And that’s really what today is about: Don’t forget….If you are hurting, know this: You are not forgotten. You are not alone. You are never alone. We are here for you. America is here for you—all of us. And we will not stop doing everything in our power to get you the care and support you need to stay strong and keep serving this country we love. We need you. We need you. You make our country better.
So I thank all of you. God bless our troops, our veterans, our military families. God bless the United States of America.
* * *
—
“I was sitting on campus, I remember, by myself. I was streaming the video. And it was more towards the end of the remarks. They had asked my permission. I agreed, if they omitted my identification. I didn’t know how my letter was going to be interpreted or if it was going to be misconstrued in some way. I just had all these thoughts racing through my mind. And then I heard it, and I started crying because he said that it was one of the hardest letters that he’s had to read.
“We have this idea that the president is so much larger than us and that he’s this other type of person. But he’s exactly like we are.
“And so for him to read my letter and for me to see his reaction—that he was able to use it on a platform to help other people, that was powerful for me.
“My mom said that when my dad was watching the remarks, he cried. And he kept repeating that he was sorry.”
* * *
—
Lacey hadn’t heard the speech, so she didn’t know why her BlackBerry was buzzing the way it was—emails from coworkers using exclamation points. People knew how important Ashley’s letter was to Lacey. It was the first of many Red Dots to make it to the president’s desk, and here was the president talking about it as he signed a bill into law. Lacey read Obama’s remarks. She was so easily moved to tears; that part of her had not changed. Maybe this was as good as it gets for a letter, she thought. A person suffering, making a call for action, and the president hearing—and acting.
She would later decide to pursue a career helping veterans.
* * *
—
Months passed, and still Ashley had not talked to her father. She needed distance. She buried herself in schoolwork, began to feel strong for taking charge of her life.
“And then in May, I was intending on taking summer classes, so I was living on campus. I was getting ready for work, and I got the call around six A.M. And it was from our neighbor. And it was from my mom’s phone, which I thought was odd. So I knew immediately something was wrong. He said, ‘You have to come to Greenville. There’s been an accident.’
“When I got to the ICU, they had someone come talk to me. And they were like, ‘We’re doing everything we can.’ I asked all the questions I could. I’m the type of person that likes to know everything as soon as possible, and I like to have control of situations. And my dad was the exact same way. And so this, for me, was torture, because I didn’t have control of anything. And they said they were doing everything they could do but that they didn’t know. That’s what they kept telling us—that they didn’t know if he would make it. They didn’t know if he would be normal if he did make it. They didn’t know.
“He was in the first room on the left. And as I entered the double doors, I saw him. But it wasn’t him. It was a completely different thing. It wasn’t a person. I collapsed. I started yelling, ‘No!’ Just like I did when he was shooting. And I just kept yelling no. And they said that the main problem was that when my dad was on the motorcycle, he hit, um, an SUV at an intersection going fifty miles per hour. And when he inhaled, he inhaled all of the fumes. So that was burning his lungs. And they said you can’t fix that. They said that there wasn’t anything that anyone could do to fix that.
“They said, ‘No, ma’am, we can’t save him. You have to tell us what you want us to do.’
“I went through denial that it wasn’t happening, that he was deployed and that he was coming back. Just like he was when I was little. That if I waited long enough, he would come back.”
Ms. Alisa Bowman
Submitted via whitehouse.gov
6/27/2015 2:33 PM
Dear President Obama,
I’ve been voting Democrat since age 18, and I voted for you three times (including in the primary against Clinton). Throughout your Presidency, I’ve rooted for you and cheered for you and celebrated you. But last week, when you said “Shame on you” to Jennicet Gutierrez, I felt chilled and disappointed. You are a living example of civil rights progress. I’ve always seen you as someone who gets the plight of marginalized and discriminated against people. In that moment, I realized that I was wrong. You don’t seem to get it. Jennicet was not heckling you. She was merely trying to get your attention—on an important issue that affects a nearly invisible class of people. I understand she may have done it in a rude way, but you are in a position of great power and she is in a position of being marginalized. You’ve so many times demonstrated your ability to be the big person—the mature person, the right person, the intelligent person. In this case, you stumbled, and I forgive you for it. But please, make it right. I am not trans, but I am raising a transgender child. This world terrifies me—how it brutalizes, openly discriminates against, and shames trans people. Gay marriage was a big step, but only one step. You are in a position to take many more steps before your last day in office. Please invite Jennicet to the White House and hear her out. Please look into the injustices happening to trans women—especially trans women of color. Please ask the attorney general to do the same. Please listen to their voices rather than shaming them. That is all I ask.
