On the morning after the U.S. presidential election earlier this November, I left a message for my eldest daughter in New York: “Today, take a picture of my granddaughter holding the newspaper announcing President‑elect Obama’s victory.” That was my request.

We still do not know how America will change or where the world is heading, but regardless of political party, this election clearly marks a turning point in history. That evening, when I opened my email, there was a photo of my two‑and‑a‑half‑year‑old granddaughter standing with a newspaper almost bigger than she was, smiling shyly. As my husband and I looked at her picture, our hearts filled with hope and expectation for the future more than ever before.

Throughout this election—one that drew the world’s attention—I carried much prayer and concern. Living in the South, where white supremacy still lingers, the closer we came to Election Day, the more malicious rumors and fearful, one‑sided opinions appeared in letters to the editor. Even I found myself worrying that the voting machines might malfunction on Election Day. Eventually, I waited forty minutes at an early‑voting site last month to cast my ballot, and in that moment I felt how deeply people longed for change.

Now, for the first time in 232 years of American history, the nation has chosen Barack Obama, a Black president. Only forty years have passed since the Voting Rights Act of 1965 first guaranteed voting rights to Black Americans and other minorities. This is nothing short of historic—almost revolutionary. Although President‑elect Obama is not a descendant of Kunta Kinte, brought from Africa in chains, the fact that he is a person of color makes this moment profoundly moving and hopeful.

Our family immigrated in the early 1980s and lived mostly in large cities among diverse communities. Thanks to the gains of the civil rights movement, we never personally experienced the harsh, painful realities of racial discrimination. But remembering that there was once a time in America when signs read, “No dogs, no Blacks, no Chinese,” we can imagine how deep the wounds of discrimination once were.

As I think about the new world my granddaughter will grow up in, I am reminded of Joseph, the dreamer. Joseph, whose dreams provoked jealousy and rejection from his brothers. Joseph, who became a foreigner in a strange land, enduring contempt, loneliness, and injustice. Joseph, who later stood as prime minister and said to the very brothers who came begging for food, “It was not you who sent me here, but God,” embracing them with forgiveness and reconciliation.

Like Joseph, I pray that President‑elect Obama will lift what history has hidden under the carpet—turning inequality into fairness, fear of war into the news of peace, restoring dignity to the marginalized, giving courage to those who have failed, and opening the way to medical care for those who suffer without insurance.

May he become such a leader for our nation.

— Yoon Wan‑Hee, LA Christian Today, 11/19/2008