The Difference a Day Makes

I am up late at night worrying about what I will do when I am laid off. What should I do next? Where will I live? When should I give up and move out of New York? It isn't an exaggeration to say I am terrified about my economic prospects.

The country is in an awful mess. My office had another 10% staff reduction a couple of weeks ago, and I suspect the lay offs will continue. The whole publishing industry is dying, so there are practically no job prospects for unemployed publishing professionals.

It is bizarre that under such circumstances, I am stirred by an event that doesn't effect me directly.

I was not an Obama supporter. I backed Hillary because, as a former Washington lobbyist, I knew she was a brilliant politician and I thought he was too inexperienced to be an effective president.

Yet, I could hardly focus on anything but the inauguration today. If I began to even ponder the transition that would take place, I got teary.

The whole office stopped to watch the proceedings on television. I felt foolish bringing a tissue with me to the lobby, and then watched half of my colleagues cry openly and share a big box of tissues.

I couldn't understand what was making me feel so emotional.

Seeing an African-American assume the presidency proves profound changes can happen in the U.S. Seeing an unapologetic liberal garner so much support leads me to believe things will get better. If McCain had won, I assume he would continue the horrid policies that led to this crisis. I would have no hope for recovery.

The expression on George W. Bush's face as he walked through the Capital crypt told a story I was eager to see come to fruition. In the past he had proudly claimed that he did not reflect on or feel regret for his actions. I found this boast deeply disturbing because it shut out hope that he would recognize the harm he caused or feel remorse for it.

As Bush moved toward the inaugural platform, he wore the expression of someone who had come to a dark realization. It appears that during the inauguration he finally realized how much people despise him, his policies, and his effect on the country.

I didn't hear it when I watched the ceremony, but I read in newspaper coverage that the crowd of two million people were loudly booing and hissing as he and Chaney stepped onto the platform. A moment later, the record-breaking large crowd was chanting "O-bam-a" as the president-elect entered the stage.

You could tell by the look on Bush's face that he was bracing under the rebuke. He is a man who prides himself on being liked, and he was just dissed by two million people in one of the most watched live events aired on media outlets around the world.

What is at issue isn't simply the rebuke of a person. It is the wholesale repudiation of his philosophy and policies. For eight years he and his ideological brethren have had free reign to test their ideas -- deregulation, markets managing themselves, trickle down economics, hawkish aggression, indulgence of short-sided gains -- and they have brought this country near to ruination.

It took a while to figure it out, but I realized the source of my tears was profound relief.

Reclaiming Pride

I had a wrecked bathroom to clean. The ceiling began sagging months ago, and it finally fell in two weeks ago. The repair was about as messy as the ceiling crashing down.

I thought I would listen to the We Are One concert while cleaning. Instead, I was glued to the computer screen for the entire concert. I don't have a television, so I watched online.

Before the concert started, my throat was tight with oncoming tears. Seeing the crowd at the decorated Lincoln Memorial made real the big transfer of power about to happen.

It surprised me that I was so emotional. The songs were mostly standards and I tend to regard celebrities as uninteresting. Yet, seeing Bruce Springsteen perform "The Rising" with a full gospel choir before Lincoln's statue made me choke up. It set the tone. This country has been through eight hellish years and now we are on the road to recovery.

Performance after performance emphasized the things I love about this country. Things that are discussed but discounted, such as diversity, plurality, culture, and tolerance. I love that I live in a country with such a rich musical culture. Americans watching the inauguration of a leader in France, Russia, China, or Brazil would most likely not be able to hum along to the tunes sung in celebration of those leaders. American music is popular world wide. I suspect most foreigners would recognize at least a third of the songs played at this concert.

I love that much of the music popular in this country has been made by disenfranchised and impoverished people -- from slaves and farm workers to rappers and American Idol winners. I loved seeing a gay men's choir sing with Josh Grobin and Broadway star via Trinidad Heather Headley. I loved that country superstar Garth Brooks was backed by a group of beaming, energetic teenagers that represented just about every race. I love that he generously gave one of those teenagers a moment in the spotlight.

U2s performance summed it up for me. Here were four men that grew up poor in Dublin, Ireland. At the inauguration ceremony of our country's first African-American president they played their hopeful song about Martin Luther King, Jr. and nonviolence on the very steps where MLK delivered his "I Have a Dream" speech. Bono basically told the audience that he was proud of America for this achievement. That the world would once again look upon the United States with respect.

I realized at that moment that this inauguration marks this country's shift from being an international disgrace to being the pride of the world. Although this country is in the grip of a crisis, it feels is as if we are emerging mindfully from a dark age into a renaissance.