A New World, Maybe?

With all that has been going on with my dad, I had completely lost sight of the wonderful mood the country is in, with Obama coming into office and Dubya leaving it. The day we have waited for is almost here.
The MLK Scholarship benefit, which took place at University Synagogue but was hosted by the AME church of Irvine, which does not have its own building (a situation our synagogue once shared), took me out of my funk and into that mood. It made me feel that the harmony I had hoped for when I was growing up in Philadelphia had a chance right here and now. Of course, Irvine is not Philadelphia. It will take some doing to arrive there. Philadelphia is such a hostile, angry, dirty, and ugly place, for the most part. The roots of that anger and hatred are deep and well-watered. But here, at least, love was the order of the day.
It felt odd to be a guest in my own synagogue, but then again, the Church allotted a room for the choir to prepare and practice; our own synagogue forgot to do that at High Holiday time. The truth is, there just wasn't any place for us to be, although we are such an important part of those services. And they put out such a wonderful, carefully chosen meal for us, including lox and other treats.
The performances at the concert were amazing, especially the Step Dancing. I had never seen or even heard of Step Dancing before today. The sound system at the synagogue is appalling, which is too bad because no one could hear the words of any of the songs, but this didn't stop the Step Dancing and the AME choir's performance from being amazingly wonderful. It was hard to follow them, as comparatively reserved and quiet as our group is.
Everyone was up and clapping, dancing, enjoying the music. Step dancing, as far as I could make out with the bum sound system, is a product of black sororities and fraternities. Like drumline, it is a synchronized combination of sound and movement. With just their mouths and their bodies, the performers managed to create intricate patterns. It's too bad I couldn't understand what they were saying too, despite my hearing aids.
I looked in vain for the ladies' big hats that I had expected. I guess in California they are not the thing. Instead, there were lots of African robes and headresses, beautiful ones. And wonderful ornate hair styles. They must have taken days to do, some of them.
At the end of the concert, we all joined hands and sang "We Shall Overcome." And I think perhaps we may just have done it.