THE WHITE HOUSE
WASHINGTON
Alisa—
Thanks for the letter, and the support.
I’ve got to disagree with you on my handling of the heckler awhile back. This wasn’t a public event; she had been invited. We fully support the trans community agenda, which is why they were so well represented at the event. Rather than start shouting, all she needed to do was talk to the numerous White House staff who were there and already working with the LGBT community on a wide range of issues.
So…there’s a need sometimes to shout to be heard. I’m an old community organizer, and have organized disruptive actions myself.
That wasn’t the time.
But I really appreciate your thoughtfulness and compassion.
Barack Obama
President Barak Obama
The White House
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW
Washington, DC 20500
Dear Mr. President:
I am writing to tell you how my heart went out to you the other day when you announced that you have to make too many announcements about violent episodes in this country. At that moment, I felt a deep kinship with you, albeit a rather sad one. You see I am the pastor of a small church in Newbern, Virginia. Each time one of these horrors occurs I know that on Sunday morning my little flock will be expecting their pastor to have something meaningful to say to them—something that will help them make some semblance of sense out of it all and offer them some comfort and hope. Frankly, Mr. President, I have grown bone weary at this repeated responsibility and I have only twenty souls in my care. Your congregation is so much larger.
I hope it is helpful to you to know there is a pastor in southwestern Virginia who understands something of what you are going through and is keeping you in her prayers.
Shalom, Mr. President,
Rev. Christine G. Reisman,
Newbern Christian Church
Christiansburg, VA
July 1, 2015
President Barack Obama
The White House
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW
Washington, DC 20500
Dear Mr. President,
As we approach Independence Day, and after I heard you sing Amazing Grace at my fellow Pastor’s funeral, I wanted to share with you my story.
I grew up in a white, military, Christian, right wing family. I have always towed the republican line. I have never voted for a democrat in my life. I worked against your election and reelection, not that the republican candidates were so great, I just knew that democrats were “bad for America”. But inside I was facing a struggle, a struggle I’d been dealing with since I was 6 years old.
I grew up, married a wonderful woman, helped create two awesome kids and have lived my life as a conservative Baptist minister. In December, my struggle nearly brought me to the point of ending my life and on December 7, 2014, I finally admitted to myself that I was gay AND that God made me that way. I shared this with my wife and it has been rough these 6 months. I am also looking for another job as this information would be grounds for dismissal in my church if it were discovered.
I write all this to tell you, thank you for being my President. After December 7th my outward perspective reflected the man within and your presidency changed in my eyes. You have done a remarkable job in spite of incredible opposition. From health care, immigration, marriage equality to normalization of relations with Cuba, your presidency will go down as historic. You have brought social justice to so many.
I see our flag in a new light now. To me it always stood for American power in the world, but today for me it stands for liberty and equality for everyone, no more second class citizens.
Thank you for being the first President of ALL the people. I am so proud of you, Mr. President. You have been so good for America and in fulfilling the vision for a truly free republic for everyone.
From the depths of my heart, thank you, Sir.
Cordially,
Reinventing ReEntry
Scottsdale, AZ
Sue Ellen Allen, Founder
May 11, 2015
President Barack Obama
The White House
1600 Pennsylvania Ave
NW Washington, DC 20500
Dear President Obama:
You get a lot of mail. I hope this reaches your file, particularly in the light of the deep-seated rage that is exploding in our country. I’m sad, I’m privileged, and I care.
10 reasons why I’m privileged
White
College educated
Mother & Father who believed in me.
Taught in very underprivileged schools.
Worked in corporate America.
Served time in prison late in life with advanced breast cancer. Found my life purpose there.
Upon release six years ago, co-founded a 501(c)3 organization to bring educational programs into women’s prison. Our success rate is an unprecedented 6%.
After AHA moment, founded a new nonprofit with a mission to educate and reshape society’s perception of former inmates because Nothing will change unless the perception changes.
Am a Tigger in an Eyore world. I never give up.
Am aware that I’m privileged.
3 reasons why I’m not privileged
I’m old. Definitely a woman of a certain age.
I’m poor. I don’t look or feel poor but legally I live below the official poverty line.
I’m a felon. I will have a prison number forever.
You know the recidivism rate. Imagine if Mayo Clinic or Apple with their budgets had a business plan with a 60% failure rate (through death or product returns). That business plan would be unacceptable. So why is our prison business plan with a 60% failure rate acceptable in our country?
School failures; dropout rates; marginalized, disenfranchised. Add that to the complete distrust of our police force. We have a problem. Remember, I’m privileged. I was taught to believe the police were my friends, lawyers never lied, and judges were fair and honest. I was wrong.
