Saturday, September 5, 2009

My letter to President Obama

Dear President Obama:

I have been so proud to have supported you. I have been a huge fan, a campaigner one-on-one, a wearer of hats and shirts and buttons.

I cried when you won, I cried when you took the oath. I cried when you spoke to us about "our moment."

When you said, "This is our moment, this is our time," I believed you. I believed that what you said during the campaign was true, that we were going to take our country and turn it back into what it was meant to be: by the People, for the People. Our civil liberties would be restored, our country's shame ended, our dignity rebuilt. Yes, we can, we said, because we must.

I believed you. I will never forget that.

As of today, I still believe you. And I want to believe that you are smarter than me, that you see all of the pieces and know how to do what you promised. That you will not abandon us now that the real "moment" has arrived. Because, of course, that wasn't really the moment. That was only the moment of possibility and it had to happen to get us anywhere. But the real moment is now, sir. The real moment, when you stand up and say to the people who don't care if children die of cancer next door as long as they have their money in their pockets, the people who are screaming about socialism and death and fear and fear and fear and racism, that we just don't need them any more. We have the votes, we have the procedures and we will get this done.

If you cannot do that, if you cannot stand up for me and my kids and my parents and my neighbors and your own mother, for God's sake, and tell them to go away, we don't need them, I will be done with you. I will wish you well, I will pray for you, but I will not be with you, sir. I cannot be with you if it all was a lie. I cannot.

And it will make me cry again, sir, because I really did believe you could do it. I really believed that soon I would not have to worry if my kids got sick or my best friend needed surgery or I got into an accident. Someday soon, I could stop worrying about that because we would join the other civilized nations in this world and act like civilized people and not allow the rich to profit off the suffering of their fellow men.

I want to cry with joy again, sir. I want to cry with pride that my leader, the man I voted for, a father of children the same age as mine who understood my life, stood up and did what he said he would do. But if you make me cry with disappointment and shame, sir, I will never forget that either.

My children, my mother and I visited Washington, DC this summer. We stood in front of your house, sir, as your neighbors and your friends and we were proud. Please make us proud again.