Chicago and Obama

Now that we are back in Chicago, I am reconnecting with the familiar and the unfamiliar. That's why I ride my bike with Leo and his buddy Jerry to Manny's Deli on some Saturdays, and to the Wishbone Restaurant for the "early bird special" on Wednesday mornings before Jerry goes to work. I can pedal to the health club to workout and swim and to the lakefront for some scenery. That's why I tested the"Chicago's Best Hot Wings" at a third Clark Street bar, which wasn't as good as the ones I tasted last week. It's why I'll go to Truman Community college to reconnect with a friend and hopefully hear about a part time teaching job for next fall, and to Lincoln Park Zoo to see about volunteering there again.
In the four years we've been gone from Chicago there have been lots of changes. Besides more cars in the street and the apparent gentrification of more neighborhoods, another change has been the election to the U.S. Senate by a Illinois State legislator, Barak Obama. Ever since I heard his speech in 2004 at the Democratic National Convention, I've been intrigued by this politician. There was something different in his vernacular. He used words like "hope" and "unity" and "sharing." These sixties-styled words have been out of favor, but he wasn't afraid to use them.
I found his first book, "Dreams from My Father" in a used book store,brought it home and finished it in three days. I realized that despite the outcome of his ambition to run for president, he's going to be part of America's future, part of the change that has to take place in order for this country to return to its meaningful place in the world.
When I received an email about an Obama Kickoff Event, I didn't hesitate to look for a gathering near our apartment on the north side. Who was supporting this man who had decided to run for President? It was time for me to do some fact finding.
The party was given by two women in their early twenties, both just out of college. Self confident and obviously from wealthy parents, they lived in a two bedroom apartment in a high rise way too expensive for most first-year teachers. They were savy though about political issues. The parents who lived in a north shore suburb provided the food and drink. A sister had flown in just for the event from her pricey east coast university. Many people knew each other.
I had grease on my hands from locking up my bike. After I came back to the living room from washing up I got to meet a few more new people . Everyone was white, employed in professional jobs (except for two young guys who had just come from an all night party), and well traveled. Instead of talk about politics, I listened to a conversation about someone's trip to Australia and another couple's recent honeymoon in South Africa.
This was the grassroots? It felt more like I was at a charity function where rich people offer shrimp and lobster newburg to prospective donors for a "Save the Whale" campaign. But no one asked for a donation. I was prepared to give and had brought a blank check just in case.
After Obama concluded his live internet talk to a group in Iowa, I talked to a Spanish American woman who had walked in late bringing her Spanish-speaking mother. She expressed the same enthusiasm for the man that I'd felt the first time I heard him. She also felt the same urgency to make a change, to turn our society away from the greed and meanness that had overtaken it. At last, someone I could connect with.
As I thanked my hostess I paused to talk with the campaign worker who was there and happened to also be a schoolmate of the young teacher. She had previously worked in D.C. for the senator. She was young, passionate, and full of energy. She gushed on about her boss and his wife, Michelle. I found myself taking her email address and promising to look into volunteering in her office. I liked her youthful exhuberance. Maybe I should let caution and patience go and just jump in feet first.