On the night that Barack Obama was first elected president, I went to a narrow sports bar in the small Dutch town where I was studying.
We propped ourselves against walls, balanced cross-legged on stools, and watched. In our glasses, leggings, and sweaters, we embraced between tears at the outcome. According to emails I wrote the following evening, nobody left until dawn.
Obama was, very simply, our candidate. For a precocious group of students of...
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