I personally was in the trenches in Racine, Wisconsin on November 2, driving people to the polls and doing my part to turn out the vote.
What a day! I met volunteers from all over the United States, and representatives from nearly fifty progressive organizations. There were good people from California, New Jersey, classy Southern Belles from Texas, Washington D.C., Iowa and my own Illinois, all gathered together at Union Hall to defeat George W. Bush. These people had taken time away from their jobs, their families and their lives in order to ensure that decency would return again to the United States. Their passion for democracy and love for this nation was beautiful and inspiring. I wish you could have all been there to see it.
Throughout that day, we met and talked with the everyday people of this working class town. The faces of Racine were young and old, black, white and every shade of brown. They were Christian, Muslim, Hindi, Jewish and just about every faith of God. They were the faces of my America. And although the people of Racine were the essence of diversity, on every face I saw the same determination. These good folks were making a point of voting, many of them for the first time in years. Nothing was going to stand in their way. No one was going to decide anything without their voice being heard.
It was an amazing experience. Throughout the day, turnout was tremendous and spirits were high. As darkness fell, we dared to hope. The exit polls hinted that John Kerry was walking away with the election. At 8:30 pm, I left my fellow patriots at the Union hall and headed home to my wife and family, wrapped in warm feelings of solidarity, good will and the knowledge that I had done all I could.
But as I drove south on Interstate 94, the word from Public Radio began to sound dark. Our efforts in Wisconsin were paying off as Kerry locked up the Badger State, but far too many states were glowing crimson. By the time I went to bed that night, my hope was on life support.
Driving my wife to her job downtown the next day, there was a pall hanging over Chicago. I had not seen such mass dejection since that awful morning-after of September 12, 2001. People were in disbelief. Stopped in traffic, I saw actual tears on the faces of some of my fellow motorists. I’m not ashamed to admit I shed a few of my own. I think the sun was shining that day, but I don’t remember my beautiful city ever looking so drab and colorless.
That was two weeks ago already. Life goes on.
Where do we go from here? That is the question we’ve all been struggling with. We fought our hearts out, but we lost. Do we give in? Do we emigrate and leave forever the dream of America, now and forever to be unrealized? Do we walk away from that which has given us pride and sustenance over the course of our lives, a land that has inspired us with its natural beauty and its once noble intent? Do we walk away from our families and friends and the soil that holds the very blood and bones of our ancestors, the soil for which far too many gave their lives to bequeath to us? Do we just quit?
Or do we continue to fight?
The symbol for the United States is an eagle, not a lemming. Too much is at stake to turn aside now. As Martin Luther King once said, “the ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.”
I’m choosing to fight. I’m fighting for everything I hold dear. I’m fighting for democracy. I’m fighting for liberty for all. I’m fighting for the unrealized dreams of our forefathers, and the nobler aspect of the American spirit. And I know I am not alone. I have brothers and sisters in every community in this country, brothers and sisters who are the BEST our nation offers, and they stand beside me.
Ignorance, intolerance, bigotry, hatred and fear may have carried this one election, this one battle, but the war for the American soul has just begun. So to quote our walking malapropism of a president, I say to him and his supporters: ‘Bring it on’!
Mal!

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