The election of a black as president

How much the world can change within the short span of one human lifetime.

As he spoke Tuesday night against the graceful stretch of Chicago's Grant Park, newly elected president Barack Obama ran through an assortment of benchmark events that had been witnessed by Ann Nixon Cooper, a 106-year-old voter from Atlanta.

It was, without a doubt, the most moving passage in an eloquent victory speech.

"After 106 years in America," Obama said, "through the best of times and the darkest of hours, she knows how America can change."

How breathtakingly it can.

And it doesn't necessarily take 106 years.

Just go back 47. Think of what America was like in 1961, the year Obama was born.

That was the year of the Freedom Riders. It was still legal to refuse service to blacks in theaters, restaurants and hotels. Employers commonly discriminated for racial reasons. Literacy tests were imposed by some states as a way to block minorities from the voting booth. If you watched television or went to the movies, the faces you saw on the screens were almost exclusively white but for a rare and usually stereotypical exception. At the country clubs, membership was still restricted by the PGA. Many universities refused to admit blacks. Schools were segregated. Discrimination and racial steering were prevalent in home sales.

Bigotry was overt, and it was rampant.

And no one, in 1961, realistically imagined living to see a black elected president.

(For a little perspective on the country's deep-seated prejudices, it's worth remembering that until 1960 and the election of John F. Kennedy, no one could imagine a Roman Catholic making it to the White House. To this day, a Jew hasn't won a major party nomination, and neither has a woman. In fact, Obama isn't just the first minority elected president; he's the first candidate to be elected with roots outside northern Europe. That's how exclusive the club has been.)

Politics and ideologies aside, this election is no small thing. The milestone deserves recognition and, yes, celebration.

What does it mean?

Reflecting on Obama's victory, the Rev. Clyde H. Brooks, who long has worked in the suburbs for civil rights and social justice, observed, "A lot of people, black and white, have paved the way to make 'My country, 'tis of thee' a reality."

That, most gently, is what this means. "My country, 'tis of thee. Sweet land of liberty."

There remains a long way to go to achieve racial justice and harmony in the United States, a long way to go to end prejudice and bigotry.

But Obama's election provides a symbol of the great progress that has been made. And the hope that more is to come.

Just imagine. How much has changed.

Each of us, no matter our politics, should absolutely burst with pride and determination.