The other night I was listening to old episodes of "This American Life" online. I came across one from '98 by Sarah Vowell (a favorite) in which she and sister Amy travel a portion of the Trail of Tears (episode link here) . Vowell is something like 1/7 Cherokee and was born in Oklahoma, where the trail finally ended. I had read the story before in her collection of essays, Take the Cannoli, but listening to the piece brought new emotion. In an event where 1/4 of those traveling died, some 4,000 people, I was appalled about how little I really knew. Like, for example, what a bastard Andrew Jackson was. I mean I always had a hunch he was a bastard, but this really gave me something to get behind. Take him off the $20, I say! It was strange listening to it in a place that was once Cherokee land; this whole region of WNC, ETN, NGA and SC was where the tribe lived.
We get so angered and appalled and shocked at events of genocide globally (as well we should) yet we disregard those instances of it in our own past. Calculated, governmentally supported instances. We are a young country with more dark than we acknowledge. By not acknowledging we stand to repeat it. Learning more about such an event makes hating aspects of this country so easy; it does not diminish my love for this place, it just forces me to be real about it.
Saturday night I stopped into Malaprops to do some book shopping on my way home from delectable desserts at Old Europe and I finally picked up Devil in the White City by Erik Larson (yes, I know, "I only read like one book a year and even I read that one" but I told you I'd get to it). So far it does much to encompass the contradiction that exists in me about the good and progress of America yet the devilish qualities that lurk as well.
All this to say, election day is only 48 hours away. My faith is not rattled by elections, as it is not based on elections, however the opinions I always seem to have are just waiting to burst forth.
Murphy sent me a text message on Friday, excitedly telling me that she'd organized a rally in DC and that Barack Obama was the keynote speaker and that she'd gotten to spend time with him. I was so excited that I too squealed for more details. I've never been excited about a politician like I am about Obama. He just brings hope that no one else carries.
*title taken from the lyrics of "White City" by Erin McKeown, song based on Larson's book.
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