To Obama
Page 27
From: Ms. Nicole Davis
Submitted: 11/9/2016 12:37 AM EST
Address: Tobyhanna, Pennsylvania
Hello President Obama, thank you for all you’ve done for our country. During your terms you’ve made me feel safe, and safe to raise my daughter. Now I am entering a stage where I am terrified to survive with Trump. I am a disabled individual as I have seizures. Trumps comments about those who are disabled have turned individuals against those like me. I am afraid he will hurt individuals like myself, is this a rationalized fear? I’m just afraid and would appreciate any type of reassurance he can not hurt me for my sickness. Thank you so much.
Submitted: 11/9/2016 12:01 AM EST
Mr. President,
First and foremost, thank you for all you’ve done. I am so proud to call you my president. I have such a tremendous amount of respect for you as a husband and a father. As I’m watching election results, I’m literally in tears. My wife is undocumented. I have three children. I have never been so scared in my life. I know there is very little you can do now for immigration reform, but thank you so much for trying. We’ve been working on adjusting her status, but I do not know what will happen now. There is now a very good chance I’ll be separated from my family and that is terrifying to me. I know you’ve done all you can do and I thank you for that. I have been so proud of you over the last 8 years and I wish you the best for the future.
Sincerely,
Submitted: 11/9/2016 2:17 PM EST
Address: Santiago de los Caballeros
Dear President Obama,
My name is —. I am not from the United States and do not live there.
I know that there is a big chance that you will not read this letter, but there are some things that I would like you to know.
Growing up as a gay man in a country where everything about being homosexual is wrong and embarrassing is hard. Death threats from parents, bullying at school, or just simple “Gay jokes” that make someone of our sexual orientation or with an open mind feel bad.
You gave me hope, reading about everything you did for our people in your country made me realize that, maybe, the world is not as bad as it seems, maybe there is more than being scared and hiding all the time. You inspired me to move on, to be better and to be the change that I want to see in the world, hoping that one day I would live in the United States so that I could have a normal life.
It is heartbreaking knowing that your presidency is coming to an end, and that the LGBT community will suffer a huge impact,
Thank you, Mr. President for 8 years of hope, for helping me growing up and for a doing a great job, not only for America, but for the rest of the world too,
Submitted: 11/9/2016 9:13 AM EST
Dear Mr. President,
I woke up this morning in a state of disbelief. Partly because I only slept 4 hours after drinking down a whole bottle of Jagermeister, but mostly because Donald Trump is President Elect.
My family has been in this country a long time. My earliest family came to this country on the Mayflower. They struggled and worked hard for “The American Dream” and the fruits of their labor was shown through their achievements. Most notably would be —, signer of the Articles of Confederation, —, delegate to the Continental Congress and —.
My dreams for what would be a happy and prosperous America are dimmer today. I took a walk this morning to take in the air and just experience the day. I live in — and I heard no birds chirping. Here — — it was raining, very fitting in my opinion, because it feels like the world is crying. I keep in touch with pen pals overseas in the U.K. and they’re all in disbelief as well.
I just find it hard to believe that we can “Make America Great Again” through the path that Trump is providing. The America he speaks of is a divided America. An America that wouldn’t let women and African Americans vote, an America that would have me separated in schools and offices and bathrooms…I feel like I’m playing the ‘Trumped up’ version of a board game and we had to “Go back 5 spaces”.
I never one-hundred percent agreed with everything you said. But I firmly believe that you’re going to go down in history as one of the country’s greatest Presidents. You’ve done so much for civil rights and upholding justice. Keeping Americans as healthy as you could. Honestly, my heart is breaking for you and Michelle and your family. I’m so sorry that for the next four years, you have to watch an angry Oompa Loompa with thin wisps of hair attempt to make America “Go back 5 spaces”.
Wishing you all the best,
—
From: Mrs. Katie Lowden Bahr
Submitted: 11/9/2016 10:20 AM EST
Address: Madison, Wisconsin
Dear Mr. President,
Eight years ago, when you won the presidential election I was elated. I was hopeful. I watched in awe as you took the stage with your wife and daughters. It felt amazing. Four years later, when you won once again, I was relieved. I had welcomed my first daughter two months earlier. A daughter born with a heart defect. A daughter who will forever have a pre-existing condition. Last night I watched in disbelief, as our country elected Donald Trump. I have another daughter now, and I’m sure as the father to two young women yourself, you feel the disgust over Mr. Trumps treatment of women as well.
I’m writing you this morning out of fear. This election was won on fear. Fear of the other, fear of the unknown. Fear of race, sexual orientation, gender, religion. Fear bred of ignorance. And now I too am afraid. I’m afraid of how this will change our country, and the world, in the next four years. You have always given me hope as a leader, and I could use a little of that right about now.
