There's something I do that I basically call "nightswimming." When I have too many complex thoughts or if I am emotionally blocked, I often find clarity by just walking the streets alone at night. I also do this when I am introduced to a new city or like this weekend during a major event. No pictures, no video, just me and my thoughts. It's amazing what you see in the dark when you aren't being shuttled down the street in a car, taxi or limo.
I strolled for an hour around 3 a.m. I started at Thomas Circle and 14th Street and walked all back to the house 13th and U Street.
It was about 20 degrees and the residential neighborhood was nestled snugly among all of the ongoing inaugural festivities. However, the only thing I could hear were the sounds of my own footsteps on the frosty pavement and the breeze whistling through the trees.
The thought of America's first black president became very real to me in the sense that this changes EVERYTHING. The world has forever changed. But what happens now?
10 minutes into my walk I noticed I was passing by the The Mary McLeod Bethune Council House: African American Women Unite for Change.
Like me, she was born in South Carolina and was the descendant of slaves. Without going through her entire history, Mary founded what is know today as Bethune-Cookman University in Florida. I couldn't help but feel a since of pride and responsiblity. It seemed as if my life had taken a similar path as Mary's. In the neighborhood surrounding the house is a diverse mix of residents who seemed to be living in harmony even though the front page of newspapers still showed images of a world plunging into a deep decline.
I felt a sense of responsibility, knowing there are things I should be doing to pull my friends, family and country out of this slump.
Before going home, I walked past the Chili Bowl where there lines of people including women in mink coats and ball gowns quietly shivering in the cold as the overnight crew frantically completed never-ending orders of hot dogs and sandwiches. Across the street families who drove in from Indiana, Illinois, Georgia, New Jersey, Connecticut and Alabama were lining up to get photos taken with a huge poster print of the first family.
I entered the house knowing that when the sun came up in two hours it would be MLK day and the masses would continue to arrive to witness history on Tuesday.
It started snowing as I closed the door.
