Change

I've thought long and hard today amid the festivities of the inauguration about change and history.

It's hard to put into words. I think, I, as a person of color, never realized just how much the election of President Obama meant to the Black community until I attended the Florida Classic in November. It was there, I realized the enormity of the outcome of the election.

I'm Hispanic and I was thrilled that someone other than a gray haired white man was going to be leading the nation -- I'll admit that. Though, I generally base my vote on whom I think will actually make a good difference.

I was a late bloomer as it were to the Obama camp. I think it wasn't actually until he had sewn up the nomination and I heard him speak in Tampa that he actually convinced me that he was the man for the job. By that point, really, it was a matter of McCain convincing me that the maverick I once knew no longer existed.

But I digress. I realized how much Obama meant when I started thinking of the history of black America. I share part of that history because Jim Crow laws often affected me and my parents too. To be told that you are not good enough to stay at the same hotel, eat at the same cafe, go to the same school and overcome that to become President of the United States of America -- that's monumental.

So today, I shed a few tears alongside those in the Capitol Mall. I shed a few tears of joy.

It's been a long time coming. That does not mean Barack gets a pass. I expect him to keep campaign promises. In fact, maybe I expect a bit more. Because the pride, the expectations, the honor of many Americans are riding on his shoulders.

Don't let us down.