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I SEE RED PEOPLE
My newsfeed turned red today. And with each change of a profile picture, I got a little teary eyed. A little chocked up. It felt bigger than anything I’d publicly taken a stance for in my adult life. Bigger than Barack Obama in 2008.
That’s saying something. Because you see, I’m a black man. And so is Barack. So as much as my pride swelled to see the white house turn black and my home state of Florida turn blue, my red newsfeed felt like a personal victory.
The collective paradigm among those I allowed access to my check-ins and albums had shifted. I watched as one by one, each friend added a photo. Then that special notification of a profile picture change appeared.
Obama ran on a platform touting change. A platform built by many people of different colors and faiths who always knew HIS day would come — that THESE kinds of days would come. We’re quick to air a television series about Nostradamus or the Mayans, but I know a man who dreamed that one day his children would be judged on the CONTENT of their character. When does THAT show go into syndication?
I asked myself why watching this red movement unfold had me so emotional?
I’ve never been able to hide the fact that I was black. But for most of my life, I hid the fact that I was gay. When you lock yourself in the closet, there’s no such thing as dreaming about one day getting married.
I always supported marriage equality. It just never appeared to be part of my storyline. Even as I became comfortable in my own skin and my salary soared above anything my parents ever earned, I refused to dream bigger than a job with a matching 401K.
Then I found the love of my life, and suddenly, I began dreaming every night. ’Cause you see, when you love someone bold enough, it needs no approval.
Who knows if I’ll ever walk down the aisle. But today, when my newsfeed turned red, I found myself daydreaming about the guest list.
- Kevin Graham