Monday night's rally

Now that we've changed our blog format, I now have a place to write about the Obama rally that I attended on Monday! It makes sense here! Yay!

I arrived at Joe Louis Arena at about 6:10 PM, and the speakers were scheduled to start at about 8:30. Security for these types of political events is basically like going through the airport, so I knew that this would not be a fast-moving line. For about 90 minutes, about 20,000 of us waited in various lines outside the arena (thank goodness for good weather!) that snaked for hundreds of yards, up and down all the sidewalks around the Joe.

I'd like to echo a notable thing about the crowd that's been mentioned in all of the news reports: its remarkable diversity in terms of age, race, ethnicity, and gender. (In light of the recent story about the experience of two young Muslim women at this rally, it's clear that not all the volunteers were as thrilled about some aspects of this diversity as most of us attendees were.) It's nothing new for me to note here that Michigan, for the most part, is a very segregated state, racially and ethnically; this rally was something different, and it stood in contrast to the daily realities of life in this state, in which most of us spend our free time surrounded by people who look like us.

I made my way through security and then started trying to figure out a way to get a good view of the stage and podium. After a couple of conversations with a volunteer usher and a Detroit Police officer, I managed to find a spot on the floor of the stadium (where the ice is during hockey season) about 100 feet in front of where Senator Obama (and Gov. Granholm, and Vice President Gore) would be speaking. On various news clips of the event, I haven't seen myself in the crowd facing Obama, but I have been able to find the 6' 6" guy with a toddler in his arms whom I was standing next to.

Now, let's get to the point: what did I think of the rally? Well, not surprisingly, as an ardent Obama supporter, I was thrilled to be there. Senator Obama gave what I imagine was essentially his classic economic stump speech, so the text of the speech itself was nothing new, and thus nothing newsworthy. It's surely not surprising for me to say that he's a remarkably skilled speaker--much better, I think, than Bill Clinton, whom I saw speak in person when he was campaigning in 1992 and 1996. There's something special about Obama's ability to connect with an audience. It's become a familiar thing at his speeches: someone yells out "I LOVE YOU!" and he replies with "I love you back." The crowd, as always, goes wild! There was another moment I recall in which he was gently chastizinig the crowd for booing at the mention of Senator Clinton's name when young man above and to the right of me booed again, and Sen. Obama turned directly to him, pointed to him, and said "I'm talking to you, you up there."

What was remarkable about this event to me, though, was the energy and sense of optimism and connection between the members of the audience. Directly to my left in the audience was an African-American man, probably in his 40s, who had worked on the line with one of the Big Three and had recently lost his job. Directly behind me, another African American man in his 50s, who kept calling family members and friends throughout the speech and holding up his phone to catch the words and the noise of the crowd. The three of us talked a bit here and there, and commented on what was being said. The man behind me helped me find the best angles for my photos, and the three of us yelled out "NO!" together when Obama said that he'd been talking for too long. At one moment in the speech, when Obama was talking about the divisions in our country that so many people are just waiting to exploit, divisions along lines of gender, age and race, he addressed the crowd and said something like "You here, black and white, young and old . . . you can say to them 'not this time!'" The man next to me, to my left, grabbed my hand and raised our hands up towards the lights and the ceiling together, and we both cheered and smiled and, at least to me, it felt like what Obama was saying just might come to pass . . . maybe? Please?

I know that moments like this are the essence of why some people can't stand Senator Obama. They think he is naive, or that he is profoundly manipulative and is getting all of our collective hopes up only to abandon us if he makes it into office. I tend to be a pretty cynical person myself, but I refuse to believe that it must be either naive or diabolical to talk about the potential for some sort of racial, ethnic, religious, and political unity in this country. How pathetic are we, really, if to assert hopefulness along these lines is either dense or evil? Senator Obama doesn't ignore race. He mentions it explicitly, he sensitively and carefully talks about its lasting importance as an issue in our country (as he did in that remarkable speech in March), and then he dares to suggest that maybe we can do better.