Yesterday evening, I sat on the bottom bunk of my 15 year old nephew's bunk beds, filled up with tears. Completely unfocused on the discomfort that the old flattened out mattress was causing me.
My step mother stood leaning on the bunk bed behind me. Unconcerned with her bad knee.
My nephew laid across the top bunk bed a flat pillow balled up underneath his head.
The TV was on and blasting.
In the other room my brother in law sat on the edge of the bed, his arms crossed he was focused.
In the Livingroom the children (about 6 of them ranging in age from 4 to 13) sat legs crossed on the floor half way paying attention the TV.
My big sis, and her two friends sat on the beige leather couch, sharing their opinions and discussing topics they've never dared to care about. My sisters dad sat in his wheelchair near the door (in brand new grey Jordan's) crying. Unable to control his emothions since his stroke 3 years ago.
We all sat. FINALLY tooned in. FINALLY paying attention. FINALLY caring. FINALLY intrested.
Last night marked what I will account as one of the most important momments of our life time; an African American man accepting nomination for the presidency of the United States.