The Morning Before

So it comes to this. So many have already cast their ballot with the eager anticipation of change. Droves of black men and women have already voted, it's been reported that over 50% of democrats and more that 40% of republicans have already made their choice at the polls. I've personally seen lines wrapped around buildings for days of early voting. It's certainly a phenomenon like the city of Detroit hasn't seen in a long time. It is bittersweet and scary yet, proud and glorious moment.

Why bittersweet? Because we just now realize the power we have in 2008. We just now have regained the wisdom to get involved, and it took a little selfish ambition to realize that. Some African Americans are voting because they can actually identify with a candidate through physical and circumstantial similarities. A physcial manefestation of our potential. And there is nothing wrong with that. I am slowly learning that you have to have an element of selfishness to survive.

But why did we have to be doubting Thomases? Why did we have to see with our eyes to take our power back? We needed this turn out to save affirmative action in Michigan. We needed this kind of entitlement and responsibility when electing out local leaders, instead we rested on the familiar faces and names that our grandparents remembered, or didn't vote at all, leaning on our elders to lead us.

Scary? Yes, horrifying. In the days leading up to this, I've done my best at avoiding political conversation, in fear of witnessing a world of ignorance, insensitivity and intolerance. Well, that conversation found me last week and was I sorely vexed. I admire hope and faith, but such virtues of a zeleaous nature can be blinding to the point of dangerous naivete; looking down the road ever so optimistically, oblivious of the snake pit set in your path.

But getting off my soapbox, I realize that was then and this is now. Affirmative Action is abolished in Michigan, that disturbing conversation is over and all I have is the future.

Tomorrow morning I'm purposed to get up at 4:00 a.m. to mentally and spirtually prepare myself for a long day. I am reporting at 5:45 a.m. to work as a line marshall at a downtown polling site. I've witnessed the buzz of election day voting in previous elections. I remember how anxious each candidates' volunteers were, desperately shoving materials in the hands, arms, bags, mouths of anyone brave enough to give eye contact, and to those who wouldnt. I remember opposing party members trying to distract, disrupt and discourage voters. This was four years ago, and I was just there for an hour, to cast my vote. Tomorrow, I'm there until the polls close helping keep order in the melee that is election day.

This is the front line of battle, where the rubber meets the road.