Thank You

I remember being in 8th grade when the presidential campaign started and to my surprise, there was a man whose skin looked just like mine. I was in awe that a black man was running for president. I was aware of how everything works out so I was excited to wear Obama apparel, tell folks to go out and vote and watch everything unfold. When I entered 9th grade it was voting time. It was now November and the results came in we had our very first black president, I would be lying if I told you a tear did not fall down my face. I was excited! Not only were we getting our very first African American president but we were getting an extremely educated man who wanted the best for the American people.

Fast-forward to 4 years later, I was excited to register to vote. I went to our library where they had representatives to sign up seniors who were 18 or turning 18 before elections. So when it came the time, I was a freshman in college and it was time to vote, who would have thought my first time voting was going to make the history books. I sent in my absentee ballot (I was not letting anything stop me from voting) and I waited for the results. President Obama was elected for his second term, I had another moment of joy! I was going to be able to see this man try and have America prosper for another 4 years. Even though this was an exciting moment it was still bittersweet because I knew this would be his last term.

We are now at that point in time where everything reminds me that come January he will no longer be our president. In my mind and heart, he will forever be my President.

I just want to say thanks.

Thank you, President Obama, for being the man you were in office. For being someone not only African American males could look up to but African American women also. Thanks for giving me hope and knowing that I can be anything I want to be. Allowing me to live in a world where I could trust the President of the United States. For being funny and outgoing, basically being the best you can be and having fun doing the hardest job out here. For making the white house open to everyone, allowing it to feel like our home. Thank you for actually relating to us, the people and not letting the title of ‘President’ get to your head.

Thank you to first lady Michelle Obama. Thank you for being like, well a second mother figure to us, especially African Americans. You are the only first lady that actually looks like my mom, aunts, sister, and myself. I had the privilege of seeing you help an organization that was near and dear to my heart, military families. Thank you for bringing awareness to the loved ones of our armed services. Can I also say thanks for having the best style, in regards to hair and outfits? You showed the world what a strong African American woman looks like and that we do not have to be shameful of the color of our skin.

Thank you, Sasha and Malia, for being kids. Not being in the headlines for doing something outrageous. For allowing us to see you two grow into beautiful young ladies with a great head on your shoulders.

So just like I did when you were elected into office, as you take your final day as our president I will probably (along with a lot of others) cry. These tears will be both sadness but happiness. Sadness because one of the coolest most relatable presidents will be leaving office, being replaced by well someone who makes us nervous. And happiness because I got to see you take office along with vote you back into office for your second term. I got to feel comfortable with you in office, knowing that everything you did was not to hurt us, the people of America. Boy, will I miss your smoothness when it comes to everything.

Thank you, President Obama, Michelle, Sasha, and Malia.

A young African American woman who had the privilege of seeing extraordinary in the white house!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s