Waiting on hope, I stood outside for two hours in Wisconsin snow with frozen feet. I listened to people's intimate conversations because we were that close. I felt pressed by white people around me, and I felt fine. I saw African-Americans from a distance without panic. I was one of thousands, and no fear gripped me, even as the thousands pressed forward. I let myself be carried, then I walked and walked up stairs, finally arriving at the tiptop. There was no place but the top for a woman who doesn't like heights. This night I was a woman waiting...