Amel Larrieux

…. and 20,000 other dedicated, excited, hopeful and eager folks, on the day that really put west philly on the map. 

It was Saturday, October 11, my mother's birthday, and we had piled the kids in the car by 8:30am so that we could make the rally at Vernon Park, in Germantown, my old neighborhood, by 10:30am. My mother had been asked how she'd like to spend her birthday, and she had said, " I'd like to go see the Quilts of Gee's Bend exhibition at the art museum, an African American art exhibit in chestnut hill, but most of all, I'd like to be with my family at the rally for Barack Obama". I knew my mom had been campaigning for him through her local chapter-knocking on doors and making calls- but this was altogether different. A sixty-six year young woman, with the desire to stand for hours to rally in the name of someone that wouldn't be there-in the same fashion she had during the civil rights era- seemed ambitious, at the least. I worried about her back; I bemoaned the possibility of my girls getting antsy and annoying. "But honey, he WILL be there", said my mother to the woman/child who- though watching countless hours of cnn/msnbc/bbc and internet stuff because we basically just leave the tv on one of these channels all day so as NOT to miss anything about our man- had somehow missed the report highlighting the Obamas appearance schedule. "WHAT?!" "Oh, we're definitely going. And if we miss the first one, we'll drive to the second one!" By the time we arrived in philly, we decided there might be a bigger crowd than we anticipated in little ole' Germantown, so we transferred our luggage from the car to her house, and went happily on our way to west philly. I do not believe anyone in my family unit had even remotely anticipated the numbers in which people were to show to this event, and judging by the rest of the people that arrived with and after us, neither did many others. To make a long story short, it was the standing in a line that took three hours to snake around a 4 or so block radius, with the four people I love most in this world- and thousands of other like-minded, friendly Obama supporters-that would shape this experience as sharply as it did, as it was to finally get around that corner and push our way up behind enough people that the distance between us and him was so great that we could only hear his voice through a loud speaker. We tried in vain to catch a glimpse of our beautiful, next "first family": I put my youngest on my shoulders; laru put me on his shoulders. Nothing we tried could bridge the gap between getting to west philly at the crack of dawn and getting there when the email said to come. Laru, who otherwise DESPISES crowds, and will opt out of any and all events that include even a small possibility of a lot of people packed in closely together, suddenly began making a path for his family through the thongs of people, saying as he gently pressed through, "We drove from new york. We gotta see him". And people let us through. When it became apparent we could go no further unless he plain picked up folks and placed them behind us, he elevated his 6' 4' frame onto his tippy toes, and held his phone up as high as his arm could reach (we forgot to charge the camera.) he is the only one in our group to catch a glimpse of the man, and he says that obama was so far away, he looked like an action figure in brooks brothers. He tried to capture his presence on film, but it just couldn't go down. After peeping his height advantage, people with cameras began asking laru to snap some shots for them, to which he obliged, thanks to his good nature. The crowd participation was what kept us going when we could no longer hear Obama's voice over the din of his supporter's voices. Chants of O-ba-ma and thunderous clapping and whooping would break out after he said something brilliant, most of which we could not decipher, and we'd enthusiastically join in, as this was the best way to connect with our hero and the significance of the day. And then, it was over, and we filed out, down those narrow, row house-lined streets with its residents dotting their porches, saying things like, " don't forget to vote, now", while we made our way to a car parked in place irrelevant enough to the day's events that we couldn't find it for a good half hour. We were endeared towards everyone we met that day, with all of philly in the know about this historical day. I was a complete bum, opting to wear a "young"-as laru would say- t-shirt and not worrying about the ensuing bad hair day on the near horizon, because I just wanted to get there on time! This being said, I can now apologize to the two people who recognized me and took photographs of me looking, shall we say, unraveled. I shoulda listened to laru and thrown on a hat☺ People were not playing when it came to displaying their support for the obamas with their various t-shirt/hat/button/sticker attire combos. Very creative! We wore our funky, unique obama pins proudly, and getting them was as entertaining a part of the day as anything else, with so many individual vendors using humorous ploys to get us to purchase the even more humorous and beautiful buttons. We ended up with multiples of the ones we loved most- a round "Marley" one with rasta colors splashed over obama's face and a square, mini duplicate of michelle and barack's ebony cover. I missed out on the BUCK FUSH button and the shirt depicting obama in mid air, dunkin' on mccain was truly an original. Still, the afterglow lingers; it's almost as compelling as the actual experience. The last time I felt something like this was at the no nukes march of the early 80's, when I was about 8, and we all dressed in white and I marched my spindly, little legs all the way to central park from way downtown, with 10,000 other peace seekers. My girls benefited from this day to boot, which was at the top of my wish list, and though there was one, tinsy, weensy window of tetchy sentiment over the uncommonly hot sun pounding down upon their faces, they were jovial, composed and focused on the reason we came there in the first place: to support, shout for and see this magnificent human being in which all of us have become so emotionally invested. Hours after the march, following a truly appreciated meal at whole foods, as we drove towards the museum, a lone, middle aged woman strode determinedly down the street, fist passionately pumping in air, an invigorated smile upon her bronze face. That image could not sum up the day any better.

