Being from Virginia, trips to Washington DC, the epicenter of American democracy, were a regular occurrence – whether that was going to the National Mall with my class or visiting a Smithsonian museum. When Barack Obama was elected as the first African American president, of course my family took a road trip.
Standing by the Washington Monument, the cold wind buffeted me, but I was too awestruck by the vastness of the crowd and the occasion to really care. Despite being unable to see the jumbotrons, I felt privileged in my matching blue overcoat and hat. I shivered with excitement when President Obama’s voice came across the speakers as he repeated the oath of office and gave his historical inaugural address. “On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and discord.” As I felt the world stop and a silence move through the crowd, I was very aware that I was a part of something special, a part of history.
As Kamala Harris’ campaign grew momentum, I became interested in attending her inauguration, thinking it would be especially great because I now lived in DC. I searched for the perfect inaugural ball gown, hoping for something less puffy than the coral ball gown I wore in 2009. However, the election results shattered my dreams, leaving me with the idea of an Inauguration Weekend getaway. Picking a random, train-accessible location, I texted a high school best friend, Giovanna (Gio), to see if she was down to explore the Hudson Valley. She said yes.
Just a six-hour train ride away was an opportunity to invigorate my resolve to move forward with audacity and with an unwavering spirit. Over the long weekend, I embodied the radical feminist idea that self care is radical. I made a deliberate choice to be near someone who I love and to engage in activities that ignited my passion for history, reading, and traveling.
After watching Crossroads, Gio and I tried hiking Overlook Mountain. I was excited for the view but forgot about the steep climb. We made it a mile up, tackled an icy trail, then I chickened out. I got a good workout and was sore for the rest of the trip. We explored downtown Saugerties before it rained, grabbed fried pickles and wings, and browsed antique stores. At Inquisitive Minds Bookstore, I found a 2-for-$5 deal and picked up books by André Leon Talley and James McBride, which had been on my TBR list for far too long. #supportindependentbookstores
During this trip, I visited my first presidential library—Franklin D. Roosevelt’s Presidential Library in Hyde Park. After reading about the Roosevelts’ beloved Hyde Park in The First Ladies by Marie Benedict and Victoria Christopher Murray last year, I wanted to see the estate that developed the only four-term president. Gio and I meticulously studied FDR’s New Deal policies in Advanced Placement U.S. History, so some of the exhibits in the library were familiar but we both learned much more about FDR’s childhood and how he managed his polio during the tour of his birthplace, Springwood.
Visiting the first presidential library reminded me how history repeats itself. Eleanor Roosevelt pushed for progressive goals, arguing that America couldn’t fight for democracy abroad without ensuring it at home. Back then, the Roosevelts faced Nazism; today, white supremacy resurfaces. Throughout Roosevelt’s campaigns, African Americans weighed whether to trust white allies for limited representation or hold onto small gains. This dilemma, rooted in the struggle for Black political influence, continued until Kamala Harris became the first Black woman to be a major political party’s presidential nominee.
Swearing in the first Black female president on Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Day would have been the ultimate celebration. A level of hope would have spread across the crowd on the Mall—-high enough to keep onlookers warm and strong enough to bring in a new wave of democracy.
Despite my best efforts, I dreaded returning to my reality of working one block from the Trump White House. In the midst of doom scrolling, I came across a MLK Jr. quote ironically perfect for the next four years ahead: “We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.” It is profoundly disappointing that on the day we honor one of the great leaders of the civil rights movement, we inaugurate a president who rejects everything Dr. King stood for.
However, after time away from DC, I have found acceptance and renewed hope, as Dr. King would have wanted, because it is always okay to take a step back in order to be able to take another step forward.
As the product of a family with strong Black matriarchs in rural Virginia, Imani Brooks is a world traveler, civil rights activist, and policy fellow at NAACP Legal Defense Fund.
Top photo source: AP Photo/Jose Luis Magana