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Barack Obama: The Reality Show
Aug 29, 2008
Yesterday, I got an e-mail from Patricia Moran, a longtime reader
who articulated what millions of people were feeling the morning after
Barack Obama became the official presidential standard bearer of his
party:
"When I was 16," Pat's e-mail read, "I used to work
before school in a small restaurant where my stepmother worked. One
morning, early, two black people and their child came in and tried to
sit down and order breakfast.
"My stepmother refused to serve them. I begged her to make them
hamburgers to go -- and she did. I still remember the look on the man's
face as I brought the hamburgers out to his car. That was 62 years ago!
"Last night, I saw a black man nominated for president of the
United States. No matter who you want for president, what a historic
moment for our country this is! We need to stop for a moment and
realize how FAR we have FINALLY come, and feel a little pride this
morning for our country. I know I am very proud!"
I never drank from a segregated fountain, but I'm old enough to
remember what it was like to sit on a yellow school bus chased by white
teenagers who objected to black kids integrating a school in their neighborhood.
It was an era when people were more upfront about their prejudices.
The kids who pelted our bus with water balloons and eggs and spit at
our windows when the bus came to a stop sign always made a game of it.
And of course, Philly cops never took it seriously until the
neighborhood zip guns came out.
A year after the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert Kennedy were
assassinated, and five years after the March on Washington, I couldn't
imagine a time when anyone with black skin could ever become president.
Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I Have a Dream" message was already the
most memorable speech in the world, but it seemed like science fiction
to me. By 1969, race relations were as tense as they had ever been in
America.
After all, the country could barely handle Nichelle Nichols' Lt.
Uhura character on "Star Trek." When NBC finally canceled the only
series on TV that featured a black character with a funny African name,
I was already cynical.
While my 9-year-old self was brooding on the back of a school bus in
Philly, what was the 8-year-old Barack Obama doing? Could he have
possibly imagined a scenario in which he would be running for president
39 years later?
If by some trick of 24th-century Star Trek technology, the Barack
Obama of 2008 had materialized in the bedroom of a chubby introvert
then living in Jakarta with his mother and stepfather, what would the
boy -- also named Barack Obama -- have thought of such startling news
from the future?
Obama 2008: "Barack, get up. You have an amazing life ahead of you. You've slept in long enough."
Obama 1969: Whoa! How did you get in here without mom seeing you? Who are you?
Obama 2008: "Listen carefully, Barack. I'm who you
will become four decades from now. I'm Barack Obama, the Democratic
Party's nominee for president of the United States in 2008."
Obama 1969: You're me and you're from the future? That doesn't seem likely. If you're really me, how did I get so skinny?
Obama 2008: "Arugula and basketball. Plus more
ambition than you can imagine sitting in this dark room all day,
Barack. Did you hear me? I said I'm the Democratic nominee for
president."
Obama 1969: I heard you, but I figure you're crazy or something. Black people can't be president of the United States.
Obama 2008: "You haven't experienced the future,
but you know what's possible and what's not in 2008? You're more
talented than I remember, Barack."
Obama 1969: Barry. Call me Barry.
Obama 2008: "Your name is Barack Obama. Embrace who
you are. Don't ever shrink from the truth, no matter how convenient it
would be to do so."
Obama 1969: Can you tell me what the future is like? Do black people and white people get along like Martin Luther King said we would?
Obama 2008: "We've all come a long way, Barack, but
some old attitudes persist. Still, enough has changed to make it
possible for people like us to run for president."
Obama 1969: Are you going to win?
Obama 2008: "I hope I do, for America's sake, Barack."
Obama 1969: What if you don't?
Obama 2008: "Then I still have the love of my
beautiful wife and two daughters. They're waiting for you, Barack. All
you have to do is work hard and believe in the future. Can you get out
of bed and face it with hope and perseverance?"
Yes I can, the young Barack says. Yes I can.