On a side note, sky has been peeping all of obamas speeches and appearances on the internet, and her reactions are turning me into mush. She'll sit there with her headphones on, and suddenly break into this contagious smile, holding her cheeks or hugging herself. I had to comment, and told her that all that adorableness was killing me and I had to know what had impacted her. She said that obama was just so cool, and she particularly loved how he spoke of his wife and smiled in her direction during speeches, or gave her a hug and kiss and really seemed so in love with her when he walked over to her afterwards. She is also the second person to notice that sasha and malia obama act EXACTLY like she and her little sister, to the point that it's scary! This, she said, was best displayed at his acceptance speech, at the point where he speaks to michelle. If you have seen this or plan to watch it, it is though I am watching my own children. Sanji is always joking around and kind of dancing or fidgeting, doing that, hey-you-guys-look kind of nudging thing to whomever is in arms reach, and sky is always upright and composed, a dreamy yet knowing look in her eye, with one of those oh-my-god- i-know-already-get-off-me smiles. She continued to squeal at how cute sasha is and how she reminds her of her own kid sister. I am puree' in her hands.






About that west coast warmth…..

….and I really mean this, with every cell in my body. How could I have known that a week of what was supposed to be a grueling schedule of vocal exertion, jet lag induced sleeplessness and fatigue and difficulty figuring out what to eat with such a specific diet would turn out so grand? The two sets per night served as my daily double of therapy. The time difference, fatigue and food issues didn't make a difference cuz your energy literally fed me, emotionally and physically, and I found my multiple winds between and after each set. Plus, my room had a kitchenette and I found a trader joe's, so I cooked for laru and I as if we were at home. Getting back to you, though: I cannot remember being more surprised than I was during your standing ovations and encores. I mean, really! Anyone with a self-esteem issue would most definitely have been cured of it had they been in my shoes. Oh, wait: I'm speaking of myself. I'm just about cured, then! You sang good and loud; you requested songs that were possible to perform, even if only an excerpt was possible, and then-to top it all off - like really amazing cream cheese icing, or dutch chocolate or (gasp) butter cream- you went and wrote the nicest recaps and thank you's and posted videos on you tube that don't make me wanna run for the hills! You guys! We haven't made back-to-back trips to the west coast in, ever, I think! seattle has to be one of the prettiest and most environmentally conscious cities in america, and I've never been to san diego- we're traveling there via train from

los angeles(woohoo!)- So I am totally looking forward to this stretch of gigs. 



When you have time, please check out www.HaitiChildren.com Our little family has contributed to them at Christmas time, giving gifts to others instead of ourselves. Again, any of you that want to suggest links of charitable organizations, give em' up! Even in this scary-ass economic climate, we have more than most of the so-called "third world" could ever dream of having. 


I saw miracle at st anna and feel, the reason people gave this flick-SPIKE'S flick- and movies similar to it, less than stellar reviews is because that stories like these make people feel uncomfortable, especially us americans with our history and present day remnants of institutionalized racism. Spike Lee is consistently criticized for his revealing and realistic studies into race, and the film industry has purposely overlooked him when it comes to awards or accolades, offering condescending comments in their place, time and time again. This is a film to see and tell your friends about.




CALLING ALL PEOPLE WHO HAVE NEVER VOTED, THINK THEIR VOTE DOESN'T MATTER, ARE FEELING TOO TIRED TO GO REGISTER AND VOTE, DO NOT TRUST THE PROCESS…THIS TIME IT MATTERS! IF THERE IS ONE TIME IN YOUR LIFE YOU SHOULD VOTE, IT IS NOW. WE ARE NOT ELECTING THESE CANDIDATES TO HANG OUT WITH US AT A BBQ, SO, HOW THEY DRESS, LAUGH, AND SEEM "JUST LIKE US" IS NOT THE ISSUE. IT'S WHTAT THEIR POLICIES ARE HOW THEY PLAN TO RUN THIS COUNTRY!!!!!AND THIS IS IMPORTANT FOR ALL AMERICANS- BLACK, WHITE AND OTHER: IF YOU REALLY STAND FOR CHANGE, IF YOU TRULY ARE AGAINST THE SINS OF THE FOREFATHERS OF THIS COUNTRY, THE MANY DECADES OF INEQUALITY TO FOLLOW AND OUR PRESENT DAY GOVERNMENT'S DECEPTION, YOU WILL VOTE. 

Thank you, from the very depths of my heart-
mel

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