As I stood in line to vote today, I suddenly and unexpectedly became quite emotional. Tears actually welled up in my eyes as the realization settled in that, for the very first time in 38 years, I felt genuinely proud to be American.  

This may make some people wonder what kind of unpatriotic person I have been all my life.  No, I am not, never have been, and will never be a communist or a socialist. I am a young woman who has always felt fortunate to have been born in the United States and grateful for the privileges that I have been granted as a U.S. citizen.  However, I never felt anything like pride or patriotism toward my country.  I have defended the U.S. government when I thought someone was making an unfair judgment against it, and I have boasted about the many great things about this country.  I have also been very critical of our government at times, and do not deny the many negative facets of what I view as a deterioration in the quality of our culture and society over the past 20 or so years.

Growing up Catholic in Detroit certainly contributed significantly to my becoming an individual who is acutely aware of the social injustices that surround her.  In fact, I believe it played a major role in inspiring me to spend 10 years of my life working in Paraguay to bring more humane conditions and rehabilitation to incarcerated youth.  When I was in Paraguay, I missed people and places like fancy bookstores where I could browse at my leisure while drinking a latte.  Yet, I could never really say I missed the United States.  There are things I would say I love about the U.S., and I admit I always got excited when I was flying back home and reached an altitude where the gridlines, neatly parceled land, and other apparently highly organized infrastructure came into sight through the clouds. I felt happy to be home, but I still did not feel anything resembling genuine pride.

Pride is a feeling of pleasure or satisfaction over something regarded as highly honorable.  I suppose I always felt that there was too much injustice in this country to feel proud about it.  Today that changed.  I became so excited as I picked up my ballot that I wanted to tell all of the other voters in line how happy I was to be taking part in this historic election.  I could not understand why the other people around me were not more excited. I wanted to shout, “We are about to have the first African American President of the United States!”  How truly exciting!  And yes, to be proud can also mean to be full of vigor and spirit, and that I was as I left my polling place.

For anyone who is not feeling proud today, I urge you to take heed in the words "united we stand, divided we fall."   Today I am confident that our nation is taking a first and crucial step toward greater unity, solidarity, and justice for all people at home and abroad. There is still a tremendous amount of work ahead of us, but I find it will be easier for those of us who can share in the magical feeling of pride that I know people of my generation are feeling today.

It is a wonderful feeling to be proud to be American for the first time. In fact I am more than proud, I am full of hope, and for that I am grateful to God.