So did several thousand others. The crowd was rather awkward - what do you do when a president is about to be introduced? There were nervous giggles when it was the Bishop from Liberia who approached the podium, and not the president herself. Herself.
The thick accent of the Bishop running through the list of the President's accomplishments left me antsy, as we all waited through the "opening band" for the "main act." And then she came.
I stood. Everybody applauded. Several female African delegates did celebratory trills and whoops which made the President smile. Her gold head scarf and dress shone under the lights, and a patterned black wrap draped over one shoulder. Several times it slid, and she smoothly continued her speech and attempted to adjust it. A couple of times a female aide came up quietly behind her to secure it. It's never easy being a head of state. Especially when your accessories act up.
Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, President of Liberia, has the posture of Maya Angelou - straight, confident - the comfortable familiarity of Ronald Reagan - want a cookie? - and the tenacity of Winston Churchill. She's also a grandma.
Her speech was well-crafted, statements both reporting on her country and challenging listeners for the present and the future. I don't remember all of it, just a few chance phrases here and there. I do know she beat Charles Taylor, ushering out the tumultous days of uprising and rebellion. I know that children used to run in fear from her motorcade - a habit from former days - and now they clamor and approach when it comes, yelling for her to descend and greet them. I know that she fled for refuge to the U.S. when the political scene got bad some years back. She has a Harvard education, a light accent tinged with British tones, and a great deal of self-respect individually and nationally. And that is what she is helping to bestow on her country: self-respect. They're addressing an unemployment rate that was estimated at around 85%, after conducting the first census in over twenty years. They're building schools and training teachers (many of whom had only high school level education themselves). They're building self-respect, as individuals, and as a nation.
Ellen Johnson Sirleaf is the first female leader of an African nation (well, unless you go back to the times of Cleopatra). This mention got rousing applause, the crowd stood. I stood. This woman had begun life in Liberia as a student of a United Methodist school. Bishop Innis, who introduced her, emphasized this fact: Methodist missionaries were in Liberia before it was even established as such. And Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, he said, is a daughter of Methodism.
Women, men - support your missionaries.
After her formal speech ended, she quipped, "and now I will go down into the crowd, like a good politician." She did, and there was singing, and after she climbed the steps back to the platform, the bishops began to line up. It took at least another ten minutes for all of them to file past, greeting her, one eliciting laugher after he stood back and took a photo of her with his cellphone.
White men were lined up to meet a black woman.
Men were lined up to show respect to a woman.
Elderly white men who looked a lot like the men who tried to crowd out my minister mom from pastoral service stood in line to meet a woman. They waited in line to pay respects.
And afterwards, when I saw a friend outside the convention center standing in the sun, we chatted briefly about the address. "You have to understand," my eyes pushing back tears, "how personal this was for me." The truth was, I still had pink bunny kleenex wadded in my hand from the hour before, when I was trying desperately to keep tears in my eyes and not ruining my mascara. I kept sniffing. And the cold I was developing was not the cause.
I had WITNESSED A WOMAN PRESIDENT. It reminded me of the time when I was little and I was taken to see Margaret Thatcher. I didn't get, at the time, just who she was or why it was important.
I got it this time.
I had WITNESSED A WOMAN RECEIVING HONOR, from some powerful men.
And it's very plain that SHE DESERVED IT.
I hadn't realized how it still hurt, the memories of struggles Mom had had just to be considered an equal. I knew I was defensive for her, on her behalf. I always knew she was a good, competent pastor. I knew that some would never see past her chromosomes. And an ache grew, deep inside.
Yesterday, a bit of that ache healed. It began to heal a moment or two after I stood - for a woman who had entered the room.
At that moment, Ellen Johnson Sirleaf was sharing honor with all women who have been mistreated, maligned, ignored, disrespected, and dishonored.
Honor is healing. Honor your mothers, sisters, daughters. Honor the President of Liberia. Be honored. Be healed.
And then this one:
So now it's racist to make sure the international delegates have cell phones just like everybody else? And what, African or Asian delegates can have their votes bought with a measly phone? Yeah, cause it's not racist to suggest that.
American delegates wouldn't dream of going to a conference for two weeks without their cell phones.
Something about blatant inconsistency annoys me.
Maybe I'll just put these chronic complainers' staplers in Jell-O. Or throw their cell phones in the ceiling.
So plenary sessions begin today - that means a full house is meeting now that legislative committees has sifted through all the petitions and resolutions.
And I had a smoothie for breakfast. It was strawberry banana, but I think I'll now call strawberry banana smoothies plenary smoothies. Plenary sounds like a fruit, right?
The Big Stuff today is, of course, moving to plenary sessions, but also Judicial Council elections this morning. The Judicial Council is the Supreme Court of the United Methodist Church, and they've been becoming more and more prominent the last few years as they've had to deal with challenges to Conference decisions.
Our work room looks like the workspace of a presidential candidate. Cords, coffee cups, highlighted paper, flash drives, bananas and mini candy bars, cardboard boxes, multiple printers all running out of ink and toner at the same time, and giant post-its on a wall that we haven't used since last Wednesday because the roller coaster hasn't stopped since. Technically, the work room is for Good News work, but a lot of Renewal/Reform Coalition people are in and out, which basically makes it Times Square. Times Square with people needing you to print things from your laptop frequently.
So, there've been a lot of lunches lately. Today's is the Lifewatch lunch - the lady speaking is really cool. Carol Everett used to run several Dallas abortion clinics, but somehow switched positions and now speaks and works on behalf of life.
Tomorrow, my new roommate (the final of three) will speak on persecution and human rights issues of Christians around the world. Faith McDonnell works on behalf of human rights for the Institute on Religion and Democracy.
Well, the air conditioning is on again and freezing me into the Arctic, so I'm off to grab a jacket and walk over to the Convention Center to see what's happenin'.
"Former Abortion Clinic Owner Share Story with Delegates"