Weepy Politics

Politics rarely make me emotional, other than outrage when compromise is the only certainty for every elected official. I suppose compromise is what we hope for rather than outright financial malfeasance or corruption on a level that would mean your elected officials being taken away in hand cuffs.

But yesterday was that rare moment in my life. I am a part of a generation, raised on the myth of Camelot, the offspring of John and Jackie Kennedy, our generation's Prince. We did not experience first hand that moment in our history when anything and everything seemed possible. A man walked on the moon as our country was being divided by the war, civil rights, and the loudest argument for the cultural legitimacy of what it meant to be an American. What followed those magical moments was one heartbreak after another as each of the leaders of this era was gunned down, meeting their fate in such a final way. Their fate, unfortunately, also sealed our country's fate. What followed, the eruption of divides and the cynicism coming from Washington felt, somehow, inevitable. See, I wasn't even born when President Kennedy was shot, so I have no ability to recall for anyone what I was doing when I learned the news. For those from this era, they can recall with such exact details of that moment when they learned their youthful innocence and hope had come to an end. This one moment would, in so many ways, shape our country's fate for generations.

So, it was surprising to me to find myself getting weepy as I listened to the rousing, heartfelt, impassioned speech given by Senator Ted Kennedy. There's nothing like listening to Senator Kennedy give a speech on the Senate floor, covered on C-Span. This man's unerring commitment for all the truly liberal causes of the day is one that should inspire us. If not for that fateful night when his demons were too great, the outcome of one error in judgment sealing his fate to forever remain a Senator, we might have had a third Kennedy in the highest office in the land, carrying the torch left in mid-flame by his brother.

Why, you might ask did I find myself so moved by this political speech? For the first time in my life, it didn't feel like politics as usual, but something more profound in what was occurring on that stage. Yes, there was the unmistakable torch of the Kennedy legacy being passed to the unlikely of heirs, Barak Obama. But there was something grander, more important than just a legacy, more myth than reality, that was being touted. It was a sense that we, at this moment in our country's history, has a chance to bank on a risk. Like all risks, the outcome is uncertain. We might all wake up from this euphoric trance to find this man, whose life story is in itself an embodiment of the possibilities of our country, is just human and like all the rest. But I hope not. As all of those who are betting on him are hoping not.

As Senator Kennedy's speech reached that peak when the roof of the building seemed ready to erupt, I felt my eyes well up. I knew I was watching something historical. I knew this Democratic Primary was historical. And for once, I wanted this sense of possibility and hope to be something my son experiences in his short life. So, that when he is of voting age, a black man, or a woman, or a black woman, or a biracial man or woman, or a gay woman or man, running for the highest office in the land will not be the central part of their election. But that they are running because they are no different than any other politician that came before them. Whether he wins or she wins the nomination, something remarkable has already happened in our country. We've all overcome the notion that either a black man or a white women could ever run for the highest office of the land in any serious manner. We know now, after yesterday, just how serious both of their candidacy is for them, their parties, and for our country. And so, that is why I felt myself weeping as I listened to these seasoned politicians speak. For once, it felt historic for all the right reasons, even if it was all still just political theater.