What the Blue State Democrats do for the Red State Democrats!
Source: al.com, by Brit Blalock
A female presidential candidate offers encouragement to little girls with big dreams
Back in 2008, I graduated from college and moved into my first "grown up" apartment with a few friends. The complex we settled on was in a suburb just south of Birmingham and not far from the university we'd attended. That year, my roommate Caroline and I followed the presidential election very closely—holding debate watching parties, making T-shirts and doing our very best to stay informed. The financial crisis had begun, and we were desperate to be involved in its resolution as brand-new members of the American workforce.
On the night that Barack Obama won the presidency, we heard loud cheering coming from outside in the parking lot. We poked our heads out the door of our first floor unit and realized that a large group of our black neighbors had started celebrating the victory in the central area of the complex. We were desperate to join in on the festivities, feeling like it had been a true triumph for the country.
As we walked out of our apartment and into the open space, I felt a distinct communal pause from our neighbors. In that pause, I sensed a horrible weight. I felt the fear that some of them might have had—that maybe these two white women were coming to quiet them or to complain about the noise. I didn't know many of them well; I'd mostly just greeted them in passing throughout my handful of months living in the complex. I stopped momentarily to consider if joining in with their revelry was appropriate. I was worried that my presence could be viewed as intrusive. But I thought of my own personal joy at the outcome of the election, and I couldn't help but step forward into the gathering with arms held high and voice raised in jubilation.
The group took Caroline and I in both graciously and enthusiastically. Although we couldn't comprehend what that win felt like as black Americans, we understood the weight of the moment in history, and we were one in spirit with their excitement. I think about that night in November often. I consider how fortunate I was to have lived in that very instant and to have been a part of such joy with near strangers.
Why have I written to tell you this story today? Because, like many women in this country, I spent a girlhood dreaming of becoming the president of the United States. When people asked me what I wanted to be "when I grew up," the answer came easily. I dreamed of naive but heartfelt ways that I could help people and make America a better place for everyone. My parents fostered these aspirations and never insinuated that future obstacles would be insurmountable.
Somewhere along the line of my adolescence, though, I stopped believing. I looked at how difficult it was for women around me to rise to the top—my talented mother included—and I felt deeply discouraged. Even though enormous advances in equality had been made, it seemed like the odds were still stacked against me and the other women I knew and loved.
Now the possibility of having a female president is real. Very real. And in my opinion, she's also the most prepared person to lead our nation, regardless of her sex/gender. Let me be clear by saying that I don't think people should vote for Hillary just because she's a woman, nor am I saying the election of the first black American and the election of the first female American are the same experience.
What I am saying is this: If I am fortunate enough to witness the day that Hillary Clinton is victorious, I will once again run into the streets with my hands in the air. I will cheer and likely weep. And I will feel, once again, like this country has been made better.
http://www.al.com/opinion/index.ssf/2016/07/a_female_presidential_candidat.html#incart_most-comments