Last Night: the People's Reaction and Obama's Speech

Crossing the streets of downtown Athens around eight o’clock, I could feel a charge in the air. It was not so much the energy of hope, as that of expectation. News was starting to trickle in, and the shape of the final outcome of the election could be glimpsed. Still, there was doubt. The last eight years had given corruption plenty of opportunity to become entrenched, and I thought that there would surely be another technicality, another shadow play. It seemed like everyone was holding their breath. When they released it, would it be a yell of triumph or a cry of outrage?

I went to a sports bar to watch the news for a little while. All screens were tuned to the election, and once again it struck me how much like sports coverage the reports sounded. Team colors, mascots, armchair quarterbacking: politics in America looks and sounds like pro football. It was just about as exciting, too: I found that I could not bring myself to sit still while the numbers slowly dripped in, accompanied by droning, exhaustive analysis of hypothetical and provisional numbers. (No, I’m not much of a sports fan.) So I left the sports bar and headed towards my room. On the way I passed through the student center, and briefly observed a celebration the third floor. It was there that I first saw evidence of truly positive energy, in the form of loud music, pizza, and dancing. The crowd was large and loud, and no-one was really watching the screen: these people had come out expecting to celebrate an Obama victory.

About two hours later, I decided to head over to the house of a friend who was watching the election. I hadn’t heard any more news, because I don’t keep a television anymore, and using the Internet to keep up with real time is tedious. Walking across town again, I saw a definite change in mood: people were roaming the streets in groups, chatting and laughing and letting out triumphant yells like, “It’s Obama, bitch!” It was pretty easy to figure out that things were going well. I walked down Court Street past the polling place, now closed, and the bars, now overflowing. When I reached my friends’ house, they were eager to share the news: Ohio had gone for Obama, and it was a landslide victory on the national level. It felt like a weight had fallen away: hope might be justified, after all.

I think that Obama gave his speech that night knowing that his audience would have similar feelings: a dreadful burden of expectation that had just seen everything they had hoped and worked for come true that night. This would be a crowd running high on emotion, and so his speech began with emotions. He spoke of how he shared their triumph, rather than vice versa: he gave all credit to the people who contributed to his campaign. He spoke of how this was a validation of their hopes, and of belief in change. However, he also sought to ground his audience: he reminded them that although this great day was the result of all their hard work, there were now even greater challenges ahead: "This victory alone is not the change we seek. It is only the chance for us to make that change." This was a vital point, and I am glad he put it so forcefully, because there are many real problems to deal with, and surely there will be new ones as well. Last night represented a fresh start for many people, a time when every day might now bring change. But it is not going to happen all at once. People must be realistic, without losing sight of their hopes for the next three months.