An Open Letter To My President, Barack Hussein Obama

Dear President Obama,

I want to first start out by saying thank you. Thank you for everything you have done, and tried to do for this country. When you were first elected in 2008, I was only 12 at the time. I was living in a bubble and had no idea what you actually meant. I had no idea why your inauguration was such a groundbreaking event. Admittedly, I was drinking the Kool-Aid about America being this post-racial society where your election was a testament for that. I never grew up during the early years of the Civil Rights Movement where a black man becoming a leader of the free world was so out of reach and just imaginary. So when my mother kept me home from school that day on January 20, 2009, I did not understand. I didn’t know why my mother was crying and my father was getting misty eyed. But as I grew up, I realized why who you are, is everything America needs. Your audacity to aspire to greatness did not stop you in your mission to make a difference, and has even led you to become president. The history books will always reflect that.

Maya Angelou wrote in her poem “Still I Rise,” ‘I am the dream and the hope of the slave./I rise/I rise/I rise’. You represent hope. You’re the dream that blacks have had for a long time. Your slogan was right, “Yes We Can.” Everything you personify; that no matter how much the chips are against us, we can and will always rise. Now that there was one of you, believe there will be so many more. If the highest person in the land could be a black man, the sky’s the limit.

It wasn’t even just you. Your family was also quite the sight. As said in the BET documentary “Through the Fire: The Legacy of Barack Obama,” having a black First Family living in the White House that was built by slaves is full circle and symbolic. Your wife, Michelle Obama, and all her unapologetically blackness was something to see. In a society that demonizes black women not only for her race but also for her gender; having a powerful, intelligent and beautiful black woman in the White House was the positive image black girls and women everywhere needed. She was so poised especially in the face of people who were trying to break her stride. But still, she rose with her head held high. Your daughters, Mr. President, were magical as well. They grew up in the White House, and they have been surrounded with nothing but excellence. I, like the rest of the world am anxious to see how they successful they’ll be. Being raised by Michelle and yourself, I have no doubt success will be inevitable. Could presidency run in the family? Only time will tell. (Please be yes.)

Now that your presidency is regretfully over, I just want to say I, and a whole lot of Americans will miss you. It was always my worst nightmare to think of life without you being the president. You were that safe haven. No matter what happened in this country, I always felt secure because you were in the White House. Now that peace of mind is gone and frankly, I’m scared. There is virtually no one in government who has our best interests in mind, and the ones that do don’t have the power to really tip the balance. When you climbed into that helicopter, you were the last person with any real power that truly cared for the people. And now all of your hard work will be undone to debase your legacy. But to me, just being the person you were for the last eight years, which were the best eight years, is the true legacy. You will always be my president. I will miss the light you emitted, especially in this approaching dark time.

Sincerely yours.