Nakiyah Jordan
“Our first woman Vice President is Black and South Asian.”
My thoughts on America and its highest offices are evolving. I am met with much internal conflict, but I can’t stop thinking about that first sentence. I was in fourth grade when former President Barack Obama was first elected. As a ten year old with love for America forced down my throat, I did not have these complex thoughts about my country. I saw a Black man in the highest office. I won’t ever forget that night. My grandmother’s cheer echoed in my ear this past Saturday. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” The Sunday following the 2008 election, my great-grandfather spoke about his son. Uncle Lonnie believed that we would see a Black president. He knew it. He didn’t live to see it. My great-grandparents didn’t get to see last week. And so now, even with my mixed emotions on our alleged democracy, I am overwhelmed with joy and pride. We did it. Every little girl sitting between her grandmother’s legs with a hot comb behind her ear knows it’s possible.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!”
