Dear Barack Obama,
Wow. I don't even know where to start. You're no longer president-elect, but President. Wow times infinity. This is beyond anything I've ever experienced before. I volunteered at the Campaign for Change, you know. Me and my best friend. We walked around in the cold and knocked on doors. We got praises and 'keep up the good works', plus we got doors slammed in our faces and dogs set on us, but it was okay. It really was. Because I believed in you. Because I liked the way I felt after listening to you speak. Cuz I felt like I knew you, and you knew me. Because I felt like you cared about me. And I was too scared to believe that you could win. But you did, and I cried and cried and cried. I was so proud, you don't even understand. It was our victory.
And today it was made official.
B.Boy, do right by us, please. I'm counting on you. I'm seventeen years young, and sometimes I'm scared to grow up because the world's retarded. But you give me hope. You show me that my dreams can come true. That in the great story that is America, I can have a chapter. If I want it. If I work for it. And I will.
You make me want to be better. So thank you. It means a lot.
I've got your back Mr. President, and I want to help you fix America.
Because together, we can do anything.

Love,
J.

Freeing our Minds

At first I wasn't sure I wanted to write about the election, but I've (obviously) changed my mind.

Why should I censor myself? Did I not take an oath to write faithfully and above all honestly?

Today my fellow bloggers and blog-readers, is November Fifth. And yesterday we made history.

All men are created equal has become a fact today, not just a sweet melody sung on a bad day.

Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation freed us from the shackles around our wrists that bound us to this land, and yesterday when America declared Barack Obama the President-Elect, our souls were freed from the oppression of our own low morale and the weight of even lower expectations.

Today we are in body and spirit and mind free.

I watched him on TV breath held in nervous anticipation, barely daring to believe him when he said: Yes we can.

And last night as I listened to him speak, same as I have over the last few months, I looked at his face with reverence, disbelief, humility, and awe and answered:
You were right.

Yes we did.

I have a dream part 2

oh em gee.
This blog-a-day thing is actually kinda hard!
After a long hard day of campaigning by Barack Obama's side (hahaa. Seriously, I freakin wish.), I mean making phone calls and being hung up on, I am exhausted!
Not to mention the fifty billion math problems I have to do before tomorrow.
Slight exaggeration.
But tomorrow is election day and I'm excited and nervous and slightly nauseous.
I am suffering from Post-traumatic election anxiety disorder.
Google it, I did not make that up, I swear.
You would think I was running for president. My palms are constantly sweaty, my stomachs churning, I haven't eaten for days...
I kid, I kid.
But seriously.
Years from today this entry will be a documentation of a historical event.
A moment in time captured by yours truly.
(Please edit!)
But tomorrow will be the day America really proves herself to me.
Show me your true colors.
Literally.
I can't help but wonder: Tomorrow night at this time, will our president be black?
Or, more accurately, can our president be black?
I've noticed that people are afraid of change. Weather it's good or bad.
So tonight as America holds her breath I pray silently:
Do not let us down.
For too long the American Dream has seem so illusive and suddenly, there it is, withing reach.
America, grab on and hold on for dear life.
Can we do it?
Yes.
We most certainly can.
Will we do it?
Only time will tell.

The Myth that is the American Dream.

We the People,

Stop right there and tell me who are we?

Not the natives, not the blacks, not him or her or me,

Tell me. Did you mean you as in the Anglo-Saxon man?

That came across the sea and stole another persons land?

Leaving them with the carcass of the lives they had once led,

And the ghost of a land with dirt now stained bright red,

With the blood of a people tainting your hands and souls,

In the dark deep abyss of your closetful of sins,

You ask for forgiveness; but where should we begin?

With the Africans you ripped from the womb of their home,

With the families you tore apart and sold, leaving each alone,

What of the Negro man you flayed and the poor slave girl you raped,

You ask for forgiveness but you turned love to hate.

Always cite your sources, wash your hands of blame,

With quotes from Holy Scripture to clear your dirty name,

Freedom was the aim and the devil asked his price,

No refunds, no returns, but was the price too high?

You paid in full and got everything you asked for,

But you can’t turn back now; he comes a-knocking on your door,

You’ve sold your souls for freedom; you can’t get it back no more,

Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,

But pretty words cannot make up for a nation’s ignorance,

You say the end justifies the means at the end of the day,

But is this the end? Are we really on our way?

To the America they promised us, the one where dreams come true,

The America where We the People means him and her and you,

Where the American Dream isn’t some timeless tale, some urban legend, unproven myth

That an old woman holds to her breast at night and takes solace and comfort in,

Because it’s all that keeps her going, faith in this Old U S of A,

And the hopes that tomorrow will bring a brighter, better day.