Tears of…
By Denis Campbell • Aug 28th, 2008 • Category: Features
… what, no one can put it into words. I watched at midnight here in the UK as Senator Hillary Clinton, in the most magnanimous of unifying gestures, stopped the vote count by asking the convention to suspend its rules, ensure all of the ballots are counted and accept her floor nomination of Barack Obama by ‘acclamation’ to be the party’s nominee for President of the United States. Chairwoman Nancy Pelosi asked “all those in favour?” And a thunderous “Aye” of 20,000 voices rang out. Her gavel fell and just like that it was over.
A stunned convention hall already knowing the inevitable, burst into wild cheers (and I too well up again as I write this) as the Democratic Party nominated Barack Obama, a black man, as its candidate for President.
I watched people of colour standing everywhere in that hall with eyes closed and tears streaming down their faces, fully taking in the realisation that here, in their lifetime, after so many years of racial strife, Dr. King’s “sons of slaves and the sons of slave owners” reached across to each other to lift us all.
As a six year old sitting on my grandmother’s knee in 1963, I could not understand why everyone was so emotional this day 45-years ago when the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. gave his iconic, “I Have a Dream” speech, in Washington, DC.
My grandfather, a man of colour and great dignity, sat quietly in his starched white shirt and thin black tie taking it all in whilst smoking his ever present Tiparello cigar. He’d spend nearly 40-years of his life as a labourer in a hot, sweaty, thankless job re-tinning copper pipes. It was painfully hard work and all a man of colour could strive for then, even in the more ‘racially enlightened’ industrial Northeast.
My parents were 1st and 2nd generation immigrants from the West Indian island of Jamaica. The racism of the Northeast was much more subtle than in the South. There were 6 adults and two children living under my grandfather’s rented 3-bedroom apartment roof. When they went to purchase a home in 1965 in the lily white suburban town of Avon, the first realtor quietly suggested that perhaps they wanted to look in another area. “No.” said my mother, they had found the home they wanted and were insistent on purchasing it, which after 43-years, she has sold and will leave in three weeks’ time.
My mother was the first in our family to graduate from University in the 50’s and had to meet with the Dean of Simmons College to ensure she finished because she did not have the $300 tuition. He was so impressed with her determination that he waived the fee and gave her a scholarship for that last term. She went on to spend 38-years as a dedicated nurse and clinical instructor.
My Dad went from being the highly respected manager of the Montego Bay, Jamaica Airport to stocking lettuce at Stop and Shop. That was the only job an immigrant of colour could expect despite his operational and technical skills. He would finally land an entry level ticket counter job at BOAC and rise slowly up the ranks, retiring in 1992 as a highly respected manager of that operation. Before his death in 2003, we talked and whilst there was so much more he wanted to do, he was at peace and could look back with pride at his accomplishments.
They lived an American Dream few can live now because of the failed policies of George W Bush. My father instilled in me a sense of adventure partly perhaps, because he was not able to fulfil his own entrepreneurial dreams. “He told me before he passed that he lived vicariously through the swings of my life’s work.
As I write from 10-years of living in the EU, I am grateful to have all of this life experience and cherish the memory of all those who came before me. When I hear of a new generation that does not see colour, I place hand over heart in thanks to their memory, because without the struggles of Denis (Sr.) and Marilyn Campbell, Cyril and Karlene Wright, Karl and Bernice Perkins and the thousands of others in our extended family, including everyone’s Aunt Ivy in the Bronx who bounced the baby Colin Powell on her knee, we would not have witnessed the thrill and joy of yesterday.
Those who came before us knew real hardship and discrimination. They never gave up, they never gave in. They just kept moving forward. And no one in our family ever dared put a hand out.
The Obamas, like our family, never talk about struggle because that simply was not part of our DNA. What was a part of it was moving on, doing good, doing right and doing well. Last night was beyond our wildest dreams. Tonight gives me gooseflesh of anticipation.
The Clintons have not been known for interest beyond that of the self and this week have done and said all of the right things in spite of the obvious pain of losing. They have been moved and rose to the moment as have we all.
The show ends in Denver and heads out on the road next week. The scene tonight will be amazing. And once again at midnight, I will settle in for four-five hours because this is an historic time for us all.
Denis Campbell is a journalist, author and businessman.
From a farmhouse in South Wales overlooking the Irish Sea, he and his wife run Target Point Ltd, an EU-wide strategy firm working with global businesses across a dozen industries on clarifying and executing strategy and changing their culture and focus. As a businessman living in the EU for 10-years, writing was a passionate hobby. He began blogging in 2006 with a number of pieces examining the corrupt climate of deception in the billion dollar spiritual self-help industry and re-published collected business, political and lifestyle features published across the EU since 2001. It has since grown into The Vadimus Post, from the Latin Quo Vadimus – where are we headed? (…and do we know why?), a daily e-magazine for those wanting to dig deeper, learn more together and dialogue on the key issues of the day.
Thanks for visiting and feel free to let me know your thoughts and opinions.
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Denis,
I share your sentiments exactly.I was 17 and living in Washington, DC that day and will never forget the sheer volume of people assembled at the Mall. I remember my uncle turning to me and saying, “What you are seeing is going to change America forever. And it’s about damn time.”
