In 2008, I watched the Democratic Convention from the lounge of the hospital NICU unit that was my newborn son’s home for the first month of his life. (He was born 8 weeks early; he is and has been perfectly healthy.)
Back then, we were all poised for an election that we hoped would signal the birth of a new moment in this country.
And back then, I was worried about whether New Orleans—the birthplace of Allen Toussaint (who wrote this tune), and the focus of my work at that time—would survive.
I remember that feeling.
I remember wondering why Obama’s team didn’t keep in that last “can” with their campaign slogan.
Now, I feel like we’re aiming for the end of an extended, painful and dangerous moment, and I’m worried if any of us will survive.
Here‘s what I wrote at the time for the Truthdig site—about Obama, Toussaint and the rhythms of our democratic process.