A letter to my son
I know full well that there are many out there who will disagree with this post. PLEASE do not leave nasty comments here though, ok? I support your right to disagree (and actually your right to say so as well), but I have long used this blog as a journal that I keep for my child. I don't want a bunch of nastiness here. It's important to me to document this for him. Thank you.
My dearest Jack,
Today we went to a political rally with Hillary Clinton for Barack Obama. There were a million reasons not to go, but my heart said this was our chance to touch this piece of history together.
I am not sure how much of this you will ever remember, but as we stood together in that hot crowded room, waiting for over an hour to see her speak while older women started to faint all around us, I dreamed for you.
I dreamed for you with a thousand other people of a better world.
A world without endless wars. A world where folks don't have to choose between medicine or dinner. A world where schools are able to have both art and music AND math and science. A world where St Louis County will not have had 5700 families lose their homes in the last year (there have been 3 on our street alone, and we don't live in any kind of fancy new homes, that much is certain). A world where there are fewer guns in the hands of criminals. A world where there is less of an angry panic about the uncertainty around us.
A world where there is both hope and change.
The election tomorrow will be monumental for sure. We talked about what it means to be the President, we talked about why we vote, we talked about why those other cars had the same stickers as you saw on the signs, and the same sticker that you see on our car.
But words cannot convey what it really means to you at the tender age of 4.
When you were born your father and I felt very strongly about you having a "presidential" name. A name that conveys strength and courage, a name that could carry you to the white house.
Barack Hussein Obama certainly blows my presidential name theory all to hell, but he is the embodiment of that little dream I had when you were born, that everyone in this great country really does have the opportunity to be whatever they can dream of, including President. A black man in the running for the highest office in our country, 44 years after the Civil Rights Act was passed. Times really are changing.
And so, Jackson Samuel, as we go to the polls tomorrow to cast our vote for the 44th President of the United States, with the memory of your little hands clapping together and your little voice cheering for Hillary, I hope that the world is about the change again. Everyone is watching.
And I hope that you will forever carry a little memory of the rally you attended with your mama. Your first political event at the age of 4. A peek into the importance of not being afraid, of putting yourself out there. And believing, like Hillary said, that America is a country with a great destiny.
"It's time to move from what we can do, to what we must do, to what we will do."
All my love,
Edited to add: Obviously I wrote this yesterday after we attended the rally. As I sat down to watch the evening news last night, I happened to catch Jack on the 6 o'clock news. There he is, right in front of Hillary Clinton and on the news! When he saw the video of himself he said, "I was rising up out of the pumpkin patch!" You can see me picking him up to take the photos above in the video clip here in the first 2 minutes of the tape.
Labels: Making History