Pocket Change You Can Believe In

For months now, I have been disillusioned by politics and so called activism. A former die hard civil rights crudsader, I found myself disgusted by all these "causes", all of the propaganda, and all those who finally came out of hiding this campaign season, to simply wave the bumper stickers of their favorite partisan candidates for a few minutes a day, only to then return from the bandwagon to shuffling papers from desk drawer to desk drawer, not actually activating any of this newfound passion into their daily, mundane lives. I watched the debates with such cynicism, I brushed off political pamplets being handed out on subways, I avoided calls from friends who knew my political leanings and looked to me for inspiration. I was almost an anarchist! Had they found me with a subway pamplet, who knows.

I watched the campaign of Barack Obama closely although distancing myself from it. It was almost like seeing someone you loved so long and so much finally in front of you, and being afraid to touch them, afraid to embrace them- almost as if to do so would ruin or tarnish them in some way. Or like painting the background of a picture, and wanting to add additional layers but not being able to because of the wet paint. I guess looking back, I was in fact terrified of an Obama success. I suppose I was indeed having a bit of fear about the power of such a campaign and how defeating a failure would really be.

But peering out of the sides of curiously slanted eyes, I watched as ordinary people not usually involved with the political process dug in their designer knockoff jeans and gave 5 bucks, 100 bucks at a time to the Obama campaign. I sat in a sports bar in the middle of baseball season and watched young New York hipsters cheering louder for Obama accepting the democratic nomination as they would have if the Yanks could have managed to make the post season. I walked to drop off my prescription at Rite Aid only to be instantly interrogated about who I was going to vote for and given the latest poll information by an avid yet homeless and ragged Obama supporter who planned to vote for the very first time, all of her belongings dangling there off her personal shopping cart.

I didn't expect to care. Not be cynical, but I believe change is much greater than one person winning the world's biggest popularity contest. So it was the morning after the election when I barely had the money to pay my rent, and gathered all of my coins together to cash in when I realized how significant this change was. I watched all my brown pennies and silver nickels sift through the coin counting machine and I was amazed at how each little individual one added up to so very much. (And I was able to my rent.) Now that's change you can believe in.

Obama has re-inspired the individual. His message, though the fulfillment of its promises are yet to come, has taught those of us who are average that we count, that when we add up what little we think we have to add, that we are then powerful beyond measure. And on a more personal level, he has proved to this country that black men are capable of being articulate, powerful and not intimidating, gracious, in love, and have family values. God, I was thinking, when is the last time I have seen a black man and woman in love on tv, not on some sitcom? He has even re-awakened me, and I once again believe, like I used to for so long, that everything is possible.