This morning I ask one thing of you; make these next two months count. As much as you possibly can. Secure the next four years for our country. For the American people that don’t even realize what a grave mistake they have made. Do what you can to secure health care, foreign policy, immigration, education, the environment, jobs, and all of the other important issues we all know Mr. Trump is hoping to unravel.
Thank you for the last eight years. You will go down in history as one of the greatest leaders our country has known. Your accomplishments and grace under pressure has been a gift to us all.
Gratefully,
Katie Lowden Bahr
Dec 20, 2016
Dear President Obama,
For five years I was a home health nurse in your old hometown of Chicago. My territory included Rogers Park and South Evanston, one of the most diverse neighborhoods in this wonderful country of ours.
I’ve been in more homes than most people, and I want you to know, that every African American home I entered had a picture of you in it. Usually it was the entire beautiful Obama family. You have meant so much to so many people—your grace, intelligence and integrity will be so missed.
Like so many other people I am horrified and anxious about the results of the election. I hope you continue to speak out and work for the values we hold so dear—the democratic process, and the equality of all people.
You and your family are truly beautiful, and will be so sorely missed. I certainly don’t blame you for wanting to take a break, but this country continues to desperately need you. I hope to continue to see you on the world stage, fighting for good.
Much love,
Tracy LaRock
Evanston, IL
November 20, 2016
Dear President Obama:
In January of 2009, in the absence of ability, time or energy (or all three) to travel to DC for your swearing in, our close-knit group of friends and neighbors decided to throw our own inaugural ball in your honor. We cleared out a living room, dressed to the nines, drank champagne and danced all night. Parents, kids, everyone. Several weeks prior to Christmas, I had been in DC for a visit (I am a DC native) and as
I walked through Union Station, I saw Barack Obama in a gift store and knew I had found the perfect “party favor” for our ball. At the party, we hung the American flag from my father’s funeral on the living room wall (he fought in the South Pacific in WWII), and stood O up in front of it (see small picture in the enclosed; that’s me with you) and party guests “had their picture taken with the President”. My father would have been so proud to be a part of this.
On November 13 this year, we had a post-election potluck. Alas, we had anticipated it being a celebration, but reality intervened. We considered cancelling, but quickly realized that gathering our friends around us was what we, and they, needed even more. We brought O down from the attic, and posted a board for all of us to “teach ‘em how to say goodbye.” (I am obsessed with “Hamilton”.) Enclosed are photos of what we want to say to you.
I believe strongly that we will get through this, and that we will come out better on the other side, but it will be difficult, enraging and in many ways sad. Your influence in our lives and in the lives of our children was incalculable. My daughter is a NC Teaching Fellow, and she is in her third year teaching sixth grade math at a Title 1 school in Durham: she can tell by their behavior when her kids return from a school break who had food in their home during the break and who didn’t. She recently did a successful GoFundMe campaign and raised money to buy new desks for her classroom: the old ones were falling apart right in front of the children. But she and her ridiculously dedicated teaching peers are the future of this country. (And I know she would welcome a presidential visit to her classroom, should you have future spare time…). We will get through this, in part due to the dedication of people like Millie and her fellow teachers.
Thank you for all that you did. Thank you for your kindness. Thank you for sharing your wonderful family with us. Thank you for being the president our children really knew first, and will always hold as the hallmark of what a president should be. I have your first acceptance speech taped to my home office wall, and read it periodically for inspiration. Your hair may be a little grayer now, but you can be sure that those gray hairs were honestly earned. Thank you.
Maureen Dolan Rosen
Chapel Hill NC
(Image of aforementioned board in previous letter)
Dear Mr. President:
“Thanks for what you did for my sons”–Mike Kennedy
Thank you for bringing dignity, class and leadership to the White House We will miss you
Please stay!
“Dance me to the end of love”
I love you, your family, your presidency, your work forever—May
Thanks for bringing Grace & Dignity to the White House!!
You and Michelle are emblems of what a first family should be. I’m so proud our country elected you twice.
4 more years!
Thank you for eight years of letting us know your wonderful family, and of making us proud of our president.
You inspire us all—Thank you!
You will be missed!
Thank you for a presidency that mattered so much to so many of us, and always will.
I’m so very grateful that my teenagers’ view of the Presidency is based in your 8 years. They know what we CAN have and deserve. Thank you for 8 years of integrity and progress.
You and Michelle are the epitome of elegance & made me proud to be an American. Thank you for your dignity, eloquence, intelligence, etc. We’ll miss you!!
BARACK OBAMA
April 26, 2017
Ms. Maureen Dolan Rosen
Chapel Hill, North Carolina
Dear Maureen:
Thank you for the very kind note and for passing along the thoughtful messages from those who attended your potluck. Your optimism is inspiring, and I share your hope for our country’s future.
