Not much has happened to me as an Iranian, a foreigner in this country for the past thirty years. A few fights and angry exchanges here and there, but I have been left alone for the most part. I came to a very “blond, blue-eyes” region in America with black hair and dark skin, but managed to make way more friends than enemies right off the bat and was treated well.
I kept thinking about that while I watched tears rolling down Jesse Jackson’s face tonight. He was born and raised here in this country. I kept thinking of what he may have gone through, what he heard, endured, how he managed to keep it together and how hopeful he was when JFK came onto the scene. I kept thinking how proud he must have been to walk with Martin Luther King and how he dedicated his life to equality.
He stood there crying after they announced Obama as the president elect. I could only guess what he was thinking and how he was feeling. All I knew was that his time has come. After decades of inequality, injustice, and inhumanity towards the color of his skin, he must feel a little relief.
This moment was and this movement is much bigger than Barak Obama and Jesse Jackson. It is a revolution in American thinking. From the gut wrenching moment of when a young Kansan kid showed me scars on a tree where he pointed out, “this is where we used to hang blacks from” to tonight, there have been many images and many moments that has left me in disbelief.
No, this is not going to make up for any or all of what has taken place in this country and how it behaved when it comes to blacks, but it is a huge step towards healing and finally lending a listening ear.
When Hillary Clinton and Barak Obama announced their candidacy for the office of the President of the United States, I said that this country is not ready for a black or a woman to become the president, not yet. Boy was I wrong!
After years of disappointment in American decisions and judgments, tonight has been a humbling moment for this naysayer, this pessimist of a person. And I confess, I have never been happier to be so wrong.
After seeing two elections being stolen and cheated away from righteousness, I had given up all hope. I am glad to be proven wrong, when I thought we would have another white, good old boy who hated the rest of the world.
This is a true night, a pure and just night, a night as real as Jesse Jackson’s tears. No one can steal it away from me, no one can cheat me, lie to me about it, or weasel it away.
Tomorrow morning, unlike the morning after in 2000 and 2004, I won’t wake up to what I think is a night mare in continuance.