November 7, 2008--The Ladies of Forest Trace Are Happy
“So?” my mother said when I answered the phone.
“So?” I said back to her, though I suspected I knew why she was calling. It was Wednesday morning, the day after Election Day and Florida had delivered its 27 Electoral Votes for Barack Obama.
“So,” she persisted, “what do you think?” I could hear the pride in her voice. I knew that she had been an Obama supporter for almost two years while almost all the other ladies of Forest Trace had been for Hillary, and after she lost many had thought about voting for John McCain. And I knew how hard she had worked to convince them to reconsider and how she had exhausted herself for weeks, helping dozens of the girls to fill out and send in their absentee ballots. Even those she suspected who were still voting for McCain. No small feat for a 100 year-old women who had had a mild stroke not too long ago.
“I think you did a great job,” I finally said.
“That’s not what I meant,” she shot back at me.
“You mean when you said So?”
“Yes, what I was asking you. About what you thought.”
“You meant how good it was that Florida became a Blue State.”
“No, not that.” This surprised me because I had all along come to feel that she and many of the other women were working hard to atone, one had even used that word for what Florida did, what they did, in 2000 and then again in 2004. That they had accepted personal responsibility for George Bush’s election and reelection.
“Haven’t you been listening to Obama?” she pressed.
“Of course. Remember I too have been a supporter of his for a long time.”
“Then you would have heard him talk about how there are no Red States and no Blue States, just the United States.”
“And so you’re saying that it isn’t important to you that Florida, thanks in part to you, is now a Blue State?”
“You’re not listening to me and this is getting me aggravated. By missing the point you’re spoiling my good mood.”
That was the last thing I wanted to do and so I quickly said, “I do understand that and how important it is for our new president to say these kinds of things to us so that maybe, just maybe we can begin to get beyond the things that have for so long divided us."
“What you should mean is how we have been manipulated into seeing ourselves as a divided people. How did she put it? That dreadful woman.” I knew of course who she was referring to, “How there are real Americans and everyone else. With us of course being among the ‘everyone else.’”
“That, mom, could be the most important result of this election, how . . .”
“How,” she completed my thought, “we may be beginning to overcome those things that have turned groups against each other. Did you see that even Spanish people voted for Obama? I heard Wolf say that on CNN. When they had all along been saying that blacks and Spanish wouldn’t vote for each other. Even the Cubans here voted for him.”
“Younger Cuban Americans,” I corrected her.
“Now you see what I was asking you about.” Her So? “How it’s about your generation.” I was pleased to be thought of as in any way part of the younger generation—she after all is more than 100 and that makes me . . .
“It’s about the future. We’ve been talking about this. You and I. And how I finally got the girls to think about it this way. It’s not about them, I kept telling them, and their healthcare and medications—as important as these are—but about their children and grandchildren. Their lives.”
Indeed, we had been talking about that for months. “And now all the ladies want to have one of my Obama buttons. But I won’t give them any because they are going to be worth a lot of money one day and I want you and your brother and your families to have them.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her that there were literally millions in circulation, though to have the one she intrepidly wore when few where she lived were for Obama was of incalculable value to me.
“But this is not all that I mean when I asked you what you thought.” I had run out of guesses about what she was trying to get me to understand.
“You know how many of the girls, poor things, have aides?” From my visits I had seen through the years how more and more of the women were depending on aides to help them shower and dress and help with medications. “And you have seen of course where most of them are from.” It was casually obvious that almost all were Afro-Caribbean and Afro-West Indian. “Well, when I came down this morning, after the election, you know how they congregate on the benches by the elevator? Waiting there while their ladies have breakfast in the dining room?”
“Yes, I’ve seen them.”
“When the elevator door opened this morning, when I went down for my breakfast, there were at least a dozen aides there; and when they saw me they all got up off the benches, looked right at me, and broke into applause. All of them were smiling and also crying.”
“That’s wonderful, mom. You deserved that. I wish I could have been there with you.”
“Well, you should have been. Didn’t you tell me you were going to come down to Florida, rent a van, and take people to the polls?” Indeed I had. “You could have stayed here with me. I have an extra bedroom.”
Things had come up and I couldn’t manage to get there though I still was feeling guilty that I hadn’t tried harder. Thus to change the subject I asked, “Tell me more about what happened. With the aides.”
“I was getting to that. I told you how they were applauding. But did I tell you what they said?”
“No, ma, what?”
“’Thank you, Thank you,’ they said. ‘For what?’ I asked them. ‘For electing him,’ they said. ‘I didn’t elect him,’ I told them. Tears were coming down all of their faces. ‘You did, you did,’ they insisted. What could I say? All I could do was hug each one of them. I must admit by then I was as crying too as I had been doing all night. I didn’t sleep one wink.
“’But,’ I said one more time, ‘It’s not what I did, but what all of America did.’ I didn’t ask them if they had voted. I suspected that few if any of them were citizens. ‘That’s what we mean,’ they said, ‘that you and other Americans did this for us too and all the rest of the world.’”
“That’s wonderful, mom. But they were also thanking you because they knew what you yourself did. They knew about all your hard work.”
“I did work hard, that’s true, and as I said it was for the future. There’s as well as yours. The things they do to take such good care of us. We owe them this too. And everyone else in the world.”