He was a Republican US Congressman.
I cried last night. And pray we elect Obama.
Hi Denis,
I agree with you whole heartedly. My parents, and I, have lived in Canada, since 1968, and are now Canadians. I am also still a citizen of the U.S., the place of my birth, first 8 years of life, and the country where all but my most immediate family lives. We have been watching the race, then the Democratic Convention, with what at times is bated breath. We feel the joy that all Democrats must feel. I have friends who can’t understand why it still effects us so greatly, having left the U.S. so long ago. We try to explain that it means so much as it effects what happens in our country too, and that it effects our family still there. What we rarely mention, but all know in our hearts, is how disillusioned my parents were when we left the States. My parents had received death threats, issued against them, and us children, for campaigning for Eugene McCarthy, the man who gave them did it at the county fair, at a campaign booth, while my foster sister was taking us kids on rides; they were saddened by the racial discrimination, and harassment, that happened when a female, black, teacher, and close friend of theirs’, moved from the wrong side of the tracks into a predominately white neighbourhood, near ours; they were still heart-broken from the assassinations of John F. Kennedy, and Martin Luther King Jr. The day Bobby Kennedy was killed was the day my Dad said he no longer felt like an American. We vacationed that summer in Toronto, my parents fell in love with that city, and on a fluke my Dad had been offered a job in his field. When we got home we thought it would just be a pipe dream, but he applied for us to emigrate to Canada. It was granted quickly, and in October ‘68 we moved to Canada. Since the beginning of this race my Dad has said that Barack Obama
makes him feel like Martin Luther King Jr did. He is thrilled with his old party today. I think my parents are being healed by these events. We all look forward to the day Barack Obama is President, and hope that little nagging fear we have has no basis.
This e-mail comment arrived and is posted anonymously with thanks to my dear minister friend who was on the Freedom marches:
It was earlier here but I stood in my kitchen and streamed “tears of Joy.” I remembered the years of being called a N—– lover by my parents and relatives and friends tagging me “the bleeding heart of Mary” when I did my freedom ride. I recalled the years of anger as I watched and tried to stop violance against Blacks by out of control COPs (some themselves Black). Most of my family died seeing me as a traitor, and now it’s coming to an end. This is our chance to put it right - I pray we have the courage to do it.
B-
Get some sleep.
As was this one…
Once again you’ve really hit the nail on the head (sorry for the cliché) in your article on last night’s convention. I have been following the Obama – Clinton saga all along and have been waiting for an opportunity to feel sold on and wholeheartedly in support of Obama and the Democrats, and this week has really helped move me there. Every presidential election involves a risk and we never really know what we’re getting once we unwrap the package. Who knew what Jack Kennedy’s real qualities were, with a father who’d purchased or paved the way for him throughout his career? Whatever risk we run of Obama’s not being totally “ready” to be president (who ever was?) is dwarfed by the risk of NOT taking this opportunity to put so much of the dark side of our nation’s history behind us. What a great opportunity to demonstrate to millions of inner-city kids whose role models are hip-hop artists and neighborhood gang bosses that being nerdy and studying and aspiring to go to college isn’t acting WHITE, but rather is acting SMART. Plus the wisdom and even a sort of humility he showed in picking Biden.
Your second to the last paragraph about the Clintons was thoughtful and sincere. Hillary’s gotten a bad rap. Nobody blamed Lyndon Johnson or Hubert Humphrey for making Kennedy actually go all the way to the convention and win his nomination. The new politics is nastier than ever in terms of the negative ads, etc. but still can be so “touchy-feely” when it chooses to be.
Love your publication. Hope you’re making some money at it.
S-
What a wonderful story, Denis. Thanks for sharing it with us.
Another e-mail comment:
Great piece and I can identify and take it further.
I heard and saw Martin Luther King’s “I have a Dream” speech live. I was an 8th grader for Goldwater who fell in love with Kennedy and saw he and Bobby shot. I was protesting and being arrested in college while fellow students were being shot at Kent State. I was a Sophomore in College at Purdue 100 miles from the 1968 DNC in Chicago and witnessed and stood behind the Chicago Seven. I saw Rosa Parks after she was arrested on TV and Jack Ruby shoot Lee Harvey Oswald live. I was vehemently against Viet Nam and Iraq and saw the second Trade Center as it was hit live by the second plane.
AND….. I witnessed Barack Obama’s acceptance speech an hour ago that was as much a defining moment in history as any of the above.
Humanity is good and evolving and there will be a day several thousand years in the future when we all will be enlightened. It is moments lie these that help up leapfrog all of us toward that moment in time.
B-
Denis -
Thank you for adding your great powers of expression to Denis Sr. and Marilyn’s story and to this historic time.
America is more than ready to elect the Obama/Biden slate - and it should be noted that we actually elected Gore in 2000 and Kerry in 2004. Some of us are working very hard to protect this 2008 election, to make sure that all eligible voters are actually permitted to vote, and that those votes are tabulated honestly. It’s more difficult than most people would think possible.
Keep the faith, nontheless, and keep the good stuff coming too.
Dani