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Arrive at my polling place. A no on 8 campaigner is handing out leaflets outside the required 100-feet.
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Late Monday night, my friend Matías IMed me with some bad news.

Basically, AB 540 — the law that grants undocumented students in-state tuition at California’s public colleges and universities — may be in jeopardy. See, in 2005 some out-of-state students challenged the legality of AB 540. The students who filed the lawsuit contend that it it is illegal for undocumented immigrants to have the right to in-state tuition, while as US citizens from another state, they have to pay more. In 2006, the lawsuit was dismissed by Yolo County Superior Court. As one would expect, the plaintiffs appealed. On Monday, the state appellate court issued an opinion that AB 540 is in conflict with federal law.

And that’s where we’re at now.

The Immigrant Legal Resource Center issued a press release saying we shouldn’t begin panicking just yet. The lawsuit against AB 540 will go back to the lower court. If the decision is made to overturn AB 540, it will likely be tied up in appeals for a number of years. AB 540 is still in tact, and will remain that way for some years.

The struggle for access to higher education for undocumented students doesn’t end there. While AB 540 does grant them in-state tuition, that’s still about $9,000 most students do not have. AB 540 students are ineligible for financial aid. Although the Federal DREAM Act has been introduced in each session of Congress since 2001, it has still not been approved. Last year, Congress tried to make it more attractive by hyping the military aspect of the DREAM Act. However, the bill failed in the Senate when they did not get enough votes to move out of debate. Last year, the California Dream Act, which would have given undocumented students access to some forms of financial aid was vetoed by Gov. Schwarzenegger.

A new version of the California Dream Act (SB 1301) is currently on the Governor’s desk waiting to signed. To find out more and sign the petition supporting SB 1301, check out El Random Hero’s post at LA Eastside.

I’ve written about this issue several times. For past posts, check here.

I watched way too much of the RNC yesterday. Today, not so much. I learned my lesson, and let’s face it John McCain isn’t as fascinating as Sarah Palin.

I heard a lot of things that deserved the Cara de Fuchi. First Rudy Giuliani sneered and laughed at the concept of being a community organizer. The overwhelmingly white audience laughed. That was bad enough. And then Palin — the pit bull with lipstick — defended her experience as a small town mayor by saying that she had actual responsibilities, unlike a community organizer. More laughter. Ugh. Bad move, GOP… especially when Day 2 of your convention was all about “service.”

But I’m biased, and you all know that. I’m all for Obama and value his experience organizing recently laid-off factory workers in the South Side of Chicago. I know many community organizers. Some of my best friends are community organizers. And guess what? They work hard and have real responsibilities.

Junichi at Poplicks articulates my feelings pretty well:

In no uncertain terms, they told Dr. King, A. Philip Randolph, Dolores Huerta, Cesar Chavez, Susan B. Anthony, Harriet Tubman, and countless other social workers, labor activists, religious leaders (on all ends of the political spectrum), and champions for the underprivileged that their work was meaningless and worthless.

So much for helping voters forget that John McCain voted against a holiday honoring MLK.

As if grassroots organizing was not already the key to Obama’s success, Sarah Palin just stoked the fires of the wrong base.

Jay Smooth, my favorite vlogger, noted the similarities between the RNC and the Player Hater’s Ball. He also has some great points about community organizers working with churches.

Finally, I saw this on Twitter a couple of times: Jesus was a community organizer and Pontius Pilate was a governor.

Hmmm.

I don’t remember the exact words from Julia Alvarez’s In the Name of Salomé, but I do remember the sentiment:

A poet puts into words what can’t be put into words.

Kris articulated exactly how I felt today, how I felt in 2000 (even voting Green!) and 2004. He’s a poet.

America felt especially beautiful this morning.
New York City feels especially beautiful today.
I can’t quite wrap my head around how beautiful the whole world might look tomorrow morning.

I voted today. I’ve never voted in a primary before. I’ve been registered as Independent since Nader–and no, I didn’t cost Gore the presidency, Mom. When I moved back to New York, I re-joined the Democratic party. I did it so I could vote for Obama.

