Now is his time

A few years ago, visiting friends in the Chicago suburb of Oak Park, I heard speculation that Barack Obama might be vying for the Democratic presidential nomination. My friends were excited by the idea, and wondered what would happen if both he and Hillary Clinton decided to run in the same election season.

At the time, it seemed I was the only progressive in the country who had missed the moment Obama burst onto the national scene with his address at the 2004 Democratic National Convention. I’d burned out on national politics around the time that Bill Clinton’s promise to end the military’s discrimination against gays and lesbians morphed into “don’t ask/don’t tell.” The Bush era only solidified my disengagement. I still pulled a lever in the ballot box, but that was the extent of my involvement. As far as I was concerned, government was not on my side and never would be.

So although I’d heard Obama was someone to watch, I hadn’t yet clued in to his appeal. The main thing I knew about him was his youthfulness. “Isn’t he awfully young?” I remember asking. “Maybe he should wait a few years.”

“Now is his time, though,” one of my friends predicted.

Was she ever right.

Cut to January 2008: I’m at my parents’ house the night Obama wins the South Carolina primary. The cable news station yammers in the background, tallying results. Though still largely inattentive to the political scene, I sense a gathering excitement in myself and my family about this bid for the nomination.

Then Obama’s victory speech begins, and we all fall silent. Listening to him, I want to weep with recognition and relief.

I hear him say things about healing deep-seated divisions, about moving beyond the status quo of bitter partisanship and corporate-dominated government. I hear a new kind of faith in the American people, faith that we can rise above fear and mistrust to reach for common ground.

As the speech ends, the hush in the room continues. We’re all moved by this candidate’s authenticity. We’re captured by his vision of uniting this fractured country.

Since that January night I’ve studied his positions further and found nothing to dissuade me from supporting him. I already appreciated the courage he showed in opposing the Iraq War while seeking national office. My respect only deepened as I learned of his 20 years’ experience organizing unemployed Chicago steelworkers. I discovered he had a history of reaching across party lines, and he had been responsible for some major ethics reforms both at state and national levels. I liked his refusal to fund his campaign with corporate dollars.

I found his emphasis on diplomacy refreshing, as I learned he would try meeting with governments the current administration had written off as sworn enemies.

I liked his willingness to admit his mistakes — another contrast with both Bush and Sen. Clinton, neither of whom seemed inclined to admit even that most heinous of errors, the Iraq War.

Then there was his gift of oratory. I saw that his ability to inspire people would be a critical presidential skill in the coming years. With frightening issues like climate change, a global water crisis and pandemic disease becoming ever more dire, we would need a leader who could break through our complacency and ask us to live less lavishly.

As my enthusiasm grew I began to get involved. I’ve made calls on Obama’s behalf to voters across the country. I’ve made numerous campaign contributions. I’ve written letters to the editor, sent comments to The Diane Rehm Show, e-mailed friends and family with passionate entreaties to take a second look at this man. I’ve connected with likeminded folks to work on local voter registration drives. I even convinced my dad to canvass in Cincinnati the weekend before Ohio’s primary.

My story mirrors many others’. The exact moment we began to believe may be different, but the transformation from apathy to engagement is the same. Why would so many allow their cynicism to be breached by this particular candidate? It’s simple. Sen. Obama represents the kind of courageous leadership that the nation needs now.

I believe we are at a crossroads, and we can’t afford to let this opportunity slip by. We need a national government that is grounded in the concerns of real people, that doesn’t scapegoat for political gain, that builds on our shared dreams instead of dividing us.

Obama’s inclusiveness and integrity are sadly rare in a politician. So is his willingness to speak the uncomfortable truth time and again, as exemplified in his memorable speech on race relations. Issues of race, class and gender have been ill-used by many politicians in pursuit of votes. But instead of cynically exploiting our differences, here is a candidate who faces the pain of our history squarely, continues to believe in goodness and invites each of us to look to our common hopes as Americans.

His faith in the American public inspires me to believe in the collective goodwill of my countrymen and -women as well — media messages to the contrary.

People with a foot in two worlds are uniquely qualified to build bridges. While Obama’s positive message alone would earn my support, his multicultural background gives him a gut-level understanding of differentness. Because he is “someone who has little pieces of America all in me,” as he recently called himself, he strives to leave no one behind.

Globally as well as domestically, an Obama presidency would spell a new era. I long for the day other countries will look at America with new eyes, and I believe he is the only candidate who can begin to repair our relationships on the world stage. He understands that the hunger pangs of a child across the globe cannot be dismissed as someone else’s concern. He repeatedly emphasizes that the security of the American people is bound up with the security of all people.

What would the world say about Americans if we elect a man who consistently criticized the Iraq War, whose middle name is “Hussein”? Would they realize we are ready to make amends for the devastating warmongering of the Bush Administration? Would the door open, just a crack, for something like redemption?

Now is his time, indeed. Now is our time.

More from 'Primary Matters' 

David Hoppe’s “Indiana counts (for once)”

Laura McPhee’s “In favor of Clinton”

Michael Dabney’s “The delegate (and super delegate) factor”

Michael Dabney’s “Establishing a home base”