IS THIS my country again? Do I dare to hope?
As I walked up the hill to vote on a glorious New England fall morning, I saw a sign for the Healey-Hillman ticket. The house was also flying an American flag. I was struck by the realization that for the past six years, I have felt that my citizenship in this country had been usurped. No flag for me. Flying it meant support of George Bush, the war in Iraq, and a hate-mongering, demeaning, and demoralizing government that is supposed to be representing me around the world.
More than a year ago, I understood that I could no longer stomach what was happening. I called Deval Patrick headquarters, and for the first time in my 60 years I got active in politics. The more I watched, talked to, and listened to Patrick, the
more convinced I became that he was truly different. And I began to feel hope --
in my body, in the air.
On election night at the Hynes Veterans Memorial Convention Center, I celebrated with thousands of others. After more than 40 years in this state, I was part of a group that was truly integrated, black and white in equal numbers singing, joyful, brought together by a man whose life is a glowing example to all of us. We were given small flags , and I smiled. It was my flag and I waved it gratefully.
And an encouraging word in a Globe editorial:
"Belated as it is, Rumsfeld's departure does have encouraging aspects . Above all, it suggests that the most imperial presidency of modern times can still be held accountable by the voters."