I'm proud

I can hardly remember a time where the phrase "proud to be an American" wasn't commonplace. Since 2001, it has rung so loudly over the radio and in writing and in speeches that it started losing me. I don't know when I'd heard it too many times to feel the joy, to be moved to tear by the words. It left me even more hollow because I started searching for the meaning and couldn't remember why it once made me shiver with the truth.

But today I've been reminded why I love my country.

It's not that my party representative won. I was not an Obama supporter from the start, and I made it clear to the friends and acquaintances who asked. Don't get me wrong: I'm ecstatic that Obama won and am feeling a million different wonderful things at once while I listen to his acceptance speech.

The real joy I feel is from the knowledge that my peers did our generation justice today. My elders, too, made our forefathers proud. I have been sick and tired of years of political apathy and misery, and to know that my fellow countrymen exercised their right to choose our future gives me more hope in the future than any single candidate could. I am proud to know that I can hold my head high to say that I voted, and I am honored to stand with the others who made their choices at the polls. Whether or not our choices on those ballots were successful, we made a tangible difference by casting our votes. For the first time I feel like the American forefathers would be proud of us for honoring the blood shed to found our country, the tears cried while it grew, and the wonderful documents that guarantee us our freedoms. I am so proud to be American this morning, and I hope this feeling lasts for a long time.