The One

It was the summer of 2004 when I was introduced to him. I don’t remember what I was wearing or even what I was doing. And it wasn’t love at first sight. In fact, I was more than a little skeptical. He seemed too good to be true: Handsome, smart, personable, down to earth, and confident without being arrogant. “Is this guy real?” I asked. It was too soon to tell. So I watched him, this stranger to me, navigate and transform the space, the very air around him. I was intrigued, hooked. I needed to know more, so I felt him out, did my research. I read everything he wrote, listened to each and every speech he gave, searched for pictures of him and his family. In a word, I cyber-stalked him. Everything seemed fine, better than fine—he was, dare I say, close to political perfection in a human kind of way. But I was hesitant, afraid of getting hurt again, of being disappointed again. However, the more I learned about him, the more dirt I tried to find to discredit him, the surer I became that he was the ONE, the one that I had been waiting for all of my grown up life. I was quietly optimistic. But how do I know, you ask? How do I know that he is what he seems to be? Is anyone really who they seem to be? I don’t know, but I am assured everyday by his candor, his life and professional experience, his intelligence and credentials, his vision, and, most importantly, his fearlessness that he is the one, a leader for a new generation, a force to be reckoned with.

Before I can give my time, energy, or heart to any man, I need to feel like he will tell me the truth about himself, even if it’s ugly. Barack Obama told me and the world the truth about himself in Dreams of My Father. When I heard the Illinois state senator and candidate for the U.S. senate give the most compelling speech in recent history at the democratic convention in 2004, I didn’t know anything about him. I heard he wrote an autobiography at the behest of a publisher after being elected the editor of the Harvard Law Review, a post that had never been held by an African American before. I was curious. I read the book and was struck by the honesty with which he told his life story up until the point of publication. Obama told the truth about himself. He disclosed his angst and confusion about being bi-racial, his anger at racism and social apathy, his recreational use of alcohol and drugs, his apathy toward his father, his search for meaning and god. He told the reader his story, and not the sugar coated version, and I respected him for it, even if it now becomes media fodder.

So the truth is a wonderful, powerful thing, and Barack Obama told the truth of who he was and from whence he came. His life story, which is hardly over, is one that compels homage. Here is a man who grew up in an environment where very few people looked like him or knew how to teach him the intricacies of existing as a person of color in America. And while he struggled to find his way and an identity, he did so. Here is a man who had no pedigree to speak of, in a country where donations buy entrance into prep and law schools and politics. There was no silver spoon in his hand, no trust fund to finance his education or gap year. Yet, he excelled. And while he could have had a career in law or corporate America, he chose to work tirelessly at the grassroots level in the south side of Chicago to improve the living conditions, educational and economic opportunities and future prospects of its citizens. That past work in community organization and action inspires my reverence for Obama. The fact that he lived among the people, saw the needs, and worked to change their lot in life inspires my reverence for him. He did not spend his entire adult life grooming a political career; however, he knew that there was only so much change he could accomplish from outside of the system. He knew that good intentions and vision would not only not be enough to change the south side, it certainly would not be enough to change the world. Obama furthered his education to be able to better position himself to bring about the change he wanted to see. I hold such dedication to change in high esteem.

While his humble beginnings and intellect continue to move me, his innate hopefulness, sense of what is right, and willingness to sacrifice astound me. Obama constantly demonstrates his belief in the humanity of all people—even those unlike him, even those who hate him, even those who seem to not see the humanity in themselves. Part of his platform is to use diplomacy first, despite diplomacy’s unpopularity in the last decade. He harkens back to the days of walking softly and carrying a big stick, instead of the contemporary mindset of trodding heavily and shooting enormous guns. He stands up for what he believes in and is willing to tell hard truths at risk to himself. He did not bow down to extremist responses to the terrorist attacks of September 11th. He saw early, when people were afraid to appear unpatriotic, that invading Iraq was not only not in the best interest of national security, but probably a long term quagmire with dire consequences for U.S interests. He believes in and advocates diplomacy and building relationships, not responding unilaterally to countries who do not share our values or beliefs. He spoke about the racial divide and misunderstanding that still runs deep throughout the country at a time when people want to believe that “black people should just get over it.” He refuses to pander to the masses by attempting to sell them policies that sound good, but are merely sound bites and not helpful like summer gas tax holidays or mandatory health care plans. He sacrificed friendships and affiliations with people who had positions the general white public could not fathom and did not understand because in their history America has always been the beautiful. But he told them what they did not want to hear or admit anyway. I adore that about him.

Finally, Obama may not be fearless, but he must certainly be respected for his bravery. Even though we are in living in the 21st century of our lord and almost 150 years after the end of slavery, he risks his life by running for the office of the presidency and being seriously considered by the people in this country and abroad. His legitimacy and success make him a target. But he perseveres anyway, and for that, I admire him. He is like a fireman who runs into a burning building to save an occupant at little thought to the risk to himself. He is running to the office of the presidency to save the people from policies that are good for corporations but not the people who work in them. He is running into the office of the presidency to save the court from justices that would turn back 50 years of progress. Obama is running for the presidency to save the office of the presidency from itself, and for that too, I admire him.

So…I revere him. I respect him. I admire him. And while I am in awe of him, I don’t expect everyone or anyone else to share my opinions. I respect the right of each person to lay out his or her own parameters and yard sticks and platform issues by which to measure a political candidate. I did my research, my homework, my own thorough investigations of the men and women running for the highest public office in the land. So while I, and others like me, are dismissed and called naïve dreamers for supporting a long shot, we know that we know a secret: dreamers and idealists are the people who brought about all of the positive changes this country has seen.