Back on January 25, 2008, I received a phone call from my mother telling me that her closest and dearest friend and mentor—and my “Nana”—had passed away. Her friend, Mattie P. Harris died the day Barack Obama won the South Carolina primary. She was one month shy of her 106th birthday. She had witnessed more history than most of us can imagine. The minute Mama said that Nana was gone, I immediately uttered that Barack would win South Carolina. Mama asked me what I had just said, and I repeated the statement. “Are you all right?” Mama asked. “Yeah, it was just a thought,” I answered. It felt extremely weird to have that sensation. I am not one to believe in a lot of hocus-pocus; I have no real superstitions. I do believe, however, in ancestral signs.
This past week I took my mother to the dentist. A retired school teacher and early childhood specialist, at 87 years of age and with two mild strokes behind her, I do not expect my mother to be spry. She has always been a busy body with a keen wit and fierce independence, only recently acquiescing to my demand that she have a housekeeper come to clean up her house. Yet she looked extremely frail to me this week. As an only child, I worry much more than I care to admit. My mother admitted to me that she forgot my phone number the other day, but she has always managed to find her Barack Obama buttons when we are headed out for the day. When I took my mother to vote a month ago, I heard an elderly black man say that he was voting early for Barack Obama just in case he “kicked the bucket before November 4th.” Everyone laughed, but the statement worried me.
Back during the Democratic convention, my cousin Billie, an 83-year-old director, actor, and drama coach called me as if to reinforce how historic and unbelievable this moment in time was. She talked about how she never dreamed she would see such a day. This was coming from a woman who has not only performed with the very best actors of any era, but who has trained some of the best that Hollywood and Broadway have to offer. I worry about her health in almost the same way as I worry about my mother’s health. She admitted that she had endured some recent health problems but was seeing a nutritionist that had prescribed a diet that had improved her overall well-being. She sounded good on the phone, so I worried less. Yet I still worry. In addition to being a supremely talented director, actor, and drama coach, she is a skilled diplomat and when necessary, a gifted liar (smile)—all great actors are! I have heard her skirt around the truth to deter me from worrying. Sometimes it works; sometimes it does not.
This week I found out that Barack Obama’s grandmother Madelyn Dunham was in declining health. The fact that Barack’s grandmother is a year younger than my mother Syble, and only a few years older than my cousin Billie made me a bit more anxious. I am not worried about Barack’s ability to win the Whitehouse or his ability to chart a new course for this nation. I do admit, however, to worrying that there might be some people who might not be around to see it.
I want Obama to win, not simply for myself, and all of us who have made phone calls, donated money and time, but for all of those old folks who never thought such a day would happen. My older relatives have seen this nation at its absolute worst. They remember having to keep silent as they endured the insults of racist whites; they remember being beaten and jailed for looking in the wrong direction or for staring at some white man's ugly cousin. And, too many Black women remember a time when any attractive Black female had to be cautious around white men. Rape was often the payback to a black woman who had spurned the attention of any white man. There was not likely to be any trial, and if so, there would be no conviction of the rapists. These Black elders, male and female, have waited their entire lives for a moment like the one we will see in less than a week. As an African-American, I have heard all the varied responses to a potential Obama presidency. I even heard one misguided white woman admit that she feared Blacks would retaliate against white Americans for past grievances. Oh well.
I do not know any black person who wants to settle two-hundred-year-old plus scores. All that I, and they, wish is to see Barack Obama win this election, and then strut himself, and his wonderful, brilliant wife and two daughters into that Big House on Pennsylvania Avenue. I personally wish this for my country and my elders who have paid the fullest measure for this moment in time!!
Peace and Love!
YES, WE SHALL!!
Copyright © 2008 by Leslye J Allen
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