For those of you who want some extra credit. I've decided that if you went to the rally, but didn't know about the extra credit assignment then you can post about what you observed at the rally on the blog and I'll give you 15 points towards your grade if you do a good job. For this, I'm not interested in hearing about your political stance, but about what you observed.
I believe that it was Edmund Leech, an important anthropologist who wrote "Political Systems of Highland Burma", who once dropped his notes in the river so he had to recall of them by memory. So I'm giving you the opportunity to recall the notes that you took in your mind.
So on the blog, you can post about your participant observation if you went to the rally in the South Loop.
If you want additional extra credit, then you can conduct a participant observation at the 55th Annual Powwow at the UIC Pavilion. I'll give you 25 points for this assignment too if you do a good job. Just give me your notes, and a typed up version of your notes for full credit. In the typed of version, try to make sense of your notes. Tell me if you noticed any patterns or uncovered any symbols, etc.
It's an inclusive event. It's probably about $10 to get in. There will be a lot of great food there....like Indian tacos, and fry bread, soups....mmmmmmm.
Here's the info:
http://www.aic-chicago.org/powwow.html
American Indian Center’s
55th Annual Powwow
November 14-16, 2008
AIC Powwow
UIC Pavilion ( University of Illinois, Chicago campus)
1150 W. Harrison Street
Chicago, IL
Relive the excitement of the 54th Annual AIC Powwow
Contact us: rhodge@uic.edu
Vendors: contact joep@aic-chicago.org
Host hotel: 99.00 per night, free parking (10 minutes from powwow)
Will accommodate large vehicles for vendors.
For more information: aic50@aic-chicago.org
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One would forgive if I had a hard time playing the role of observer at the Barack Obama rally. There were two reasons that I found myself being so positively enthralled with the energy of the park, that I could barely remember to breathe, let alone take notes of the people around me.
First of all—what I DID notice: It seems that the energy of the people was an overall friendly one. Since everyone there was a Obama supporter (or just entirely fed up with our current administration), we all had a common jump off point to start any conversation. Because the weather was so mild, there was a lot of walking around and socializing, more often with people I didn’t know. There was Sandy and her boyfriend Rob, who came from Indiana for the festivities. Sandy told me that Indiana “went red last election, and [she] was pretty ticked off.” She and Rob voted and then immediately took the drive here to Chicago. Sandy, blonde and in her 30’s, didn’t feel the least bit hokey for being caught up with our “Obamarama.” She laughed easily at my corny jokes and her boyfriend wasn’t the least bit jealous that she was paying so much attention to me.
When the huge television screens announced that Obama had captured Pennsylvania, a battleground state, it seemed that the entire crowd exploded in jubilation. We cheered, and Rob shook my hand (as if I were the governor of Pennsylvania, and I had given the state to Obama). Then, a moment later, just as someone had shut off a faucet somewhere, the stream of cheers died down to the previous drip of casual conversations shared among people who had just met one another that night.
Several people had their televisions out—little battery-powered 12-inchers—that I imagined gave a more intimate view than the enormous screens that towered over the park.
What I noticed wasn’t so much what people were doing and saying, as much as how they actually felt. The overall mood was an electric one—tangible and palpable. I could almost taste the anticipation that had built up—and there were still many states’ votes to be tabulated.
One of the things that made my visit to Grant Park was my meeting Mickey. Mickey was a black dude, 72 years old. He was still fit in his khaki pants and black “Change we can believe in” T-Shirt. The most fascinating thing I learned about Mickey was that he was no stranger to big crowds and the good moods that permeated them. “I was at the March on Washington in ’63,” he told me, “I was at the Million-Man march, too.” I had to pick my jaw up off the ground. Surely he was kidding. But he wasn’t.
Mickey said that during the March on Washington, he walked with several people he didn’t even know, but they were acting like they were old friends. He said that there were black, white, Spanish, young and old people there. I took a look around my general area, and sure enough, the make up of the crowd that surrounded me was similar to his 45 years before. I asked if he was there at Grant Park with anyone, and he said that he wasn’t but it still felt like he was among friends. I knew exactly how he felt.
The Million Man March was different than the March on Washington, in that there were a lot more vendors in the ’92 event, selling T-shirts, bottled water, and all sorts of memorabilia. I came across a few people selling stuff, but not that many. I didn’t know if Mickey felt that there were too many vendors in our area; after all, it’s something that’s more indicative of my generation than his.
The crowd went up into a huge roar again, and this time there was no person turning off the faucet of noise. I realized that Obama had secured the election, capturing California and several other western states. What? I thought this would be close, but the tally of electoral votes told me differently, Obama had McCain by a 2 to 1 margin. People were hugging each other and slapping high fives and embracing and crying and cheering and laughing and hollering and shouting. One person in the distance (about three deep in front of me) actually dropped to his knees and raised his hands to the sky! I wanted to tell him, “hey, it’s only an election,” but who was I to stop him from expressing himself? Mickey and slapped high-fives, and I saw tears building up in his eyes. I left him, because I can’t stand to see people cry, as it brings tears from my eyes as well. But everything did feel so surreal from that moment on. I never thought in my lifetime that I’d see a black president. So I was floating and falling and exhilarated and exhausted all at the same time like the rest of the rally-goers.
I guess that’s why I couldn’t speak as Obama finally made his way to the podium to deliver his victory speech. I guess that’s why no one could speak. I wasn’t worshipping of the man, but I was in awe of the event and of the history I was a part of. I’d heard several of Obama’s speeches throughout his campaign; but I have to say that this speech really was powerful. We broke out in cheers and interrupted him in a couple spots—particularly when he quoted Lincoln (“this country of the people, by the people and for the people did not perish from the earth…”) and King (“we as a people will get there”). It was like Obama was singing for his dinner.
I saw how energy is transferable between speaker and audience and back to speaker again. Obama energized us, and we him. When Obama spoke of the 106-year-old voter who voted for the first time, there wasn’t a dry eye in the park. This was the part where I got choked up, because I come from Mississippi, and some of my high school teachers told me about first-hand voting experiences that would make your flesh crawl. But the crowd was one behind Obama. That’s probably the best way to describe it. The one way to describe the multitude of folks in Grant Park that night is “a unit.”
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