First of all, I am beyond thrilled to have this man as the president:
Josh and I had just finished our shift standing a hundred feet from a polling place with a No on Prop 8 sign, and right when we got into the car and turned on the radio we heard Mr. John McCain saying “…and I concede the presidency…” we were shocked and surprised. It was quite a nice moment. A good story for “Where Were You When You Heard that Barack Obama Was Elected”?
I can’t quite completely celebrate.
Obviously (no on) Prop 8 was something that I was passionate about, and I am beyond disappointing and frustrated at it’s passing.
(To be fair, it’s not OFFICIAL, official. There are still votes to count. We haven’t conceded. But all the other headlines are declaring it’s passing).
I’m just heartbroken. I truly believed that it would fail. That the people of California would be above “writing discrimination into the constitution” in the year 2008.
I just don’t understand. And they abundance of Yes signs around Scripps Ranch make me want out more than ever.
Standing on that corner (in La Jolla) the night of the election also gave me hope. There were lots of honks, thumbs up and fists in the air. People walking by stopped to thank us and tell us that they voted no. Upon seeing us, a mom asked her daugher, “Christina, remember when we talked about marriage? Did you think that a boy could marry a boy?” The little girl nodded and smiled.
However, despite Christina’s backing , children posed our only opposition.
A little girl no older than eight sat in her dad’s pick up truck, and when she was stopped at a red light, looked at us and gave us a big thumbs down and scoweled.
At around 7:30 PM, a boy probably between eleven and fourteen rode past us on his bike. He yelled “Faggot!” as he rode us.
It was the parents of these children who passed Prop 8.
But the fight is just beginning. Court cases are starting today. And there’s definetley something to be said in that they only won by four percent.
But enough of that…
Barack Obama is such a success for America. And for maybe the first time in my short life, I feel proud to be an American.
(But not proud so much a Scripps Ranch-ian or a Californian).