Oba Obama!

Today we are living through a truly historic moment, and so I will shift from my usual posts about markets and investing to talk about politics and the meaning of this moment.

Symbols matter!

Yesterday, I set out to vote. I knew who I was going to vote for. I knew who is likely to win. And I had voted before. At the same time, I had forgotten just how empowering the simple act of voting can be. It is strange, in a way, because everyone knows that - except in the rarest of circumstances - one single vote seldom changes the course of an election. And yet, the feeling that you as a citizen have done some part to determine the course of a country in crisis is something so precious and validating that one can understand why people fight and die to secure these rights.

It was only last night, as I was watching the election returns on television, that it dawned on me - in an emotional way - how significant this moment is in our collective history. I started to realize that this was a truly historic moment and I was there participating in it. If September 11 was our generation’s equivalent of Pearl Harbor or assassination of Kennedy, this moment is a triumphant experience, something like the fall of the Berlin Wall, or landing a man on the moon. It is a tremendous achievement: the election of America’s first black president.

It is one of the things that gives even more meaning to the campaign’s call “Yes, we can!”

Whether Obama’s presidency is ultimately a success or not, this moment will go down in history as a milestone on the American journey. Future schoolchildren will read about this moment and reflect on what it means for America’s history, and what it means for the hope and promises of opportunity that are part of what it means to be an American or to admire America.

As a white man, I am deeply proud that we have come to the point where we can elect a black man to be the leader of all Americans. He was not elected because he was black. He was not placed in this position because the traditional majority felt guilty or wanted to placate demands of a minority group. Barak Obama was elected because, in a time of deep crisis, he gained the trust of those who voted for him, and at least 50% of the country, myself included, felt that he was the most qualified for the nation’s highest office.

I thought John McCain's concession speech was very gracious - pointing out to Republicans that even if they lost the race, as Americans we can still be proud of what this means for bleaching the stain of slavery that has shamed us from our very beginnings. John McCain is a deeply honorable man, and I could see himself extracting himself from the campaign machine, and returning to the kind of person he wanted to be. The electoral process forced him to be a mudslinger, and I had always gotten the feeling that his advisors pushed him further and further in that direction. What I saw last night on the Republican side was the re-emergence of John McCain, the great man, the man that I admired and even considered as “the best hope for the Republican party” at the start of the race.

This election has not been about race, which is probably a good thing. But the results means so much about race in a country that is still struggling with the legacy of slavery. Individually, I do not think I have actively discriminated against anyone because of their race, but I am aware that I have in many ways benefited indirectly from a system that has denied benefits to others based on their race. Although the election of a black president does not mean the end of race as a real issue in American society, it does meaningfully send a message from the white community to the black community that says, “despite our differences, and our not entirely resolved history,” we are capable of looking beyond skin color, even for this, the most powerful office in the land.

As a white man, this election says to the black community in a forceful way: look, we are not all bigots. We trust the black community enough to have a black man as our leader. Having a symbol like that is an important tool for addressing the fact that so-called “white guilt” is part of what impedes conversations that are “healing” between the races, and help traditionally discriminated groups assume both the benefits and the responsibilities of equal citizenship.

By “white guilt,” I mean the the nagging discomfort many whites feel about their implicit connection to past slavery and current discrimination, and a discomfort along the lines of “should I really be talking about this,” that comes up any time there is a discussion about race in a mixed audience. I confess to feeling some discomfort and uncertainty right now as I write this, and yet for healing and a better society it is essential to be able to have a conversation where members of different races can air their questions and concerns, and do it in a way that is respectful. Misunderstandings will come up, but it is important to recognize in each other good faith efforts to come to a mutual understanding. We need to create an environment where mis-steps and misunderstandings are treated as topics for reconciliation, and not points for attack, name-calling, and finger-pointing.

On the one hand, most modern generation whites I know try hard not to discriminate against african americans or other racial groups, and yet it is clear that racial inequality (and some discrimination) still exists. Many whites wonder “how angry is the black community at us for the sins of our predecessors,” “do we have responsibilities of atonement, even if we never directly contributed to the inequality we see today?” If there is atonement, is this a collective atonement for the past, accomplished between communities through policy tools, or are there individual demands on me? To what extent can I give voice to things that I find hard to digest about the black community - such as the depiction of black women in many rap videos (this issue is not exclusive to black culture, but is illustrative of the kind of difficulty I might have) - or should I, being white, just keep quiet about that? Are there norms that were considered acceptable for the black community as an oppressed minority that should now be revised for use in a new role as equal citizens?

Citizenship is a combination of both rights and responsibilities. Clearly it was a gross injustice to deny a minority community the rights they are due as citizens - indeed denying citizenship itself - but are there responsibilities that go along with citizenship too? And do those new responsibilities have any implications for what we as united Americans see as laudable or topics for criticism? Do the crimes of past generations of whites mean that present generations of whites have no place in that discussion? If there is a place for the white community there, what are safe and non-threatening manners of bringing such topics up so they can be discussed and resolved? What are the items that we can come to an agreement on, and what items can we simply decide to “agree to disagree” on?

The Republican campaign’s shameless exploitation of the Jeremiah Wright video in the final stages of the campaign was in many ways a direct attempt to turn nagging white guilt into white fear and thereby swing the vote away from a black candidate. Thankfully it did not work for the majority. It stoked the question that may run through many white minds, progressive or otherwise, asking “does the black community just want to be treated fairly, as they surely deserve, or is there a collective desire for revenge.” Certainly the Wright video sounded full of anger, disgust, and maybe a call for vengeance - and for many white viewers it raised the question “is that how ‘they’ feel about us?” (I hope not) “is this a momentary outburst of frustration, or is a deep seeded resentment?” (hopefully just understandable frustration) and “should we be scared of a black president” (I hope not). More thoughtful white viewers may have also asked “how representative is this?” (truth be told, I have no idea, and I consider myself one of the more informed)

I thought it was a low blow for the Republican campaign to try to do this, but the fact that it seems to have fallen mostly on deaf ears is a sign of progress.

It has been so long since there has been any attempt for a national discussion on race, and so instead of resolving these tensions, they have simply gone underground, ready to erupt like unexploded land mines in the face of unexpected events.

I admit that I am a little afraid to publish this post. Will it be misinterpreted? Will it cause anger? If so, will that anger come from the black community, the white community, or some other community? I am not trying to offend, point fingers, lay blame for anything. I am just trying to figure out how to come up with a set of norms and understandings that allow us to live together comfortably and as equals. We are in desperate need of a conversation among the races to resolve these issues, to come to a kind of “rules of the road” that we can all comfortably live by and feel that past grievances have been (at least mostly) resolved. This conversation should not be the central effort of our politics - there are so many issues threatening all of us right now - but it should be a part.

And our election of Barak Obama is a unique opportunity to do that.

There is something else that is special about Obama’s election - his ability to inspire most of our better natures, and his ability to lead. In a time of crisis, this is perhaps his most important asset, but I will leave that discussion to another post because, for today, the advance that this country has made in on the racial front is the most historically significant achievement of this cycle.