There's a steady drizzle coming down today and flood warnings have been issued around the area. Despite the gloom, I continue to maneuver in a bright, happy state of glee following Tuesday's election.
As cliche as it sounds, Obama's victory was never a doubt in my mind. I couldn't stop grinning the entire night after the contest was called. It wasn't until the next morning, however, standing in our kitchen preparing a snack for our young son, that I shed quiet tears of joy.
My father was black, my mother white. I grew up in a small Montana town where you couldn't escape the weight that race can place on people. It wasn't constant, but the few instances where racism slapped me in the face left emotional scars that really never heal.
The color of a person's skin is a visual reminder of our differences, and unfortunately one that too many use as an excuse to remain ignorant. I worry how through the years racism will treat my son. I can hold him close for only so long before he, too, will experience the unfair burden of color.
Obama's win gives me hope that we have finally turned a page in our country's tattered story. This does not mean the road ahead will be easy, but for me the future now holds so much more promise and potential.