If you had told me what I would see and experience in prison, I would have said, “Not in our country. We don’t treat people that way.” I was wrong. Seven years in prison for securities fraud gave me my life purpose. The treatment inside is draconian; the preparation for re-entry is laughable.
Now that I’m out and have created two useful organizations, the judgement and treatment continue in myriad humiliating ways (like a decent place to live for starters). Remember, I’m privileged. How much harder is it for a poor Black or Latino man or woman?
How about a task force? Not one full of law enforcement, prison officials and academics. Consider former inmates who have from 5 to 30 years experience inside, mothers willing to chase their sons down the street during a riot, people sent down because they are mentally ill, women and men who are making a difference because of and despite their records. Real prison experts at the table. There are many of us who would be honored to serve. Then add some of the “officials.”
The primary reason for this letter is to once again encourage you to visit a prison, not a sanitized Presidential visit (OK, that might not be possible), but a real one, talking to inmates and seeing their cells, eating real prison food. This would be a powerful message to the 2.3 million incarcerated Americans. Most attorneys and judges have never been inside a prison except in the sanitized visitation room. No president has ever visited. You have no idea of the horror inside.
President Obama, you are my president. I admire your approach, your intellectual style, your dignity and your sense of humor. Believe it or not, I’ve only been disappointed about your approach to racism. I think you should be tougher. The conservatives won’t like it, but they don’t like anything you do so why worry? The progressives would love it and there are a lot of us just waiting for this part of your leadership. This task force of former felons would be a great start, especially if someone listens. Currently, we are invisible and voiceless. Please see us and be our voice.
Sincerely,
Sue Ellen Allen
Founder
PS: I know your staff seems to chose letters for your folder that are handwritten but I wrote with a golf pencil for a long time and swore I’d never do that again.
From: Yolanda
Submitted: 10/16/2015 4:08 AM EDT
Dear Mr. President and First Lady Obama,
This is Yolanda — and it is with a grateful heart that I write this letter to you. I wrote previously a couple of years ago, telling you about my status as a veteran who is disabled and was living out of my car and constantly having nightmares from sexual trauma that occurred while I was in the Navy. You and your cabinet made a national declaration to all states to work on ending homelessness. I let you know about my silent prayer of wanting to be a productive member of society, able to live, pay rent, and contribute. I did not want to die on the side of the road like a piece of trash.
It is with grateful tears that I am able to tell you that today, I signed a lease to Veterans Village —— for a 1 bedroom apartment. I am able to pay for it with my OWN money. The application process was rigorous and I was fearful that I would not be able to obtain one as there were 2000 other applicants whom I am sure had more money than me. It was my last hope. I had no other game plan left, I thought my car would be my grave.
Today, I cried tears of joys. I was so proud to be able to give them the money order for rent. It made me feel good that I have a budget and that I am making a productive move. It is all thanks to you, your administration, your staff, and your followers. I am not a number, I am not a piece of dirt that people spit on, I am not forgotten, and I am not unworthy of anything.
God bless you Mr. President and First Lady. I wish I could give you a hug or shake your hand. Something to express these tears of joy that will not stop flowing. I am literally 10 minutes away from my ch
urch where I do a lot of volunteer work with the youth and young adults. I am living!!! I am being productive!!!! I NOW have a place to live, a place I can call HOME. How can I express this gratitude that keeps me smiling and my eyes glistening? I Love you and all that work with you!!! Please communicate with them, that I do not take this lightly, I will live up to this graceful gift that has been given to me. THANK YOU!!!! I will make a photobook of my apartment and send it to you so that you can see what all your work as the President and First Lady has done. I will tell all who will listen. I pray God blesses you, your family, your administration, your staff and all whom honor is due.
Sincerely, Yolanda
From: Mary Susan Sanders
Submitted: 6/27/2015 12:02 PM EDT
Address: Kansas City, Missouri
Mr. President, I was deeply touched by your Eulogy in Charleston. After wiping the tears from my face, I got my paint brush and paint and went to the lawn jockey on my deck. It represented my heritage: a white, privileged woman from Nashville, Tennessee. I had great uncles who fought for the Confederacy during the Civil War. Now I live in Kansas City. I always told myself this black lawn jockey, like the Conferate flag, was a relic of history. But your words: “that Confederate flag represents more than one history”, finally resonated. I began to cry. With all the pain in that Church, with all those families grieving, I made a decision. I went to that lawn jockey and painted him Caucasian. I never want to be the cause, directly or indirectly, to anyone’s suffering. Thank you, Mr. President. I believe you are one of the Greatest Presidents our USA has ever had.
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