97. White Brooklyn Teacher With Black Husband And 3-Year-Old Son

My dad and I happen upon a church where Barack is speaking. Entering, I feel a strong sense of being different from the mostly black congregation.

Barack stands at the pulpit, but he is old and pale with a receding, red afro. I am surprised that he is so much less attractive than in my mind.

I know the religious right in the congregation are plotting his downfall. Then something odd falls from his person. It is a round object that resembles a child’s rubbery, flashing Spike Ball.

I know that in the ball lies the success of Barack's campaign. Only one other person sees it fall, and in her eyes I can tell that she also knows of its power.

The average-looking woman and I tussle for the ball and when I come up victorious, I notice a change in the congregation. About half of the African-Americans are now white.

I hand the ball to Michelle, who doesn't thank me. I exit the church and shrug my shoulders at the woman I scuffled with and say, Sorry.