There would be riots in the streets if Barack Obama lost, they said. Or if he won. Either way, something scary and un-American and urban was supposed to happen, right?
Here’s what did happen in the District of Columbia last night: spontaneous joy. I watched the results come in at a friend’s house off U Street. At 11 p.m., as every network called the election, neighbors flooded out onto the sidewalks, laughing and shouting. Cars honked their horns in recognition. One guy stood on his stoop playing a tuba. We drifted down to U Street, the multicultural heart of D.C. nightlife. Thousands of pedestrians had peacefully taken over the streets. Black people and white people and brown people, immigrants and native-born Americans — everyone was hugging, screaming, and jumping up and down. Outside an Ethiopian restaurant, a jubilant crowd danced to African music. Couples clung to each other, grinning foolishly.
That’s when it occurred to me. Most progressives who came of age after the 1960s and 70s spent their political lives yearning for a movement as transformative as civil rights, or second wave feminism, or the anti-Vietnam War movement. We were nostalgic for massive protests and singing in the streets, sit-ins and teach-ins. But what happened in D.C. and cities across the country last night was just as inspiring, yet completely different. It was not a protest, but a celebration; not didactic, but unifying. I’m not sure America has had a night like last night since V-J day, when Alfred Eisenstaedt snapped his famous photograph of the sailor boy and civilian girl kissing in Times Square. I’m no professional photographer, and my camera is cheap. But here’s what last night looked like in Northwest D.C.
The corner of 14th and U Streets NW.
College students sing the national anthem outside the White House, and chant, “USA! USA!”
—Dana Goldstein
