Change has come to America, and I have to say that I really don’t see it. I tried to see it, I tried to maintain an even keel as I was glued to the television in a way that I haven’t been since I watched two planes slam into the World Trade Center, and I tried to pull myself away from the television as I watched the talking heads prattle on about how Obama became president without taking the oath during Yo-Yo Ma’s music.

Luckily, we live in a country that allows us to transfer power from one leader to another without bloodshed, with carefully choreographed maneuvers, and all of it televised on every channel on my television, even if I didn’t want to watch it. This inauguration is no different.

I’m just upset that, although change has come, the rules still apply. I read that thousands and thousands of people applied for White House staff positions, only to learn that they couldn’t have a job because of felony convictions. I know that it was time for a change, but “parole officer” is not a job title that belongs in the most important office in the world.

I couldn’t care less how much you supported Obama in the campaign; I don’t care how much money you donated to the cause; and I really don’t care about the color of your skin: If you are a convicted felon, you can’t work in a building that has some of the nation’s most “top secrets.” It’s not that we’re mean, it’s just that we would rather you not have a stressful day and decide to trade the missile launch codes for a hit of smack on the corner of Pennsylvania and West Executive avenues. But then again, if you could trade the secrets of Area 51 for a couple of pounds of Acapulco Gold, so we can all know what kind of aliens we are hiding there …

One change I am still waiting for is race cards. I know that some of us have had them for years now. I can name several people whose cards are well tattered and worn out after decades and decades of waving them on TV. Everyone should turn them in. That’s change I can believe in.

President Obama had to give up his Blackberry, license, credit cards, keys, and his race card on January 20 when he took the oath. I think the Secret Service holds those in a secure place for the next four years, which means he is the president, not the black one or the white one. I don’t think color got him here, and I am more than sick and tired of the color of his skin coming into play every time we talk about the president. I wish he would have burned his race card that day. I can only imagine what the national mall would have looked like with a million citizens burning their cards, too.

Speaking of the national mall, I want to make an observation about the state of the national mall after the inauguration. Actually, I want to call out the political party famous for environmental issues, saving the earth, and volunteering. Yes, I am talking about the Democratic Party. You guys (I’m assuming the 1.5 million people at the inauguration weren’t Republicans) left the national mall looking like Nicholson Drive after an LSU football game that we lost … to Nick Saban. For people that just showed up eight hours ago, y’all left a ton of trash and flags.

There were 100,000 flags given out that morning to wave, and they picked up 10,000 after President Obama took off for the balls. Ten thousand people love their country so much that they took the symbol and left it on the ground with common trash, but only after trashing the national mall, too. It’s like saying “I love LSU football, so I am going to set fire to the stadium to show my love …”

I’m still waiting for the change to come. I thought the country was going to embrace the love once the election results were in and hold hands in the streets and sing songs of peace. I thought I was going to walk down one of those streets named after dead presidents north of LSU and not be shot. I was hoping I could ride my bike to Sunny Weathers’ house and not be mugged. I really thought we as a country could hold ourselves together and not scream race for at least a couple of months. Man, was I wrong.

Oscar Grant was shot and killed New Year’s Day by a Bay Area Rapid Transit officer, Johannes Mehserle, who seemed to have reached for his sidearm instead of the Taser he had received only two weeks prior. It took only a week for the riots to begin.

Now, I understand that it may seem that, when a white officer kills an unarmed black man at point-blank range, the black community at large should take to the streets and riot, destroying everything in their path. You would think that, if Oakland would go rioting, they would attack something more profitable than their own neighborhood. But the rioters managed to destroy Creative African Braids, and then had the guts to tell the owner that she was lucky it was her business, not her life, that was destroyed. Even the cable networks airing the feedback online could only show the racial slurs directed at the officer until one brave soul mentioned that, if you had watched the shooting, the officer had a look of shock that indicated that he drew the wrong weapon.

Did a section of Oakland have to be destroyed to show the country that the Bay Area was tired of whites shooting blacks? No, the fact that the cop has to live with what he did for the rest of his life should be punishment enough. Would I be writing this if the BART officer were black, Asian, or Hispanic? Probably not. If the man shot and killed were pasty and pale, would I have rioted in the streets over this heinous hate crime? No, there is no Best Buy by my apartment.

Change needs to come in the form of nonviolent, peaceful ways to bring grievances to the table. Dr. King never rioted. He used peace to achieve his goals, a change that would be refreshing to see in this day and age.

And speaking of Dr. King, the role models need to change for the black community. African Americans finally have a chance to look up to a president and say, “I want to be like you.” For too long, rappers and ball players have dominated the role models of an entire race.

I hope that January 20 woke up the spirit of learning and dreams in the hearts of millions. Maybe the change President Obama promised will be generations of people getting out there and earning a diploma to go to college, joining the workforce and getting off of welfare, or even respecting themselves and their families by not becoming pregnant in middle and high school. Maybe the change promised will be that a generation of Americans will do better than their parents. Now that is change I can believe in.

It’s February and Black History Month. I’m tired of reading about the Tuskegee Airmen, George Washington Carver, and Martin Luther King. Some of the airmen are still alive, but the rest of the black leaders are dead. I would like to come back next year for my annual Black History Month report and say that the people we honor during Black History Month are still alive and living in our communities among us. But that is all the hope and change that I can muster for now.