Dear senator President Obama,
I’m scared.
I grew up during the Cold War and was in fear during those times as well. But that was different. Back then, I was scared our leaders would be so stupid as to bite off their nose to spite their face or, rather, that they would annihilate the world to spite a different economic ideology. I breathed a sigh of relief when the Cold War ended, knowing that there may very well be a tomorrow when, for so many years, our tomorrows were being held hostage.
I want to breathe that sigh of relief now, but when I try to exhale it seems that every today brings more devastating news than yesterday. With the economy collapsing, a senseless war continuing, unprecedented deficits and financial fears, a lack of intelligent leadership and a foreign policy that resembles the kindergarten bully who simply doesn’t realize that nobody likes him anymore, we are in a state of panic and turmoil. I have no reaction but to gasp in fear.
And then along comes you.
In the past year you have brought hope to a nation that has been desperate to grasp on to a new reality. You have inspired those whose will has lain dormant. You have motivated millions to listen, to care, to act. In a time that breeds isolation you have united. In an era of darkness, you have shed a glimmer of light. You are hope.
And that is why I am scared.
For hope is a fleeting feeling. Like the cool, comfort of sand in your cradling hands, it soon sifts away if not given substance and form. I fear that our hope, that hope which is built on the infrastructure of our dreams and the framework of your promises, will collapse in a shambles if not supported quickly and effectively.
To prolong hope, one requires change and progress. For decades, we have been made promises by Washington. Great promises, inspiring promises – but promises that have, nonetheless, fallen flat and unfulfilled. We have become numb to the political rhetoric that defines a presidential campaign, knowing full well that the words are empty, that no change will come. We are angered by the bipartisan game of chess, where winning has become more important than improvement and advancement. We are disillusioned with Washington.
I am investing my future in you. In hope. In hope that my life will continue to get better. In hope that you will continue to inspire. In hope that you will create change. In hope that you will be the President that will not let us down; that you will not have us sitting around our dinner tables years hence reminiscing about the time when we once had hope.
I believe, Senator Obama. I believe in the power of the American people and I believe in you. I believe we can change. I believe we are headed down a new road where prosperity, stability, sincerity and worldliness once again define our being. I believe that hope can transform to progress. But I’m scared it won’t.
Getting elected is not the finish line, it is the starting gun.
Please, don’t let us down.
Your hope-filled supporter,
J.
athlete, entrepreneur, human
November 01, 2008
Hope: A Letter
Posted by j. at 10:39 AM
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2 comments:
We should end all correspondence with the inclusion of "human." As in "Your friend and fellow human," or "With thanks from your fellow human."
Reminds of what's truly important.
My hope is that someday the idea of me getting married doesn't weird so many people out that they feel compelled to outlaw it.
That was amazing. I have a blog started that I saved and never finished because I was having trouble getting the right words. Thanks for expressing what I couldn't.
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