When I stood in line to cast my vote just a few short months ago, I didn't base it on skin color. I put no thought into which candidates matched my skin tone the best or which one had the same hair texture as my own. I didn't check the box because I wanted to elect a black or white or mixed man. I voted for who would change the United States that my children live in.
When Barack Obama won the Presidency just a few short months ago I didn't care that he was African American. I didn't care what shade of brown he was. I didn't care that his children and wife are African American. It simply doesn't matter to me. Obama doesn't represent a color to me. He represents something much larger than a shade on a color wheel.
When I watched the inauguration this morning I stayed true to my non-caring ways. The color of my President's skin makes no difference to me. Every time I heard this was a momentous occasion I nodded my head because truly it was a momentous occasion because we had a renewed spirit, not a skin color change. I just don't care that my President is black. I don't care.
I do care that he's brought young and old together, rich and poor, hopeful and the destitute. I care that people who have never paid attention to their government are now paying a little closer attention. I care that President Obama represents a new beginning, a new change and a new face with a fresh set of eyes. I care that we, as a nation, have finally looked past the skin color and gotten to the core of a man.
Skin color makes no difference to me, I just simply don't care about it.