Remember that the long sweep of America is defined by forward motion. And although it sometimes seems like we take one step back for every two steps forward, I am confident that so long as engaged and passionate citizens like you keep speaking out and working in earnest to defend the values that make us who we are, our progress will continue.
Thanks again for thinking of me. Serving as your President was the greatest honor of my life—it was worth every gray hair! Please tell Millie I’m proud of her service in the classroom. I wish you and your loved ones the very best.
Sincerely,
Barack Obama
December 6, 2016
Jaconita, New Mexico
Dear President Obama,
I heard your speech from Florida today and was comforted. I wondered what you did the day after the election to salve your wounds. I baked an apple-cranberry crumb pie and ate half of it that very day. Two friends of mine went out for a salsa lesson. A neighbor down the road read “Hillbilly Elegy” until first light and then threw herself into putting her garden to bed for the winter. A retired teacher friend in D.C. went to her scheduled piano lesson, stopping on the way home for a bottle of bourbon. (She usually drinks a little port at twilight)
At first I swore off watching the news. Then I decided that if I were going to hell in a handbasket I would need to be prepared. Thus I decided to watch carefully, write down the letters I’m always composing in my head and then post or email when and where needed. I am 84, can look back on 25 years with bright-faced kids in mostly run-down schoolrooms or portables and hope that those kids learned the most important lessons I had to teach: fairness and objective thinking.
Thank you for epitomizing the values a truly just nation espouses. Thank you, Obama family, for providing a model to embrace. History will treat you well, Mr. President. I am grateful for having lived long enough to see your day.
Sincerely yours,
Roberta Fine
Dear Mr. President,
I am writing to you on the morning after the election after a restless night and two hours of sleep. I remember today going very differently eight years ago, when it was announced that you had been elected. I was in my first year at community college, walking through an icy quad in my snow boots with a big, dumb grin on my face, every closed door before me suddenly opening up, like magic. There was so much hope in that moment. It would be another four years before the DACA program would change my life.
I was born in the Philippines to two hardworking, college-educated parents. We lived in Manila, had a house, two cars, a dog I loved more than anything. We’d vacation in Chicago every few years. One of those early trips involved a rare April snow when I was four. One of my first memories was scooping some up in my mitten’d hand and taking it inside, only to watch it melt not two minutes later. It was my first snow. That might have been the moment I fell in love with this place.
When my father was forced into early retirement and unable to find work, my parents spent a year trying to make it on his severance and my mother’s secretary salary. In 2000, they decided to leave everything behind and try to make it here. Though we were petitioned as a family through my maternal grandparents, the broken immigration system and extreme backlogs caused all three of us to become undocumented after overstaying our Visas. What followed were 16 of the hardest years of our lives. Countless lost jobs and missed opportunities, the university I never got to attend, the job offers I had to decline, days of staying indoors with nothing to do but wait and worry, depression and anxiety, the isolation of being friendless by choice (too many questions), losing our health insurance and deciding to go without to save money, the foreclosure of our home, my parents’ eventual divorce. The pain of those years is still so palpable and raw that I doubt I’ll ever be able to let it go.
I was amazed at how fast the transition was for me from “illegal alien” to “real person.” Within 2 months of DACA approval I had a social security number, learned how to drive (properly, at 23), got a license and a part
time job. Within a year I had landed a full time position —— at a firm I still work for today (but never did let go of that weekend job). I started making friends again. I made plans for a future that included furthering my education and skillset ——. I happily paid rent, taxes and bills. I jokingly complained about, but secretly enjoyed, being tired from working seven days a week. I enjoyed the minutiae of my daily life. I was a real person, with the luxury of mundane, real person problems. I did not squander this gift. I have savored every last bit of it.
For the past four years, the road for me had been become quiet and predictable. But today, I am terrified. As an early DACA recipient, who has since renewed twice, everything I have worked for is in jeopardy. I grew up here. This has and always will be my home. But today I woke up feeling like I couldn’t trust anyone, and have barely been able to eat or speak. It’s been very hard to stay positive, but the more I look around, the more I see a community of support building, and with it, there is hope. Struggle has imbued us immigrants (documented or not) with a magic and a fire that cannot be quelled. We are here. Please don’t give up on us.
Before I close this, I want you to know that regardless of what happens, — — — I am grateful for everything the DACA program brought into my life. I would not have the courage, nor the will to go on after this election were it not for the confidence this program, my education and experience has given me. Someday I’ll teach my future child about the value of compassion, sacrifice and hard work in the face of adversity. And who knows, maybe someday she’ll be President.
With great admiration and respect,