What a day!

I need to write this while it’s all fresh. What a day! This morning I woke up and turned on the TV, to see John McCain giving his speech conceding defeat on the US presidentlal election. I must say, what a gracious speech it was. If nothing else, McCain is a good loser.

Then about 20 minutes later, I watched Barack Obama’s victory speech. By that stage I was in an airport departure lounge, and there were quite a few of us gathered around the TV. I don’t think of myself as particularly sentimental, but I couldn’t stop a few tears from rolling down my cheeks. His speech was so fitting, the occasion so momentous, I couldn’t help but be moved.

The faces of the people in the crowd in Chicago reflected not just happiness but idealism, and hope. Goodness knows we need some ideals in today’s world, we need some heroes. Obama is now the focus of that need. Even as I savoured the moment, a part of my mind was already sceptical. Obama now carries the ideals and hopes not only of Americans but of many around the world. Will he live up to the heavy expectations that have been placed on him?

Please, please let us not be disappointed, as we so often are by our leaders. I recall, for instance, the scenes of jubilation in Kenya when Mwai Kibaki was elected president. Four years later, that jubilation had turned to bitter cynicism. In South Africa the hopes placed on the ANC have in many cases also faded all too soon. Let’s not have that again.

In a sense it doesn’t really matter. This moment, this day, will have a lasting positive impact, no matter what follows. As an American friend of mine has put it — African American men today see themselves re-imagined. The proliferation of negative images of black men in America, as prisoners, as drug dealers and so on, now have an extremely powerful counter-image. In a sense, the image of Africa, too, is changed. What impact is this having on youngsters, who now can imagine a world of possibilities they never before thought possible? Obama has broken the glass  ceiling for black Americans in the most powerful way.

Today, the USA, too, is being powerfully re-imagined by the rest of the world. Suddenly, the nation associated with George Bush, with war, with aggression and mindless conservatism, has transformed itself in this one act. Will our jubilation be justified, or will the strictures of office, the demands of the military-industrial complex force Obama into the mould of so many predecessors. Let us hope and pray not.

But again, I am hopeful, because this is not about one man. Obama’s campaign succeeded because it transformed the nature of electoral politics in America. It relied on an extensive network of grassroots-based organisations and individuals. It build on a model of citizen involvement and activism. The youth have been energised and re-engaged in politics by this election.

As Obama’s speech indicated, this is just the beginning. There are huge crises to tackle — a faltering global economy, two wars that the US is involved in, new forms of international instability. It will not be easy by any means. Obama can’t do it on his own. Individuals naturally have weaknesses and failings, but one of the huge strengths of the president-elect is his strength as an organiser, his realisation that he needs a strong team. In this case there is  a network, a movement that’s been established. In this sense, change has already happened.

A career up in smoke

There was an article in the newspaper recently headlined, “Smoking Could Make You Friends.” I noticed it because I’d been thinking the very same thing, just a few days earlier.

The article was about US presidential candidate, Barak Obama. The reporter said that Obama had been quite a heavy smoker, but gave it up at the insistence of his wife, just at the start of his campaign. The author was saying that he should take up the habit again, as it would help him connect with white blue collar voters — a crucial constituency, that he is struggling to win over. Apparently, while smoking has been in rapid decline in the US, it’s still widespread among blue collar folk.

Most of my life I’ve been glad I’ve never been a smoker. Somehow, it just never caught on with me. The first time I tried a cigarette, I hated it, and couldn’t understand how anyone would want to do that again. Later on, when I went out partying I sometimes had the odd puff to get that dizzy feeling, but it always made be feel nauseous too and I always regretted it. And I hated smokers, because the smoky bars and clubs meant my eyes hurt, and I always came home from clubs stinking of stale cigarettes.

When our health minister began banning smoking in public places, I rejoiced. And I still do. It’s much better going out these days — the air is way cleaner than it used to be, and my eyes and clothes (and nose) reap the benefits. I see friends who smoke and how they struggle to give it up, and the toll it takes on their health, and as I say, I’m grateful.

But about a week ago, for the first time ever, I suddenly had cause to regret not ever being a smoker. I was chatting to a friend who’d just moved to Cape Town, and she was saying that she wouldn’t have made any friends there if she hadn’t been a smoker. It was in the stolen moments, huddled in the cold outside with fellow puffers, when she began to forge bonds with her new colleagues. The fact that they all felt like an endangered minority fueled the sense of cameraderie.

And then it hit me. Not being a smoker has harmed my career. I always wondered how I was never up on the gossip, never seemed to meet the people from other departments and floors that others seemed to meet. Never knew quite as much about colleagues’ families and personal lives as some of my co-workers did.

I can’t think why I didn’t realise this before. I guess we all have those things that we just don’t see, when they’re staring us in the face. But the other day the scales fell from my eyes, and I realised that much of this essential networking, gossiping, getting to know who’s who, getting the inside scoop, happens among smokers in the smoking room, on the landing of the fire escape, in the courtyard, as they slip out for their fix. Being a smoker would have given me a valuable opening to talk to and meet new people. And of course I would have picked up on a lot more of the unofficial information and knowledge that’s essential to making your way in the working world. Not that I’ve done badly, but just think of what I could have achieved, had I been addicted to nicotine!

But I don’t feel too bad. I might have missed out on the smoking-room grapevine, but I’ve also escaped cancer, a hacking cough and yellow teeth. Maybe that’s not such a terrible trade-off.

(This first appeared on the Citizen Journalism in Africa site on 21st July, 2008: www.citizenjournalismafrica.org)