In a room of about 70 black students Tuesday night, the sound of hope was deafening.

At 11 p.m. CNN projected Barack Obama would be the next president of the United States, and Stephens Hall erupted in ear-splitting applause.

It was a decision two years in the making, and pundits had long called the landslide victory in Obama's favor. But many at this nearly all-black event hosted by Delta Sigma Theta, a historically black sorority, were in a state of disbelief.

As her friends bounced around, hugging each other and screaming, tears streamed down sorority member Denaja Robinson's face.

"It's a blessing," Robinson (senior-health policy and administration) said. "To see an African American in office after all that we've been through. ... There's really nothing to say right now."

Monique Davis (senior-recreation, park and tourism management) was also misty-eyed.

"I talked to my mom, and she was crying along with me," she said.

Obama talked at length on the campaign trail about hope for a united America, hope for an America that would return to good international standing.

For many in Stephens Hall, the hope they talked about was for the country's legions of minorities, of unshackling an American past of victimization.

Each time Chavez Carter, a Mississippi native and first-year doctorate student at Penn State, stares in the mirror, he said his freckles remind him of the slave master that once owned his grandmother's grandmother.

More than a century later, Carter's father became the first black mayor in his rural, tri-county area. An Obama presidency would add another layer to the black American dream for his 5-year-old daughter, he said.

"For my little girl, being a young black woman, it makes it a little more tangible," Carter said.

Laurence Prescott, who teaches an African American studies course, said Obama's election is the culmination of the Founding Fathers' intentions.

"This represents not just a symbolic act but a concrete reality," he said.

J. Randall Cooper, president of the Black Graduate Students Association, was similarly reflective after watching Obama's victory speech with his club members.

"We recognize that this is the moment that [Abraham] Lincoln signed his name for, the moment that Rosa Parks didn't give up her seat for, the moment that Martin Luther King dreamed of, the moment that Thurgood Marshall litigated for. ... We watched and we literally basked in the moment," he said.

Many deflected the race issue, however. Cristen Adams (senior-life science), whose pedigree mirrors Obama's -- white mother, black father -- said Obama's biracial background didn't factor into her vote.

"A man is a man," she said. "In this election I don't think race had much to do with it."

Daniel Hall, class of 2008, praised Obama's post-race campaign as a sign of the shifting of the guard from older black leaders like Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton.

"I really do think it's a new way of thinking," Hall said.

As the celebration continued after Obama's victory, revelers spilled into the balcony overlooking College Avenue, yelling joyously down to onlookers.

Amid the excitement, Robinson's speechlessness turned to a nagging fear for Obama's family.

"I'm just afraid America isn't ready for a black president," she said.

Hundreds began pouring into the streets, snaking up Shortlidge Road toward Beaver Stadium. Honking horns and impromptu chants spurred a palpable fervor.

But back in the barren south quad, the shrill voices of a few straggling black women pierced the air. "Obama! Obama!" they cried.

"Shut the f--- up!" bellowed a man from his Hartranft Hall window.

"I pay for my education!" insinuated another anonymous voice.

The ballots may be tallied, but this one is long from over.