STEVEN IVORY

Perhaps the Change Sam Cooke Sang about Has Come

By STEVEN IVORY

I pulled into the supermarket parking lot and noticed a silver compact hybrid with an Obama sticker on its bumper. In all these months, I'd never seen one. An Obama sticker, I mean.

Which means I hadn't seen an Obama sticker on a car belonging to a white person, either. But there he was, a late 20-something man, loading groceries into the little silver car. I got excited.

Fact is, I see plenty TV news footage of Obama surrounded by fervent white supporters, proudly flaunting their Obama stickers, badges and signs. However, as someone old enough to have witnessed the days when blacks in this country were routinely treated by the government and its people as second class citizens, I'm not ashamed to say that, for me, the concept of white people seriously supporting a black man for President still remains something of an anomaly. Aside from my white friends--who don't count--I'd never actually met a white Obama supporter.

But now I had me one in this kid at the silver hybrid. Anxiously I found a space, got out of my car and walked over.

“You think he's got a chance?” I asked casually, pointing at his bumper sticker. The man looked up from his cargo and gave me a second's once-over. “I dunno--I think he does.” A slight smile countered his contemplative lilt. In a T-shirt, faded jeans and a stocking cap on his head, he was a handsome guy--tall, with blue eyes and a five o'clock shadow that gave him a pseudo rugged look.

“I've been listening to what he's saying,” he said, shutting the car's rear passenger door, opening the front driver's side and resting one foot on the floorboard to pause and chat. “I've not really been involved in politics before, but he's got me interested. He's saying a lot of things that make sense....”

“And to think,” I said, seeking profoundness in pointing out how times have changed, “you're interested in a man for President who looks like me. That's saying something.”

Just WHAT it said apparently didn't register to the young man, who gave me a blank glance. “He doesn't sound like the rest of the politicians,” he continued. “You know? A politician is a politician, but for once, it doesn't sound like rhetoric to me. I like him.”

“Well,” I said, trying again, “it's just an exciting time in America when the country actually gives a man of his hue a real shot.” Again, silence.

Three or four times in our brief conversation, I broached the same decidedly weighty thought--my incredulity that a black man is seriously being considered for President by a segment of America that happens to be something other than black--and every single time the young man responded like a dog hearing a high frequency whistle whose shrill left him puzzled. I finally put a halt to my harassment and let the man leave.

At fifty-two, I can remember when blacks in America weren't allowed to drink from the same water fountain as whites; stay in the same hotels, shop in the same department stores (and if they did, weren't allowed to try on clothing before purchasing it) or sit at restaurant counters. These things went on in my lifetime.

Thus, like many black Americans, I did not believe I'd live to see the day and circumstance of a Barack Obama. For such an occurrence, I believed America would have to morph into an impossible utopia where racism was abolished, where the tragic aftermath of Hurricane Katrina simply would not be tolerated. For Obama to have a sliver of a chance, I figured America would have to be a place where people of color, women, the poor and the disabled were treated with dignity and equality.

What I have learned is that there will always be racism. There will always be sexism, as there will always be people who simply don't care about the welfare of others. That's just who people can be.

However, another part of America's culture is change--radical, dynamic and compassionate--in which people of all colors make choices based on what they feel is right. Doesn't mean those people haven't been racist or sexist in their lives. They still might be. Nevertheless, those people and others have been able to do something I did not expect to witness.

The man in the parking lot is like so many others his age who see Barack Obama as President: he realizes Obama is black the way he understands that he has friends of all colors and backgrounds. As remarkable as I might find it, Obama's color is not an issue to this man. He likes what Obama is talking about. And so, he's going to vote for him. Simple as that.

Obama talks a lot about bringing change. Thank God, some of that change has already arrived. And on certain days, when I stop and ponder it all, this just blows my mind.

Steven Ivory's book, FOOL IN LOVE (Touchstone/Simon & Schuster) is in stores now or at Amazon.com (www.Amazon.com) Respond to him via STEVRIVORY@AOL.COM or MYfeedback@eurweb.com