Dear Veronica,
Someday you’ll read this and I hope that when you do, my words will make no sense at all. I hope that you actually throw your head back in such laughter that I even got emotionally invested in this moment because in the time that you absorb my words, that period will have come to pass a mentality of such openness and progression, this letter is filed archaic.
You’re only an image in my mind, a daughter who I hope to meet in the future. I think of you often in when I am working for a better place or even making a lousy choice. In either instance, I wonder how my actions will affect you.
Today is November 4, 2008 and these hours rest on the anxious ballots across the United States as we elect a new leader of our nation. You’ll read in history books that all sorts of records were broken – even now, before I know who has won the general election – so much has transpired that has changed the face of this nation and so much is still going to change in the years before you and I officially meet.
You come from a family who supports two parties – Republicans and Democrats – which is why Sunday dinners always last too long with your cousins and Titas and Titos. We have much to discuss.
It’s important to me for you to know why this day is so important. For eight years, I’ve been changing my mind. I’ve been looking for the best and ideal political environment and I now realize that not only is that never going to happen, but that’s not what I should be living for. It’s not the end result of perfection or the ideal outcome I’m looking for, what matters most is what I did in these years to make this place better for you.
I want you to know that I voted today. I voted for a presidential candidate for my third election and I voted Democrat. I’ve voted Republican before, even identified as such. Voting Democratic, however, is not as significant as the lessons I’ve learned about laws, infrastructure and the reality of how the system works in this country and around the world. If you are my daughter, most likely, you will be a daughter of privilege. You will be a person of education, services, healthcare, and choices. With these options, you must apply yourself and learn for yourself how this world will work for those around you. Learning for myself of how this world works changed the way I live, the way I vote, the way I love.
This day, I witnessed an excitement in every kind of person imaginable. I witnessed a respect between folks of difference, across race and party lines. It was the first day of a political event that I felt a part of, not a spectator. Of every ethnicity, religion, ability, I saw people working the voting booths. Pregnant women, men in business suits, the elderly in wheelchairs, families with strollers – nearly everyone showed up today.
And so, my dear, you continue to remain a dream for me. A bright dream which keeps me walking and serving those around me, hoping someday, that you will do the same. And you will tell me funny stories of the people you met on election day. I will tell you the day I worked for the first black president of the Unites States of America and by then you will wonder what the hell the big damn deal was in 2008.
Your father and I bought a bottle of champagne and splurged on a package of gourmet cheese. Your father loves George Stephanopoulos and I love anyone but the Fox anchors. We hope that is one of those nights we’ll remember the rest of our lives and bore you to tears about what we witnessed and lived through.
Love,
Mom
This is a beautiful letter.
Hey there!
Thank you for this beautiful letter!!
Today is the day….
BARACK HUSSEIN OBAMA
44th President of the United States
Ohio has gone to Obama!! That is the key state that determines the winner of the race!
{raised black fist}
This whole election, I’ve been waiting to come alive, to feel the energy that I see and hear all around me, in friends and family and coworkers. I’ve felt nothing but drained since before the primaries. It was a long wait, but when I woke up this morning – it was there! I felt a real connection to every person in line at my polling place and at other polling places around my city. I hope your daughter won’t find this letter dated; I hope that the excitement of feeling part of – not a country, necessarily, but a process – is here to stay.