Elizabeth Alexander was in her hotel room in Washington, DC, one frigid winter morning when she was awakened by a strange noise outside her window. She peered outside and saw a sea of people, bundled against the cold, walking in the predawn darkness towards the National Mall.
It was January 20, 2009, and the crowds were on their way to witness the inauguration of Barack Hussein Obama, the nationโs first Black president. The sound she heard was their footsteps, marching almost in unison as their numbers grew, which sounded to Alexander like the โgrowing rumble of thunder or a crashing wave.โ
Alexander had a coveted hotel room near the Mall that day because she was a special guest of Obamaโs. He had asked Alexander, an author and poet who was then a professor at Yale University, to compose and recite a poem for his inaugural. Upon reaching the inaugural platform, Alexander saw she was sharing the stage with dignitaries such as boxing legend Muhammad Ali, singer Aretha Franklin, author and Holocaust survivorย Elie Wiesel,ย civil rights icon John Lewis and former Secretary of Stateย Colin Powell.ย
When she stepped to the podium to speak, the temperature was around 30 degrees and the skies were clear and breezy. She began reciting her poem, โPraise Song for the Day,โ an exhortation to โSing the names of the dead who brought us here โฆ who picked the cotton and lettuce.โ
And as she gazed out at the crowd of atย least a million peopleย gathered before her, Alexander saw something that was as inspiring as any poetic flourish she could conjure for the occasion.
โWhen I looked out to the sheer infinity of people, it was a crowd to the naked eye without end,โ she says today. โIt was hugely multicultural. It went across ages, colors. It went across all visual types.โ
After finishing her…
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