Show, Don't Tell

As I looked from face to face, the joy was universal. Perfect strangers grinned widely at me, and I grinned right back at them. Choruses of "O-BA-MA!" and "YES, WE CAN!" rang out along H Street, echoing off of the tall buildings that surrounded us. No one seemed to mind the steady drizzle of rain--nothing could dampen our spirits on this night.

The streets were packed with bands of people walking every which way, pouring in and out of bars and apartments, taxis and subways. Each red traffic light was an invitation to dance in the street, and dance we did to the rhythm of the chants, barely noticing the lines demarcating the crosswalks.

I clapped. I shouted. I debated universal health insurance. I laughed. I high-fived. I hugged. I stood in a bar, surrounded by students and professionals, men and women, blacks and whites (and everything in between), and I did not stand alone.

We stood and we watched the speech. The inspiration. The reassurance. The potential. We smiled at the thought of the Obama daughters' new puppy. We clapped for David Plouffe, and we admitted sheepishly that we were happy he would stop emailing us, now. We looked at the faces in the Chicago crowds, and we were moved, and maybe even shed a tear ourselves.

I walked home. My apartment was dark, quiet, calm. I breathed a sigh of relief as I snuggled into my bed, and prayed a little prayer of thanksgiving. I closed my eyes, and looked forward to tomorrow's dawn.

There are very few countries that live up to their creed, that live up to the documents of their founding, that all men are created equal. And, tonight, America has proven itself on a world stage as a show country, not a tell country. They have shown that we have lived up to our creed. That we are what we say we are. And there's not a lot of countries [...] that can say that. [...] America, tonight, lives up to its promise.

- Jon Stewart, Indecision 2008, Nov. 4, 2008