History, hope and a high note

I thought I'd move on from the inauguration, but like a catchy song it still plays in my head.

At first my ears caught a few missed notes, such as the part of President Obama's speech that listed the pain of our ancestors.

"For us, they packed up their few worldly possessions and traveled across oceans in search of a new life. For us, they toiled in sweatshops and settled the West, endured the lash of the whip and plowed the hard earth."

Settled the West keeps ringing in my ears. Where are the Indians?

American history is full of instances in which one group's achievements came at the cost of another group's loss, making ours a tricky history to recount.

But a gap that significant made me wince.

Anyone else left out? No? Bueno, let's move on.

Politically, the speech did touch a lot of bases. It swung from right to left, so different groups could alternate their smiles and frowns.

That was consistent with the inconsistency of having the opening prayer delivered by the Rev. Rick Warren, admired by the religious right, and the benediction by an icon of the civil-rights movement, the Rev. Joseph Lowery.

Eventually, I stopped counting notes and listened to the tune.

Watching Lowery speak, made me blink back tears. Black people of a certain age deserve this moment's joy.

The president reminded us that he was taking the oath in a city where 60 years ago his father might have been denied service in a restaurant.

We have come that far.

We'll know we've reached the mountain top, when some future president has to remind people of those bad old days when many American children didn't get the education they need to thrive.

People will shake their heads at us.

Commentators noted that Obama was more somber in his speech than the masses who listened to him.

We really wanted something to celebrate. A beginning, an ending, new hope for better times.

(I wrote about the significance of his election in a piece you can read on BlackPast.org.)

I watched the inauguration at the Northwest African American Museum.

One of my young colleagues was there, April Simpson, a 24-year-old news producer.

She expects Obama's presidency will affect "the ways in which black folks are understood, and how we see ourselves."

Simpson said she has big dreams for herself: "When I look at Michelle Obama, I genuinely begin to believe that I will see them through."

Sarajane Milder, was there, too. She's white, and has a few years on Simpson. She shared in the joy felt by people in the racially mixed crowd. Milder explained the feeling this way: "We feel that he's ours. And that he's the best of what's in us. His eloquence makes us want to hope again; to have aspirations again; to want to participate in a civil society again; that it's necessary for us to participate, and that because of us he was able to become our 44th president."

Only a deep melody could have so many people humming like that.

Jerry Large's column appears Monday and Thursday. Reach him at 206-464-3346 or jlarge@seattletimes.com.