The Day After: Yes We Can!
The Day After: Yes We Can!
Day After: Aiyanna Sezak-Blatt – Yes We Can!
FIREWORKS CRACK in the distance and silent tears stream down my cheeks and those of my electrified group of friends in Asheville, North Carolina, who have gathered to mark this extraordinary moment in American history. Barack Obama is the 44th president of the United States.
North Carolina, the last state in the southeast to declare a winner, has transformed its political identity by endorsing a Democrat for the first time since 1976. In this year’s election season, North Carolina teetered from red to blue, leaving its precious delegates in the balance in a brutal race for the White House. Asheville—a city known as both a liberal bohemia and a bubble disconnected from the reality of the Bible belt—became an especially crucial target on the political map, attracting key political figures from both parties.
Michelle Obama delivered a powerful address at the University of North Carolina at Asheville in May, when her husband was still vying for the Democratic nomination. Soul legend Gladys Knight marked the occasion by singing “America the Beautiful.” With eloquence and grace, Michelle took the stage. In a speech that emphasized the importance of long-term problem solving in order to build a stronger and more responsible American future, Michelle promised that she and her husband would work hard every single day for the betterment of this country.
Four months later, Barack Obama was welcomed by thousands of supporters at the stadium of Asheville High School, where an extremely diverse crowd waited for hours in the sweltering Southern heat to listen to his speech firsthand. When Barack took the stage the crowd began to chant as one: “Yes We Can! Yes We Can!”
The effect that these rallies had on me was only fully realized three weeks later, when Sarah Palin made a public appearance at the Asheville Civic Center, located at the edge of the bustling city center.
An impulse led me to town that afternoon, where a startling scene awaited. On one side of the street stood the Republican supporters, shouting and waving signs that read: “This Momma Stomps Obama/ Obama Bin Lyin’/ We Vote Pro-Life! No to socialism in America!/ I’m voting for the old man and the hot chick! Read my lipstick!” On the other side of the street stood the Democratic supporters, equally boastful of their political superiority: “No to robbing the poor/ Terrorist is a code for black/ Silly woman, go home/ Elitist pigs!” The atmosphere was tense, saturated with impatience, anger, and judgment.
Republican supporters shouted at the top of their lungs, “Get a job!” while Democratic supporters screamed, “Tina Fey is more qualified.” I stared and stumbled through the streets trying to make sense of the scene, horrified at the ugly representations of a politically divided state.
I found myself taking comfort in Michelle and Barack Obama’s optimistic notion that surely we can come together and agree with each other, despite our personal differences. And as the day wore on, this optimism suddenly became the only issue of lasting value in my mind.
If there is one thing that this election has impressed upon me, it’s the need for unity: for Americans to acknowledge their shared struggles and shared hopes. This unity is the bridge that Barack Obama’s message will, I believe, allow us to build. It fills me with excitement, with faith that an unanticipated voice for hope can change our nation’s future.
Aiyanna Sezak-Blatt lives in Asheville, North Carolina where she works as an arts writer for the I Mountain Xpress, a local and independent newspaper.
