I wrote a letter tonight to the children I hope to have someday.
I hadn’t dared to hope that they would be reading in their history books about Barack Obama, the first African-American US president-elect – but now that I know they will be, I want them to have a firsthand account too. I want them to know what it was like to be here, the victory shouts and the tears, the prayers and the beautiful faces of the people to whom this meant everything.
I want them to be able to feel the excitement I felt, the inability to sleep, the knowledge that soon we’ll be waking up in a freer world. I want them to smell the air as the winds of changes shift.
And I want them to know why we felt this way, too. I want them to know how it was for us before, and how badly we wanted it to be different for them. I want to tell them how hard we worked – and that it was for them and their future that we did it.
