I had a major realization this morning, watching the inauguration online (at work; technically forbidden, but I can't see them getting their panties in a bunch over this one).
America-even my particular state, which is Midwestern, and you don't get more conservative than the American Midwest-just put a black man with a Muslim middle name into the White House. For the first time in my entire life, that little trope about "anyone can be President" really, truly came true for those of us who aren't wealthy old white men. I'm excited and worried and giddy with glee, all at once. Quite heady, let me tell you.
Sweet Jesus. I have no excuses anymore. I can't even whine about The Man keeping me down, because apparently he has no problem allowing a black man into the White House, and if The Man'll do that, he really shouldn't mind one small working class white woman attaining her modest dreams. For once, it really, really feels like anything can be. Hard work can, minority status, or whatever you perceive your personal handicaps to be, be damned, reap large rewards.
The key, I think, is to do directed hard work. I mean, I work hard. Like a dog, at times. But I'm not really working towards any particular goal I hold; other than not getting fired. What would happen if I actually got up off my ass, picked a goal I want, not a goal society or my family tell me I should want, and threw myself at it with all my heart and soul? What would happen if I truly went to work for myself, not for someone else, not for a sense of security (one which I know is patently false--I've been fired before, after all) but just for me and my own profit?
Holy smokes, y'all. Holy smokes.