For the last several years I’ve been relatively ashamed and embarrassed at calling myself an America. The purpose of this country has always been to represent the interests of the people, and it has far too often neglected to do just that. Witnessing the election here in Manhattan brought the first sense of pride I’ve had in this country since 9/11.

I didn’t have work, or class, so the day was mine to relish. I went to Times Square around 3:00pm where CNN had set up a big screen. Anyone who passed stopped and watched, transfixed on the magnitude of what was happening before all of us. After spending some time at a bar for a friend’s birthday, I headed home to my apartment on the upper west side around 10:30. Not long after it was announced, and my roommate and I heard hoards of screams coming from outside. I walked outside where I was met with a man and his family getting out of a cab right in front of my building.

“What’s going on?” he asked after hearing the screams of joy.

“Obama won.”

“Oh. So does this mean our lives are going to get better now?”

“I think so.”

I walked towards Broadway and 125^th Street; the source of the celebration. From the distance I could see people dancing in the street and others with their fists pumping in the air. As I reached the corner, a group of people all gave me high fives, and a few broke down into tears on their knees. A black man hugged me as cars drove by honking their horns and said, “We’re the same, brother.”

I don’t often get choked with pride, especially not in recent years. But a tear formed in my eye, and for the first time since I can’t remember, I was proud to be an American.