Barack Obama is the President-Elect of our country. All I can say is, “Wow!” An African-American will be the leader of the free world.

I’m glad that Obama won the way that he did. Not only did he win by a landslide, but he won in traditionally Republican states. Now no one can say that he is the African-American president or the Democratic president. This mandate gives him the authority to say the he is the president for all Americans.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I was ambivalent about Obama and his policies, but I fully understood the significance of his candidacy. What his nomination taught us is that the nation has changed in ways that would have been unthinkable a few years ago. In 1978, when I was in third grade, I was bussed to a predominantly white magnet school. I was one this first African-American students to attend the school. When we arrived, we were greeted by protesters who made it clear that they didn’t want us there. What a difference 30 years make.

My wife and children have been utterly obsessed with Obama and his family. My wife bought bumper stickers, built slide-shows to send to her associates, and spent countless hours reading blogs and news reports. One night she came into the bedroom boiling with anger. She had just read a letter from Dr. James Dobson’s organization Focus on the Family. The letter was filled with fear-mongering, hate and misinformation. Reading this letter hurt my wife deeply because she respected Dr. Dobson and his dedication to preserving family values. She wrote her own letter in defense of Obama and sent it to Dr. Dobson to express her displeasure at his inflammatory comments. After the election results were in, she was so happy that she was close to tears.

My daughter, who has followed the campaign from the start, came home very upset one day because one of her second grade classmates called her weird because she said she was voting for Obama. She also told my wife and me that the class gasped in horror when another little girl stood up and voiced her support for Obama. Today, they will be vindicated.

Even my five year old has been proclaiming his support for Obama. He was a bit disappointed when my wife informed him that he could not actually vote because he wasn’t old enough. He said that he would vote for Obama when he turns eighteen. I didn’t have the heart to dash his dreams.

A world of possibilities has opened up for my children. Now they can aspire to be anything they want to be including president of the United States. I love the following quote because it speaks so much truth: Rosa Parks walked so Martin Luther King could walk. Martin Luther King walked so Barack Obama could run. Barack Obama ran so our children could fly.

America is the greatest country in the world. I am overjoyed that Americans were able to place their racial differences aside and usher in a new era of change. Regardless of political affiliation, every American should be proud. I know I am. God Bless America!

Stay Strong,
Mocha Dad

P.S. - My daughter, Nee, never wants to get up when my wife, K, wakes her up for school. K thought for sure that the news of Obama’s victory would cause Nee to jump out of bed. 

“Wake up,” K said. “Barack Obama won. He is president.”

Nee rolled over the in bed as said, “That’s not going to make me want to get out of the bed. If you told me that you had a new doll for me, that would make me want to get out of the bed.”

I guess Obama trails Barbie among 7-year old girls.

Today the nation remembers the horrific events of September 11, 2001. On that day, seven years ago, I was serving on a jury for a personal injury case. Since I arrived at the courthouse two hours early, I decided to get some breakfast. I arrived at the mall just as the second plane hit the tower. I noticed people crowded around a television in Radio Shack which I thought was peculiar because it was too early for Radio Shack to be open. They were replaying film from the first attack when I walked in. I thought it was a movie at first, but the looks on everyone’s faces told me that it was real. My body grew tense as I stared at the screen. I could only think about the people on the planes. I travel by plane at least once a month and was already a bit nervous about flying. What if it had been my plane that they hijacked? The thought terrified me.

I forgot about breakfast and headed back to the courthouse. While I was walking, I called my wife to tell her what had happened. She didn’t believe me immediately because tendency to pull her leg from time to time. It wasn’t until she turned on the television that she finally understood the magnitude of the situation.

“Are you coming home?” She asked with concern in her voice.

“I don’t know,” I told her. “I’ll have to see when I get back to the courthouse.”

The third plane had crashed into the Pentagon by the time I returned. The bailiffs gathered all of the jurors into a room and told us to wait until the judges made a decision on whether the trials would continue. We all sat nervously hoping that we would be released to go home to our families. My first child had only been born only five months earlier and I wanted to be at home with her and my wife. The bailiff returned and told us that the trails would proceed as planned.

“But we’re in a government building,” someone yelled. “What if they decide to attack us?”

“We have the building secured,” said the bailiff. “Everyone will safe.” His words were not very comforting because we all realized that we were unsure of what safe meant anymore.

During the following weeks, I felt a strong connection to my country and to my fellow citizens. It was great to see Americans put aside their differences and come together for a common purpose. Of course, things are much different now. Our country is more divided than ever and I’m not sure that we’re any safer than we were before 9/11.

I haven’t really talked about the events of September 11th with my kids. I guess I have tried to shield them from the evil that exists. I know it’s only a matter of time before their innocence is shattered and they learn that danger is pervasive in this world. When they do, it will be my job as their father to provide them with a sense of comfort and security.

My wife and visited New York in 1999 and purchased a photograph of the World Trade Center from a street vendor. At the moment, we didn’t realize how significant our purchase was. We simply liked the photography. But now that photographs constantly reminds us of the day that changed the world forever.

Stay Strong,
Mocha Dad

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My blog’s title is obviously a play on Mocha Moms, a support group for mothers of color who have chosen not to work full-time outside of the home in order to devote more time to their families. I respect their mission and focus, but I think it’s time that black fathers have a voice. I’m not talking about baby daddies; I’m talking about bonafide black daddies who are committed to raising strong, moral, successful children despite cultural and social pressures. Being a black man in America ain’t easy. Nor is being a father. Combine the two and you have a potentially stressful situation that causes many to abdicate their responsibilities. I want to celebrate the men who accept this challenge every day.

This blog will allow me to to post my observations, good or bad, on the state of black fatherhood and the black family. I don’t claim to be an expert on these topics; however, raising three children of my own has given me enough experiences to share. Even if I didn’t have kids, I could spend days commenting on stories in the news and on the web.

I have done many things in my life and nothing comes close to the joy that I have received from raising my kids. I know there are many brothas who feel the same way.

I hope you enjoy this blog and visit often. Feel free to post your comments and let me know what you think about it.

Finally, I want to give a shout out to Joyce Davis. Her blog Enjoycinglife encouraged me to start writing again.

Stay strong,
Mocha Dad