Annette John-Hall: Ask not what Obama can do

WASHINGTON - That giant sigh you hear is me exhaling.

Because now that the election is over and Barack Obama has won, I can ask:

Mr. President-elect, what are you going to do for black folks?

Hold on a minute. Before you hit the send button on those e-mails, hear me out.

Fact is, for all the celebration of color-blind voting patterns, Sen. John McCain carried the white vote pretty decisively, according to exit polling. Which means that if only whites had voted, the Republican senator would have coasted to the presidency.

Sure, I realize it was a racially diverse coalition of all ethnicities, creeds and ages that backed Obama. And I'm still celebrating how we all came together in the name of unity to make history.

But no one can deny that African Americans, a rock-solid demographic for so many Democrats, helped sweep him to victory.

Black voters turned out in record numbers. A third were new voters. And, according to the exit polls, an estimated 94 percent of us put him over the top.

So it makes sense to ask: With our nation's resources on life support and African Americans hanging by a thread to the bottom rung of every economic indicator, does Obama owe black folks anything for their loyalty?

Well, does he? Isn't that how politics works?

The question couldn't be avoided among members of the Trotter Group, an assemblage of African American opinion writers who convened in the nation's capital last week.

Most of us represent cities, a connection shared by our president-elect.

All around, we see crumbling infrastructure, inferior public schools, grinding poverty. All which disproportionately affects African Americans. We watch as big-city mayors, including Mayor Nutter, respond to tight economic times by slashing services.

Still, African Americans muzzled their criticism of Obama, even when, in retrospect, some say it was warranted.

During the campaign, eyebrows were raised over what some African Americans perceived as a double standard: Obama's showing up at black venues and emphasizing personal responsibility, then mostly talking economic policy before predominantly white crowds.

Jesse Jackson and PBS commentator Tavis Smiley expressed their displeasure and are still feeling whiplash from the, uh, "blacklash."

That's because most in the black community understood the precarious position he was in, that Obama had our best interests at heart - even if he couldn't be seen with us too much, lest he scare off the other side of the Obamanation family

.

Now that Obama has triumphed, black Americans can't help but feel "an awkward hopefulness," says Greg Carr, professor of African American studies at Howard University. "But we also have a sense of impending dread. We don't have a blueprint for this kind of president, and don't know what he'll do, beyond the fact he's already helped the T-shirt vendors."

The reality is black folks shouldn't feel like they've hit the lotto when they wake up to President Obama in the White House on Jan. 21. Nobody should.

But the hope, at least for cities, is that Obama will establish an Office of Urban Policy in the White House. It's a promise he plans to keep, says Valerie Jarrett, cochair of Obama's transition team.

And that brings up another question, which may be the most relevant of all:

What do we owe Obama?

Better yet, what do we owe ourselves?

Because as Obama has said over and over, this moment in history is not about him.

It's about us.

Are we bold enough to think big, make a plan, stay engaged?

With our future president providing a much-needed example of a strong family, do we strengthen our own structures, thereby advocating for civil rights 21st-century-style?

Isn't that really the question?

"It's the challenge of a lifetime," says Michael Strautmanis, chief counsel to Obama's campaign. "I was too young to participate in the civil-rights movement, so what is my challenge? How do I put my shoulder to the wheel of history?

"This is it."