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Dear Common Dreams reader, It’s been nearly 30 years since I co-founded Common Dreams with my late wife, Lina Newhouser. We had the radical notion that journalism should serve the public good, not corporate profits. It was clear to us from the outset what it would take to build such a project. No paid advertisements. No corporate sponsors. No millionaire publisher telling us what to think or do. Many people said we wouldn't last a year, but we proved those doubters wrong. Together with a tremendous team of journalists and dedicated staff, we built an independent media outlet free from the constraints of profits and corporate control. Our mission has always been simple: To inform. To inspire. To ignite change for the common good. Building Common Dreams was not easy. Our survival was never guaranteed. When you take on the most powerful forces—Wall Street greed, fossil fuel industry destruction, Big Tech lobbyists, and uber-rich oligarchs who have spent billions upon billions rigging the economy and democracy in their favor—the only bulwark you have is supporters who believe in your work. But here’s the urgent message from me today. It's never been this bad out there. And it's never been this hard to keep us going. At the very moment Common Dreams is most needed, the threats we face are intensifying. We need your support now more than ever. We don't accept corporate advertising and never will. We don't have a paywall because we don't think people should be blocked from critical news based on their ability to pay. Everything we do is funded by the donations of readers like you. When everyone does the little they can afford, we are strong. But if that support retreats or dries up, so do we. Will you donate now to make sure Common Dreams not only survives but thrives? —Craig Brown, Co-founder |
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Tony Norman
Tony Norman is a Pittsburgh Post-Gazette columnist. He was once the Post-Gazette's pop music/pop culture critic and appeared as an expert on cultural issues on local radio talk shows and television programs. In 1996, he began writing an award-winning general interest column, which, he says, rejuvenated his enthusiasm for the kind of journalism that makes a difference.
Yesterday, I got an e-mail from Patricia Moran, a longtime reader
who articulated what millions of people were feeling the morning after
Barack Obama became the official presidential standard bearer of his
party:
"When I was 16," Pat's e-mail read, "I used to work
before school in a small restaurant where my stepmother worked. One
morning, early, two black people and their child came in and tried to
sit down and order breakfast.
"My stepmother refused to serve them. I begged her to make them
hamburgers to go -- and she did. I still remember the look on the man's
face as I brought the hamburgers out to his car. That was 62 years ago!
"Last night, I saw a black man nominated for president of the
United States. No matter who you want for president, what a historic
moment for our country this is! We need to stop for a moment and
realize how FAR we have FINALLY come, and feel a little pride this
morning for our country. I know I am very proud!"
I never drank from a segregated fountain, but I'm old enough to
remember what it was like to sit on a yellow school bus chased by white
teenagers who objected to black kids integrating a school in their neighborhood.
It was an era when people were more upfront about their prejudices.
The kids who pelted our bus with water balloons and eggs and spit at
our windows when the bus came to a stop sign always made a game of it.
And of course, Philly cops never took it seriously until the
neighborhood zip guns came out.
A year after the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert Kennedy were
assassinated, and five years after the March on Washington, I couldn't
imagine a time when anyone with black skin could ever become president.
Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I Have a Dream" message was already the
most memorable speech in the world, but it seemed like science fiction
to me. By 1969, race relations were as tense as they had ever been in
America.
After all, the country could barely handle Nichelle Nichols' Lt.
Uhura character on "Star Trek." When NBC finally canceled the only
series on TV that featured a black character with a funny African name,
I was already cynical.
While my 9-year-old self was brooding on the back of a school bus in
Philly, what was the 8-year-old Barack Obama doing? Could he have
possibly imagined a scenario in which he would be running for president
39 years later?
If by some trick of 24th-century Star Trek technology, the Barack
Obama of 2008 had materialized in the bedroom of a chubby introvert
then living in Jakarta with his mother and stepfather, what would the
boy -- also named Barack Obama -- have thought of such startling news
from the future?
Obama 2008: "Barack, get up. You have an amazing life ahead of you. You've slept in long enough."
Obama 1969: Whoa! How did you get in here without mom seeing you? Who are you?
Obama 2008: "Listen carefully, Barack. I'm who you
will become four decades from now. I'm Barack Obama, the Democratic
Party's nominee for president of the United States in 2008."
Obama 1969: You're me and you're from the future? That doesn't seem likely. If you're really me, how did I get so skinny?
Obama 2008: "Arugula and basketball. Plus more
ambition than you can imagine sitting in this dark room all day,
Barack. Did you hear me? I said I'm the Democratic nominee for
president."
Obama 1969: I heard you, but I figure you're crazy or something. Black people can't be president of the United States.
Obama 2008: "You haven't experienced the future,
but you know what's possible and what's not in 2008? You're more
talented than I remember, Barack."
Obama 1969: Barry. Call me Barry.
Obama 2008: "Your name is Barack Obama. Embrace who
you are. Don't ever shrink from the truth, no matter how convenient it
would be to do so."
Obama 1969: Can you tell me what the future is like? Do black people and white people get along like Martin Luther King said we would?
Obama 2008: "We've all come a long way, Barack, but
some old attitudes persist. Still, enough has changed to make it
possible for people like us to run for president."
