hopeful urban streets.

This week, my hometown city was besieged by millions of people who wanted to feed off the collective energy of the Obama juggernaut. Even if they didn't have a chance of getting closer than two miles to his dreamy aura, people traveled down pikes and through tunnels just to be there. With DC in the spotlight these past few days, I've been thinking a lot about my experiences in that city.

In the accumulation of twenty years I've spent living there, (until I was 18 and then for two years of graduate school), only eight of those years were ruled by a non-bastard president (namely: Clinton: 1992-90). I wonder now, as I'm living 500 miles away and Obama has finally moved into the White House, if the energy of that urban space has changed in any way. Has the influx of new blood actually altered its path through the city's arteries? As the city exudes a collective sigh, and more oxygen is released into the atmosphere, do residents think more clearly? Can they exercise more efficiently? Will their matches light faster when they strike them against the box?

During my most recent DC term (2006-2008), there were days that I felt actually beaten down by the city. It was more than a feeling of displacement or misunderstanding. I felt an active force pushing against me, pushing me out of the way, a profound sense of not fitting in. While many laud DC's layout, I felt continually challenged as a pedestrian in that city. The abundance of tourists and out-of-state temporary residents on the roads and the confusion of congested corridors, resulted in constant flouting of laws designed to protect those of us who often crossed intersections on two feet. The daily feeling of nearly being run over was not simply a metaphor.

Like so many others, though, I have hope that things will change, and I have no doubt that Obama's deep respect for collectivism will leak out of the White House and stain the DC streets a better hue.