Like the end of a crescendo, we are experiencing a silence.

The calm after a political storm like nothing many of us have ever seen. In its aftermath we now have a president not chosen by the people, but in fact chosen by the system. Many of us now feel like those poor folks in Alabama whose homes were destroyed by tornadoes last week, wondering "why me?" or more appropriately "why us." Why did our houses, so to speak, get trashed and the homes and hopes of others get spared?

Why do we feel so bad and why can others feel so good in the wake of all that thunder, lightning, wind and rain? 

Now we begin the process of getting past the shock and anger phase of what happened to us over the last month. We have had a chance now to grieve about it, even anticipated grieving about it. Now we will have to start picking up the pieces of our political shelters and moving on. Things didn’t go the way we thought it might and like twisters that come down from the sky it asserts that life isn’t always fair. But it also means if you’re around to look over the damage, that you can recover, rebuild and revitalize. You have another chance. 

Some people may feel they have worked for nothing and that all their efforts were lost. This is so far from the truth it isn’t funny. Because of the work to get out the vote, people not only know that every vote is important but also that information about how to cast it is just as vital. I now know about the existence of boxes of ballots called "under votes."

The battle cry for the new millennium has been born. "Let every vote count!"

A new (but apparently old) issue can become the masthead for more change to take place and push this country to the way we would really like it to be.  

But it will only happen if the issue isn’t allowed to be swept under the rug. If somehow the frustration and bitterness of losing this time makes people complacent or even rebelliously apathetic.  

The fight for voting reform should be pursued with the same fervor and/or fear, whichever one uses to motivate themselves to action. But throwing your hands in the air and giving up should not be an option. 

While many of us are somewhat devastated by what happened during this election, a lot of us are barely scathed. Maybe it’s because when there’s not much to lose, there’s not much to mourn when it is lost.

Let me also say that the future administration is aware of its precarious start. It is making an effort to diffuse at least one issue that has been an achilles heel for them — diversity.

The naming of Bronx native Colin Powell and Condeleeza Rice to key positions isn’t some token gesture. To put it bluntly, "they’ve got skills."

Powell for certain, in my opinion, is no Clarence Thomas.

In fact, he seemed even more presidential than his future boss did on the day Bush nominated him for the role of secretary of state. 

The new administration may have felt pressured to make these choices early on because there has always been a sense that they have been less than friendly to the needs of our community. We may not applaud the reason for putting people of color into positions of power but I think in these cases we should be hopeful of the work they might be able to accomplish while there. 

I know it’s tough to feel good about who Powell will be working for, but I think actions will speak louder than words. 

Thomas had a chance to become his own person like other Republican appointees on the Supreme Court, but he chose to become Antonin Scalia’s towel boy. I don’t believe Powell will be a towel boy for anyone. I would be disappointed if he or anyone else of color in this new administration did. 

The silver lining in the post-storm clouds that hover over the political future include a new push for voting reform, an awareness of the power of your vote, more registered voters and finally a concession of sorts from Republicans that know they will need to include us in the administration of the country if they want even a prayer’s chance at keeping power. 

Who says you can’t get something good from Republicans?

Remember Abraham Lincoln. He was one.