The Catalyst

By Kelli Konicek, Arts and Entertainment Editor

I have changed.

The 2009 Inauguration has come and gone, yet I still recall the pulsating winds that snake their way to me through massive amounts of swaying, bundled bodies. I still grin at the thought of scattered groups breaking into song before the inauguration festivities. I still feel my hands thawing as I scramble onto a twilight-colored bus.

I was given the privilege to attend the 2009 Presidential Inauguration with People to People Ambassador Programs. The trip consisted primarily of a tour around our capital’s greatest monuments and museums, but also included a hefty helping of stiff toes, shivering shoulders and rosy cheeks; these weren’t mentioned in the itinerary, of course. They were simply clumped together in a simple phrase: “Inauguration Day.” There were other surprises January 20th that had nothing to do with bodily welfare, of course- there were much bigger things going on than chilly fingers.
Perhaps I’m getting ahead of myself- It would be best to start this tale from the beginning.

It was not the luminosity of the flashing ambulance lights that bothered me so much as the sheer, unsettling number present. The group of 40-something delegates I was traveling with wove their way delicately through mazes of ambulances and fire engines, all spewing red and white light out into dark morning atmosphere. Men and women dressed in burly coats waved us onward through metal barricades, sleepily welcoming us to Washington, DC. The change was tangible in the air almost six hours before the Inauguration.
Walking for a short distance brought us to an opening to the National Mall. Usually, the National Mall is a great expanse of grass bridging the Washington Monument to the Capital Building. That morning the grass had morphed into human beings, their feet firmly planted and their shoulders brushing gently. I took my place among the forest spontaneously sprouting from the January ground. As the holes around me filled with solid bodies, my companions and I settled down for the long wait.

The cold is not to be trifled with. While most sat back in their desk chairs or sofa cushions to watch Barack Obama and Joe Biden take their places in our executive positions, a few brave souls and I huddled together in the middle of a crowd 2 million strong. Bryan, a seventeen year old from Texas, crouched on the ground, hugging his bent legs to his chest. Lorna, a seventeen year old from Wisconsin, buried her face more snuggly into her brightly colored scarf. Andrew, a seventeen year old from Utah, decided it would be funny to poke my back with the butt of a small American flag. While we all found various ways to entertain ourselves in the early morning hours, none was more appealing than the idea of song. Pockets of jubilant verse burst from sections of the crowd: Marvin Gaye, Journey, and even a little patriotic song here and there coincided peacefully. I was especially impressed that even with the early start and uncomfortable weather, people in the crowd still felt the compulsion to burst into song.

I held my breath for bad news. My mother had warned me prior to boarding the plane for Washington: “Watch out, Kelli! If you see any sign of trouble, get to the safest place you can- I don’t care what you’re doing. Just be safe.” The constant whispers of disaster startled my survival instincts into cognizance; oddly enough, they went unused throughout the morning. It seemed the only activities most felt obligated to execute were huddling together for warmth, and perhaps the occasional melodic explosion. It was almost eleven o’clock and absolutely nothing had gone wrong to my attention… except, perhaps, that my hand warmers weren’t functioning as nicely as I would have liked.

The jumbo-trons began to rouse. Instead of replaying a recent concert at the Lincoln Memorial, they began to depict scenes that surely originated from the Capital Building’s mighty interior. Several famous political entities began appearing on the screen, shuffling their way to a designated spot.

I’m afraid that this is where my knowledge ended of the actual Inaugural formalities- most of my technical information came from Daniel, a seventeen year old from Florida. Much taller than I, he would be forced to relay what was going on at the Capital Building to my slightly smaller form.

I was too short to see anything. After traveling thousands of miles and spending countless hours waiting in crowds large enough to give anyone Anthropophobia, I was positioned directly behind a man obviously related to a Neanderthal. As disappointing as this may initially seem, the Neanderthal blocking my view to the jumbo-tron was a veiled gift. Without the luxury of an electric screen, I had the opportunity to study the reactions of the people around me- my entertainment was no longer the stuffy politicians on stage, but the men and women they represented.

The more famous politicians began to exit into the view of the public. Depending on the man or woman shown on the screen, cheers or boos would resonate from the crowd. Because of the delayed timing on the jumbo-trons, one would hear the crowd’s reaction echo in accordance to the screen’s image. It was decidedly eerie.

The invocation given by Reverend Rick Warren was perhaps the eeriest element of all; As he lead “Our Father,” most in the crowd began following his lead- however, they would follow it in time with the nearest jumbo-tron. This left a resonating prayer than echoed outward from what seemed the very spot I stood. The otherwise silent, heavy atmosphere contributed greatly to the profundity and magnificence of this moment- a moment in which the millions of people in the National Mall (almost) simultaneously asked a higher power for guidance. It was a strange, almost religious experience in itself.

The remaining ceremonies unfolded much the same way- the dispersed jumbo-trons would echo strangely, creating a dreamy, underwater effect. I was still much too short to see Aretha Franklin’s ostentatious hat, and I almost completely missed Joe Biden’s oath because I was attempting to tie my shoes without colliding with several buttocks.

The moment Obama was sworn into office was powerful. The silence encasing this forest capable of cheers and hisses and boos was startling. I held bitter air into my lungs.
After those seemingly short sentences, The United States of America had a new Executive Head.

The Inaugural Address forced some nearby to cry out. Once a sentence particularly agreeable finished, some in my “neck of the woods” so to speak would cry out a euphoric “Thank God,” Or perhaps a “Yes!” Triumphs, Excitement, Hope- all were tangible at that moment. In that crowd of two million, those abstract ideologies transcended into concrete entities.

The 2009 Inauguration may have simply been one event in a million for some. For our children’s children, it may possibly appear as just another inauguration in a long line of tradition and political pomp and circumstance. The basic fundamentals of this event all point towards the affirmative of these assumptions- in theory, the 2009 Inauguration was simply another traditional induction in a very long line of such. For my own person, obviously, this event will be much more pertinent in my development as a human being that must understand the actions of her fellow man. It has certainly helped me to understand that for the better.

I have changed.