Now I understood.
“So?” I said back to her, though I suspected I knew why she was calling. It was Wednesday morning, the day after Election Day and Florida had delivered its 27 Electoral Votes for Barack Obama.
“So,” she persisted, “what do you think?” I could hear the pride in her voice. I knew that she had been an Obama supporter for almost two years while almost all the other ladies of Forest Trace had been for Hillary, and after she lost many had thought about voting for John McCain. And I knew how hard she had worked to convince them to reconsider and how she had exhausted herself for weeks, helping dozens of the girls to fill out and send in their absentee ballots. Even those she suspected who were still voting for McCain. No small feat for a 100 year-old women who had had a mild stroke not too long ago.
“I think you did a great job,” I finally said.
“That’s not what I meant,” she shot back at me.
“You mean when you said So?”
“Yes, what I was asking you. About what you thought.”
“You meant how good it was that Florida became a Blue State.”
“No, not that.” This surprised me because I had all along come to feel that she and many of the other women were working hard to atone, one had even used that word for what Florida did, what they did, in 2000 and then again in 2004. That they had accepted personal responsibility for George Bush’s election and reelection.
“Haven’t you been listening to Obama?” she pressed.
“Of course. Remember I too have been a supporter of his for a long time.”
“Then you would have heard him talk about how there are no Red States and no Blue States, just the United States.”
“And so you’re saying that it isn’t important to you that Florida, thanks in part to you, is now a Blue State?”
“You’re not listening to me and this is getting me aggravated. By missing the point you’re spoiling my good mood.”
That was the last thing I wanted to do and so I quickly said, “I do understand that and how important it is for our new president to say these kinds of things to us so that maybe, just maybe we can begin to get beyond the things that have for so long divided us."
“What you should mean is how we have been manipulated into seeing ourselves as a divided people. How did she put it? That dreadful woman.” I knew of course who she was referring to, “How there are real Americans and everyone else. With us of course being among the ‘everyone else.’”
“That, mom, could be the most important result of this election, how . . .”
“How,” she completed my thought, “we may be beginning to overcome those things that have turned groups against each other. Did you see that even Spanish people voted for Obama? I heard Wolf say that on CNN. When they had all along been saying that blacks and Spanish wouldn’t vote for each other. Even the Cubans here voted for him.”
“Younger Cuban Americans,” I corrected her.
“Now you see what I was asking you about.” Her So? “How it’s about your generation.” I was pleased to be thought of as in any way part of the younger generation—she after all is more than 100 and that makes me . . .
“It’s about the future. We’ve been talking about this. You and I. And how I finally got the girls to think about it this way. It’s not about them, I kept telling them, and their healthcare and medications—as important as these are—but about their children and grandchildren. Their lives.”
Indeed, we had been talking about that for months. “And now all the ladies want to have one of my Obama buttons. But I won’t give them any because they are going to be worth a lot of money one day and I want you and your brother and your families to have them.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her that there were literally millions in circulation, though to have the one she intrepidly wore when few where she lived were for Obama was of incalculable value to me.
“But this is not all that I mean when I asked you what you thought.” I had run out of guesses about what she was trying to get me to understand.
“You know how many of the girls, poor things, have aides?” From my visits I had seen through the years how more and more of the women were depending on aides to help them shower and dress and help with medications. “And you have seen of course where most of them are from.” It was casually obvious that almost all were Afro-Caribbean and Afro-West Indian. “Well, when I came down this morning, after the election, you know how they congregate on the benches by the elevator? Waiting there while their ladies have breakfast in the dining room?”
“Yes, I’ve seen them.”
“When the elevator door opened this morning, when I went down for my breakfast, there were at least a dozen aides there; and when they saw me they all got up off the benches, looked right at me, and broke into applause. All of them were smiling and also crying.”
“That’s wonderful, mom. You deserved that. I wish I could have been there with you.”
“Well, you should have been. Didn’t you tell me you were going to come down to Florida, rent a van, and take people to the polls?” Indeed I had. “You could have stayed here with me. I have an extra bedroom.”
Things had come up and I couldn’t manage to get there though I still was feeling guilty that I hadn’t tried harder. Thus to change the subject I asked, “Tell me more about what happened. With the aides.”
“I was getting to that. I told you how they were applauding. But did I tell you what they said?”
“No, ma, what?”
“’Thank you, Thank you,’ they said. ‘For what?’ I asked them. ‘For electing him,’ they said. ‘I didn’t elect him,’ I told them. Tears were coming down all of their faces. ‘You did, you did,’ they insisted. What could I say? All I could do was hug each one of them. I must admit by then I was as crying too as I had been doing all night. I didn’t sleep one wink.
“’But,’ I said one more time, ‘It’s not what I did, but what all of America did.’ I didn’t ask them if they had voted. I suspected that few if any of them were citizens. ‘That’s what we mean,’ they said, ‘that you and other Americans did this for us too and all the rest of the world.’”
“That’s wonderful, mom. But they were also thanking you because they knew what you yourself did. They knew about all your hard work.”
“I did work hard, that’s true, and as I said it was for the future. There’s as well as yours. The things they do to take such good care of us. We owe them this too. And everyone else in the world.”
Now I understood.
posted by Steven Zwerling at
11:36 AM
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