Today will be an intense day.
I dropped my son off at daycare for the first time.
It’s Election Day.
I’ve only had 3 and a half hours of sleep and I’ve already drank two lattes.
I’m wondering about the germs in the daycare and whether I should get the social security numbers of the preschool workers. I am wondering about the world that I am leaving to my son and my 1, 2, or 3 unborn children. (Yes honey…we aren’t done yet.) Will they be able to get a job? Will I ever pay off my student loans? Will they learn to be compassionate and help others? Should I teach them Mandarin, Spanish, or Arabic?
I am a myriad of emotions.
Two years ago, in late October, I prayed for my son to not be born on two days: Halloween and Election Day. I figured it was bad karma to be born on a day that celebrated monsters, and worse karma to be born on a day that celebrated politicians. As fate should have it, as people went to the polls in early November, I was driving to the hospital to meet my son.
Today, I think about the world I am leaving to him.
Though too young to understand, I dropped him off today to introduce him to a world that my instincts want to protect him from. As I drove away from his school and headed towards my voting precinct, I unexpectedly came across the Presidential motorcade parked in my neighborhood.
The Presidential motorcade was parked in my community.
…on the southside…
(Four blocks from a Harold’s Fried Chicken.)
I was instantly moved to tears.
I am leaving my son a world where the President can be equally versed in Jay Z and Bruce Springsteen, Bach and Mozart.
I am leaving my son a world that can make a Harvard-educated, bi-racial, community organizer and law professor the most powerful person in the world.
I am leaving my son a world where he can be President.