I walk out my front door, and the Capitol greets me brightly, as always. Hop in my car, start the engine. Within three minutes, I'm passing by the Library of Congress. The Supreme Court intimidatingly exudes authority over passersby like me, but I quickly leave it behind. I meander my way through the Tidal Basin. Look left, and Thomas Jefferson sits peacefully in his memorial. Look right, and the steps that King made famous sprawl, empty, in front of the Lincoln Memorial. Look up, and the red eyes of the Washington Monument blink somberly back at me. These images of grandeur are soon replaced by the Potomac River, whose murky waters are lit by the Georgetown waterfront.
I twist through the verdurous Rock Creek Parkway, which spits me out onto Embassy Row. Naval Observatory on my left, Catholic Church protester on my right. I turn onto Wisconsin Avenue, passing the luminous National Cathedral. I turn right, pulling into Sidwell Friends and the safe haven at the end of my journey.
Though those high school days are buried in the past, my love for the city that raised me is far from six feet under. DC was much maligned throughout the campaign, with repeated reports of Obama's lack of comfort with the city. Platform of change? Great. But at the sake of my city's reputation? Eh... I know, I know, Change Doesn't Come From Washington, It Comes To Washington™. That's all well and good; I agree our government could use some work. But my man always tread a thin line between polemicizing against the federal government and flat out diminishing the prestige of the nation's capital. The fight for the dignity of my city was the one dispute I never really could settle with Barack, FISA and Rick Warren be damned. Politics is one thing, but when you start talking about my home, well, I can't and don't take it lightly.
So with the Obamas moving to town this weekend and the city preparing for the historic arrival of many of you readers, I decided my first dKos diary needed to be an impassioned defense of my favorite place in the world.
Oh, we've got our blemishes. DC is a bastion of crime and crumbling schools nearly as much as it is a representation of the beauty of our democracy.
But we've got history. Walk down U Street, through Shaw. You can taste, smell DC's vibrant history at Ben's Chili Bowl. Feel and hear it in the go-go beat we all walk to.
We've got work ethic. Go to Eastern Market, where the same families have been working the meat stands for generations, even with the occasional fire burning down their livelihood.
We've got excitement. Look at the faces of the young staffers moving brusquely through the congressional office buildings, and you know they feel it. Or check out quirky Adams Morgan, bustling with a mix of twenty-somethings and the shopkeepers of unknown ethnic origin.
We've got fantastic restaurants, fanatic sports fans, tight-knit communities. (That line about needing a dog if you want a friend in DC? Not true in the least.) It's not New York, but it doesn't try to be; we don't need a phallic-laced skyline to emphasize our stature, thank you very much. Classical elegance will do just fine, with the Washington Monument and Capitol simply serving as exclamation points.
And nowhere does past merge so seamlessly with present and future. Right at this moment, construction workers are busy building the site of the most historic Inauguration of our generation. But take a trip back in time, and that exact location has seen FDR, JFK, and others with three-letter immortalizations who would change the course of our collective history. Four years from now, it'll see another such occasion, and then it'll happen again. And again.
The capital of the world's preeminent democracy should be inspiring and uplifting. Rich with occasions past and home to a bright future. Beautiful, friendly, and hopeful.
Give DC a chance and you'll see that it is.