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Today’s Ypulse Guest Post is from Max Baumgarten, a twentysomething who braved the elements to attend the inauguration in person, and lived to tell us his story. After following all the “Tweets” and Facebook status messages from folks who were there, reading Max’s account made it all the more….visceral. If you work in youth media or marketing and have an idea for a Ypulse Guest Post, feel free to email me.

Inaugural Reflections From The Reflecting Pool

Before I start to describe the scene at the National Mall during inauguration, I should probably disclose that I didn’t vote for Barack Obama. In fact, due to a glitch with the California absentee voter registration I wasn’t able to vote for any of the candidates. So I wrote my Congresswoman a letter that articulated my frustration and consequently asked for tickets to inauguration itself. I presume someone in her office felt sorry for me so I was granted a ticket-for-one to the presidential pow-wow.

Given that other ticket holders I knew who were in attendance happened to be active Obama campaigners, influential donors, or went by the name George Clooney, I find it somewhat amusing that I was granted the all-elusive-ticket for doing exactly the opposite of what Obama probably wanted me to do — that is, vote on election day.

For about a year, I envisioned Obama’s inauguration day as a day without irony; after eight years of kind-of, sort-of liking America I could finally embrace my civic religion without major hesitations or reservations. While my guy was finally getting sworn into office, there was something inherently comical and bizarre about the entire experience. For example, the morning of the big day was anything but straight-forward:

a. I woke up an hour later than planned for no good reason.

b. I lost my digital camera somewhere in between my friend’s house and the Metro stop. So much for the “Remember that one time we went to DC and saw Obama become president” Facebook album.

c. I had to bribe a college student interning in D.C. $20 to cut her in line so I could get into the Mall before the ceremony started.

d. Even though I wore five layers on my upper-body, only a pair of ripped socks and tennis shoes protected my feet from the freezing temperatures. At one point during the day I convinced myself I caught hypothermia.

The bribing and hypothermia scare most likely went against the spirit of national unity and hope, but I somewhere made my way into the Mall. In fact, I ended up right in front of the Reflecting Pool, only 150 yards from the man of the Capitol. The ceremony began, and as I later found out official events proceeded as planned: A singing Aretha Franklin, a preaching Rick Warren, and a sworn-in Joe Biden.

And yet, standing in the crowd among two million other Americans without a JumboTron in sight, I couldn’t really tell what specifically was happening. I was trying to text with friends watching at home to get updates but my texts weren’t going through. Most of the sounds coming from the Capitol building were drowned out by chit-chat: There was the “I wonder what Michelle is wearing?” inquiry, the mean spirited and uncalled for “Bush sucks!” chant and of course the “Barack Obama is my homeboy” proclamation.

Once Obama started to recite his inaugural address, the crowd (finally) hushed. No side comments, nor whispers, just open ears trying to listen to an overpowering and reassuring voice. Call me a sucker but Obama had me at “My fellow Americans.” The awe-stricken crowd, a beautiful view of the Capitol, and a few noteworthy phrases: that’s all I needed to convince my usually cynical-self that America’s pride had been restored. And besides, I couldn’t hear anything for the rest of the speech because the security guard was screaming at the civil disobedience types trying to jump into the Reflecting Pool.

I didn’t really get to piece together the ceremony in its entirety until I watched it on Hulu later that night, but watching it on my MacBook just couldn’t compare. Attending inauguration in-person was an imperfect experience because it humanized and personalized history. Call me strange, but that’s how I like it. Now if I can only find that camera of mine.

For more posts like this one, check out the Ypulse Campus Channel sponsored by the Campus Media Group.

About Max

Max Baumgarten is a freelance writer currently living in Brooklyn. After graduating UC Berkeley in 2007, he went on to work as an editor at Unigo, a site that provides students with information concerning college. If you have any questions or inquiries, feel free to contact him via LinkedIn.

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Categorized under: Collegians

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