out of 60 some students and a small band. We cheered and sang, clapping and dancing. I joined hands and cried. I felt the pulse of our patriotic songs like never before. As the band began marching up and down the streets, we all willingly followed. I watched from behind. For the first time, I saw my classmates passionate about something other than music.
“As we headed down Main Street two cop cars pulled up. Students looked around wanting to bolt, searching for protection. A cop told us to be quiet, a “paddy wagon†was on its way, and he had no problem putting all of us in jail. “But we’re celebrating!†one of the players glowed. “If I hear another instrument or shouting of any kind, you’ll all be taken in.” “We’ll just walk then,†I retorted as I stepped past the officer, waiving, urging all to keep moving forward. As the sixty of us tried to remain hush-hush, I heard, “We shall overcome…we have overcome today.†And as we all joined together in song, I couldn’t help but think of my parents. Although they walked out of necessity for the freedoms of all Americans, I walked this night in joy, celebrating those freedoms.
“But we are Eastman music students and regardless of our emotional state we want to make music. So, the guys suggested returning to the Hyatt where the DNC of Rochester was hosting their party. We all marched in, clapping and dancing to the music, entertaining the remaining guests. As we paraded onto the streets, I sensed that not a one of us was considering the threats of the authorities, how could we on such a night! But like a flash, three police cars pulled up, and immediately we saw cops demanding the guys with instruments to sit down on the ground. “And if the rest of you don’t get going, you’ll be arrested too.” As our group quickly dispersed, I walked over to the guys sitting on the pavement…torn. Should I sit or not?? Instead, I walked over and intently gave each of them a hug of gratitude and empathy. With a handful of others, I decided to stand and watch at the corner for an hour and a half as seven police cars arrived. Ten or so officers frisked, cuffed and loaded my friends into a van. As they tossed the instruments into a car, one officer began jingling the tambourine. “Hey! You’re disturbing the peace!†As the police shot glares, we just stood and waited.
“Unlawful assembly was the charge. Apparently a gathering of four or more in the streets without a permit is considered an unauthorized congregation. As I was being told this at the city jail last night, images of city streets all over the country were flashing through my mind. All of America was assembling. All were celebrating. They spent the night in a holding cell because we were not permitted to post their bail for another 3 hours. As I watched 8 of my classmates go through the docket court this morning, all I could think was that they were held for disturbing the peace, when in actuality it was peace we were celebrating.
“I am glad to report that Eastman not only sent a lawyer to represent their students, but Eastman was prepared to post bail. I watched as the Judge and lawyers looked over the charges. As they smirked in disbelief that these students were even picked up, the charges were dropped and my classmates dismissed.
“But, Obama is our President.”
President elect Obama
At the end of the day, yesterday, the speech, the faces in the crowd.
election day
Since Missouri doesn’t allow early voting and we would have had to lie in order to vote absentee, and since we both like to vote on election day, my beloved and I went to our polling place after 9:00 this morning on the theory that we would miss the crowds voting before work. We were correct. On our way in we met a good many smiling folks who told us the wait was less than an hour.
Earlier Kathleen had watched the Obamas vote on CNN and given me a report as I was doing some email–she said the children were there, but that they looked sleepy. Then she said Obama would take time for a little pick-up basketball on his way to Indiana, where he would campaign later in the morning. Michelle looked really wiped, she said. Then she told me that Obama’s grandmother voted two and a half weeks ago, and that she was firm of mind, according to report. CNN later reported that the crowd at Grant Park in Chicago tonight may surpass a million.
Our polling place today was at Shenandoah School in St. Louis, not far from us. There was a line outside about half a block long, though observers told us that early on the line had stretched for three blocks. We were inside in ten minutes, maybe, and waited about a half hour to vote in a school gym crowded with people. Everybody seemed in a good humor. We met several neighbors and friends. People were talking pleasantly with one another in the lines at the precinct tables. When it got to be our turn, my beloved took a paper ballot. I decided to be adventurous and voted electronically.
Things were well organized. There were planty of poll workers, newly outfitted in blue polo shirts and wearing plastic badges with their names and photos. The atmosphere was uniformly pleasant and free of mean-spiritedness. It reminded me of something I wrote here back when I first began to write about Barack Obama, that he reminded me how I loved my country when I really loved my country. I likely still do love my country, found myself casting about for some good patriotic song to think as I stood in line, failed as usual and decided to think of a couple of Sousa marches I like instead. Manifest Destiny aside, nothing quite seemed to fit my cheerful mood (and I can’t stand God Bless America).
Outside the school, we met our Alderwoman, Kacie Starr Triplett, shaking hands and visiting with folks. She isn’t up for reelection this time but will get my vote when she is. Then inside, as we were leaving, we met Lewis Reed, president of the Board of Aldermen, voting and showing his son how the voting macnine works. “Having a little civics lesson, are we?” I cracked as I stopped to speak. Reed grinned and the boy squirmed a little but finally smiled; he looked to be at that age when young people don’t want to be noticed much. I voted for Reed last year and will vote for him again–I wish he would run for mayor–at least partly because he he has often said that he wants to make St. Louis a great city again.
Afterwards we strolled back to our car, again passing crowds of voters on their way to the polling place. The crowds today were generationally as well as ethnically diverse. Everybody was speaking to others. There were lots of children with their parents, a couple of babies with their mothers. We stopped to visit with our nexdoor neighbors and one of Kathleen’s young colleagues who was there with her husband. Around us was a beautiful balmy morning with Autumn leaves in full cry, making our city neighborhood with its elderly brick houses look homey and and genteel. I thought, no matter the large cultural forces determining this election–Bill Clinton has been out talking about that already today–Barack Obama has changed my country for the better.
We drove down Grand to SLU, and as we crossed the edge of Compton Heights we saw lots of Obama and Biden yard signs. We were in such a good humor that we didn’t speculate about how terrible we will feel if Obama doesn’t win. Somehow, the day seemed too good for morbid speculation at just that moment, so good indeed that even the derelict industrial area from Chouteau to forty highway looked OK. After I left Kathleen at her office, driving home, I was feeling so cheerful that I didn’t even swear at the asshole who honked at me at Grand and Lindell because I didn’t turn the corner fast enough to suit him. . . .
Right now it’s looking very good for my guy. Most polls project him to win with over 50 percent of the popular vote–somethng no democrat has done since Jimmy Carter–a substantial electoral victory, and a Senate majority that will be substantial even if not quite filibuster proof. I’m feeling cautiously optimistic about the outcome of the voting.
But truth to tell, it’s a good day no matter the electoral outcome. The social outcomes of this historic campaign have already been remarkable.