So okay, it’s not a shock that I’d be voting for this guy. I’m a member of the hip-hop generation. There’s a cool ass Black dude–a Progressive cool ass Black dude–running for President? Of course he gets my vote. He’s from Chicago, he plays basketball, he owns up to his youthful indiscretions? Sign me up. And he can speak? He can speak with rhythm, with flavorful cadences, with enthusiasm and passion and accessibility? He can speak to me, directly to me, the way so many hip-hop artists and theater artists and neighborhood geniuses have spoken to me, full of confidence without bluster, swagger with compassion, spirit and spirituality and yeah, I say this without irony, love in his voice and his heart? And he’s young, he’s handsome, he’s–I can’t believe I’m saying this–electable? I’m voting. I voted. I ride for Barack.

AND he sounds like The Rock? Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeit (c) Clay Davis.

My vote isn’t surprising.

But my dad reminded me to vote today. He voted early. I think he voted for Barack. But even that’s not surprising, really–my dad likes cool ass Black dudes as much as I do. He has a bust of Marx on his bookshelves. He’s also a real estate agent now (hmm–think about that one). He’s a Democrat, pretty through and through. And he digs Obama. Not a shock.

My mom–look, my mom is a woman. My mom is a Baby Boomer woman who rode for The Clintons like I ride for Barack. My mom has been ready to vote for Hillary since that first post-Lewinski press conference, I bit. She’s the kind of relatively conservative Democrat that the Clintons want to have dinner with up in Chappaqua. She’s the kind of voter that Hillary’s folks are counting as givens. And yeah, she’ll probably vote for Hillary. But as I write this, she’s undecided. She’s that taken in by this guy.

It’s beautiful.

I’ve voted in two other presidential elections in my lifetime. Nader had me (and many of my peers) fired up because he represented something different. He was a voice for the issues we felt were important. We knew he wouldn’t win. We didn’t care about him winning. We went Green and independent because we were independent, because we needed to be heard somehow, and he was the way to get heard. And we lost, and our second choice lost, and it was disheartening, yes, but it felt like we were speaking loud and clear, and lo and behold–our second choice is now the greenest motherfucker in politics. And film, for that matter. As Fergie and Daddy Yankee would say: “Impacto.”

In 2004, we mobilized and we mobilized strong. We rode hard for Kerry, not because any of us really dug Kerry, but because–well, you know. And we lost. I remember being at Southpaw on election night, watching Baba Israel and J-Love and company bring hip-hop and funk and US to the presidential election. We went to bed that night thinking we had changed the way things were done. We woke up to find out the efforts had fallen short. The students I had been working with on the campaign said things like: “Why should I even register when I turn eighteen? We did all this work, and it didn’t make a difference.” I knew where they were coming from. I couldn’t teach that day. I cried tears of frustration in the office when no one was looking. The tears were about losing so much as anger at the process–we poured this much work into getting behind a guy that NO ONE really wanted to see as President. And we still almost made it happen. Imagine if it was Edwards. Imagine if it was a cool ass smart ass Black dude. Things would have changed.

But of course, things do change, and impacts are made, and now, today, it’s soggy and nasty in New York, but The Giants are parading in the Canyon of Heroes, and there’s an energy here, yo.

Brooklyn College (the most ethnically diverse institution I know of in NYC) is buzzing. For a primary.
Emerson Middle School, where I voted, was buzzing. For a primary.

There’s a guy we care about, and he’s running against a woman who, all things being equal, would be a President I could stand behind. Hell, there’s a crazy old Republican with a crazy way old mother who I could stand behind (The old guy, not the mom. No wait–the mom too). There’s an internet rock star independent thinker sticking around, stirring things up. And yeah, there’s a business as usual Mormon robo-politican around, and a religious conservative dude–but hey, no Rudy.

And there’s Barack Hussein Effing Obama, who has put tears in the back of my eyes, who has me believing in Bob The Builder slogans (Yes We Can!) as a sign of potential social change.

I’m not convinced he’s going to win.
Hell, I’m not convinced he’ll get nominated.
And I’m sure that if he does win, he’ll never–NEVER–live up to everything that my generation is expecting of him.
He might not be the best President ever.

And you know what? It wouldn’t matter.

Because right now, a whole lot of people fucking care for once.
And we care because this dude is here.

Neither my state nor Kris’ state has gone for Obama, but there’s still hope.