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The New President


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I got out of the car in the morning and sprinted into school. Students made a pathway for me like they were expecting me to rush into school late. Students parted like water and I was Moses instructing them to stay away. Other than me being late, it was just another typical day in the eighth grade. I knew it was election day, but really, do I care? I have no interest in politics. In the past we briefly spoke about election day in social studies class with our teacher, Mrs. Skeleton, but nothing major. Once I got settled down to my first class I noticed things were different. All the TVs remained on throughout the day at school. Teachers never have the TV's on so it appeared to be a special day.

As Mrs. Skeleton walks into class she gives her typical boring spiel. She stands up straight in front of the class as if she herself is the President of the United States. With an excited look on her face she asks the class, "Do you guys know what today is?" I quietly look around the classroom to see if there are any takers raising their hands, but nope, none. I could actually hear grasshoppers slowly dying as they make their final noises. "Well okay..." she proceeds, "Today is election day! This is a very special one too, indeed. No matter what the outcome is this is the first time an African American and a woman has run for President. This day will be in your future history books, your kids history textbooks."

Oh right right, I remember I thought to myself. This guy's name is Barak Obama who is running against another man named John McCain. Within minutes I am back to daydreaming in class. I just really don't like history.

As I finally walk into my house after a long day, I realize it is actually late. Expecting my parents to be in bed, I walk in my house and am surprised to see my parents anxiously staring at the TV screen like a pageant queen waiting to hear her name get called. I ask my mom what this is all about. She says, "Sher, today, November 4th, is really a special day. This could finally be the first time an African American wins the presidential election. I know this might not mean a lot to you now, but in the future you're going to appreciate this. So, sit your butt down and watch this and see who wins." So I unwillingly sit down on the rug next to my dog and buried my face into his fur, but something on TV catches my eye. The guy running for president, Barak Obama, is in Chicago. Grant Park to be exact. The TV suddenly sucks me in. On the bottom of the screen numbers are being tallied up and they start to increase rapidly.

It is finally time. They are now announcing the new President of the United States. I'm not going to lie, I am pretty excited. As I hear the annnouncer say, "Barak Obama!" they show a screen shot of the quarter-million people jammed pack in Chicago. Jumping up and down, throwing stuff in the air. I turn to my mom and dad as they stare in amazement at the TV. They hug and look very happy. A new beginning. My dog starts jumping on the TV stand with all the people in the background. Obama has a huge grin on his face and hugs his wife and wave at the crowd for what seems like hours.



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