Obama 1969: Are you going to win?
Obama 2008: "I hope I do, for America's sake, Barack."
Obama 1969: What if you don't?
Obama 2008: "Then I still have the love of my
beautiful wife and two daughters. They're waiting for you, Barack. All
you have to do is work hard and believe in the future. Can you get out
of bed and face it with hope and perseverance?"
Yes I can, the young Barack says. Yes I can.
Tony Norman
Tony Norman is a Pittsburgh Post-Gazette columnist. He was once the Post-Gazette's pop music/pop culture critic and appeared as an expert on cultural issues on local radio talk shows and television programs. In 1996, he began writing an award-winning general interest column, which, he says, rejuvenated his enthusiasm for the kind of journalism that makes a difference.
Yesterday, I got an e-mail from Patricia Moran, a longtime reader
who articulated what millions of people were feeling the morning after
Barack Obama became the official presidential standard bearer of his
party:
"When I was 16," Pat's e-mail read, "I used to work
before school in a small restaurant where my stepmother worked. One
morning, early, two black people and their child came in and tried to
sit down and order breakfast.
"My stepmother refused to serve them. I begged her to make them
hamburgers to go -- and she did. I still remember the look on the man's
face as I brought the hamburgers out to his car. That was 62 years ago!
"Last night, I saw a black man nominated for president of the
United States. No matter who you want for president, what a historic
moment for our country this is! We need to stop for a moment and
realize how FAR we have FINALLY come, and feel a little pride this
morning for our country. I know I am very proud!"
I never drank from a segregated fountain, but I'm old enough to
remember what it was like to sit on a yellow school bus chased by white
teenagers who objected to black kids integrating a school in their neighborhood.
It was an era when people were more upfront about their prejudices.
The kids who pelted our bus with water balloons and eggs and spit at
our windows when the bus came to a stop sign always made a game of it.
And of course, Philly cops never took it seriously until the
neighborhood zip guns came out.
A year after the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert Kennedy were
assassinated, and five years after the March on Washington, I couldn't
imagine a time when anyone with black skin could ever become president.
Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I Have a Dream" message was already the
most memorable speech in the world, but it seemed like science fiction
to me. By 1969, race relations were as tense as they had ever been in
America.
After all, the country could barely handle Nichelle Nichols' Lt.
Uhura character on "Star Trek." When NBC finally canceled the only
series on TV that featured a black character with a funny African name,
I was already cynical.
While my 9-year-old self was brooding on the back of a school bus in
Philly, what was the 8-year-old Barack Obama doing? Could he have
possibly imagined a scenario in which he would be running for president
39 years later?
If by some trick of 24th-century Star Trek technology, the Barack
Obama of 2008 had materialized in the bedroom of a chubby introvert
then living in Jakarta with his mother and stepfather, what would the
boy -- also named Barack Obama -- have thought of such startling news
from the future?
Obama 2008: "Barack, get up. You have an amazing life ahead of you. You've slept in long enough."
Obama 1969: Whoa! How did you get in here without mom seeing you? Who are you?
Obama 2008: "Listen carefully, Barack. I'm who you
will become four decades from now. I'm Barack Obama, the Democratic
Party's nominee for president of the United States in 2008."
Obama 1969: You're me and you're from the future? That doesn't seem likely. If you're really me, how did I get so skinny?
Obama 2008: "Arugula and basketball. Plus more
ambition than you can imagine sitting in this dark room all day,
Barack. Did you hear me? I said I'm the Democratic nominee for
president."
Obama 1969: I heard you, but I figure you're crazy or something. Black people can't be president of the United States.
Obama 2008: "You haven't experienced the future,
but you know what's possible and what's not in 2008? You're more
talented than I remember, Barack."
Obama 1969: Barry. Call me Barry.
Obama 2008: "Your name is Barack Obama. Embrace who
you are. Don't ever shrink from the truth, no matter how convenient it
would be to do so."
Obama 1969: Can you tell me what the future is like? Do black people and white people get along like Martin Luther King said we would?
Obama 2008: "We've all come a long way, Barack, but
some old attitudes persist. Still, enough has changed to make it
possible for people like us to run for president."
Obama 1969: Are you going to win?
Obama 2008: "I hope I do, for America's sake, Barack."
Obama 1969: What if you don't?
Obama 2008: "Then I still have the love of my
beautiful wife and two daughters. They're waiting for you, Barack. All
you have to do is work hard and believe in the future. Can you get out
of bed and face it with hope and perseverance?"
Yes I can, the young Barack says. Yes I can.
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