Our sister Michelle

As I sit here, riveted by the television watching the Democratic National Convention on CNN, I know that Ida B. Wells, Fannie Lou Hamer, Coretta Scott King, Shirley Chisholm and my own beloved Granny are smiling down from heaven and sending a spirit of peace down to our future first lady Michelle Obama.

I know that it is her husband who is running for President and not her, but her presence on the stage - standing proud, strong, beautiful, intelligent fills me with a sort of unplaceable pride and gives me a feeling of joy and hope. During my freshman year, my momma would send me little care packages to lift my spirits when the burdens of being a young black woman at an elite college got a little too heavy. She would always include an inspirational note cards with dancing, smiling black women encouraging me to take heart and claim my inheritance of excellence. And while those cards put a smile on my face to know that at home, Mommy was holding me down in prayer I wasn't all too sure...

Then Michelle Obama comes on the scene; standing serenely next to Brother Barack; enduring the type of media scrutiny that has largely bypassed Cindy McCain; raising her girls and hopping all over the nation to campaign on her husband's behalf. All the while quietly helping to change conceptions of what black womanhood can mean. She has faced down all the attacks on her personality, background and statements with grace. She did not let the punditry turn her into a caricature of the ugly stereotype of the black woman - harsh, brash, angry. She was too smooth to go down like that.
Seeing a woman come from a background that is so similar to mine and other young sisters -proudly African American, highly educated and talented emboldens us. She is another positive reflection and I appreciate her calm presence in this circus of a campaign season.

I indeed speak her name and secretly wish I could cast a vote for Obama/Obama in November.