Election Coverage
I just spent a half-hour parked outside my apartment with my cab driver. His words:
“I was born in Haiti. I was top of my class. I was intelligent.
“When I came to America, I went to public school. The teachers wouldn’t listen to me. I had financial problems and went to a welfare office. They wouldn’t help me. I spent five days homeless in a train station. I went to the top of a building and thought about jumping off. I thought that this country was no place for a black man. I thought that this skin didn’t belong here.
“Yesterday, I felt my intelligence coming back.”
After this - no kidding - I shook his hands with both of mine, and he kissed my hands, and said “I love you, man.” I told him I loved him too.
If this election gives the country even remotely the sense of connectedness it just gave me, then we’re going to be okay.
Beautiful.
