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The following are posts written by Delaware Liberal contributors reflecting on the Presidency of Barack Obama. Please feel free to add your thoughts about the last eight years and Obama as well.

jason330

The Obama family had too much class for this shitty mean-spirited country.  The Obamas and Bidens, they are of another time. When your one big problem with a man is that he has too much dignity, too much goodness in him…is that an indictment of the man or of yourself?

That I didn’t like Obama for much of his term was clearly a fault in my wiring, not his.  I said that he wasn’t a fighter.  I think I spent the Bush years getting too angry and allowing myself to be dragged down into the angry, petty shithole that Republicans imagine America to be.  Barrack Obama had a different perspective.  He saw how far we’d come as a country over the past 60 years, so he knew (knows?) how much farther we can still go.  He fought every day for a vision of a dignified America that Republicans seem to hate so much.

On this, his last day, I see that now.  The way out is up.  I hope America recovers from the madness that currently grips it.  If it does it has the example of Barack Obama thank.

El Somnambulo

The date was January 30, 2008.  Michelle Obama spoke before a packed house at the Grand Opera House.  I had been vaguely an Obama supporter, but up until then, I had been disappointed in his campaign. Then Michelle came to Delaware:

https://www.c-span.org/video/?203879-1/michelle-obama-speech-wilmington-de

Michelle starts about 10 minutes in.  It is every bit as inspiring now as it was then.

After she was done, nobody really wanted to leave the Grand.  I bumped into one of my kids’ teachers from school. She told me that it would only get better–that Barack was coming the next week. I said something like ‘To Delaware? No way’.  Little did I know that Lear Pfeiffer, elementary school teacher, was the mother of Dan Pfeiffer, who went on to have a huge role in the election and administration of Barack Obama. She knew.

And so it was that on a gorgeous Feb. 3, Barack Obama came to Rodney Square.  I’ll never forget that day.  BTW, this is only a snippet of his speech. I couldn’t find the whole thing in one place. If you can, please share.

As much as I remember the speech, him taking the stage to ‘Signed, Sealed, Delivered’, and the raw energy, I most remember how it inspired my kids.  Like everybody else, we sort-of wove through the streets of Wilmington, passing friends, classmates, people I hadn’t seen in 20 years or more, to eventually arrive at the entrance.  I was blown away by the grassroots brilliance of the campaign–each person who entered was given a postcard with the name and phone number of one registered Democratic voter. We were asked to make that one call, mention that we were at the rally, and ask if we could count on the voter supporting Barack.  My voter said ‘yes’.  We then turned the cards into the volunteers.  Something like 10,000 campaign calls within an hour or so.  That’s when I first got that shiver of excitement that he really could win.

My kids had brought their cameras, but my youngest couldn’t get high enough to take any pictures. No problem. Someone in the crowd (who was taller than us, which was not unusual) hoisted her on their shoulders and she was able to record the event.  I’ve been to scores of political rallies in my time, but nothing surpasses the palpable enthusiasm we all felt that day. Plus, talk about a sense of community!

My kids were only two of scores and scores of people who were galvanized into action by Barack Obama.  While his presidency had its challenges, that commitment to community action that he created continues unabated. I see it in my kids’ involvement in issues ranging from LGBT rights to challenging gentrification.  I see it in their friends, and I see it in movements sweeping across the country.  And, yes, it has reinvigorated me and my wife when it comes to making our voices heard.

Barack Obama gave voice to that.  He demonstrated that ‘community organizers’ are to be celebrated and supported, not denigrated.  And you know what? He has helped to create a whole new generation of future community leaders.

Thank you, President Obama. Your legacy will not end with the conclusion of your term.  In fact, I think it’s just beginning.

Evey’s “The Lovesong of B. Hussein Obama”

“So let us go then, you and I…” Specifically, let us go on a literary and historical journey together. I know, I know, this first paragraph has waaaay less swear words than my typical lead, and I’m asking you to stop flinging upset fowl or raiding forts or breaking sweets for a minute, and view President Obama’s time in office as well as the last fuckery-filled election cycle through the lens of a major 20th century poet—a Brit no less—but trust me, it will be worth it and there will be plenty of swearing later.

“Like a patient etherized upon a table,” I was a 12th grader blessed with a teacher who was obsessed with making her students fall in love with T.S. Eliot by forcing us to read his poetry. You know, the typical commie liberal teacher trying to make us expand our horizons and appreciate the way that language can alter your brain, change your perceptions, and capture your soul if you’re brave enough to surrender to it. We read “The Wasteland,” which was a major downer and then “The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock” which was a total mind-fuck. My English teacher was “quirky” to put it politely—like she had binge-watched Dead Poets Society for the last decade. She would get really close to my face and say “It does you no service to read a poem. You must FEEL it!!” Then she would twirl—yes twirl—away. Then, I didn’t connect with the poem, but now, we are all going to get a chance to personally connect with “Lovesong.”

“Do I dare? Time to turn back and descend the stair.” On November 9, 2016 not only did the United States descend the stair, but also in a single moment of despair, anger, and self-pity, we totally Prufrocked our country, our democracy, and our perhaps our lives. In high school, I didn’t understand why everyone pitied Prufrock. I hated him. I didn’t understand how a man could stand at the precipice of his own destiny and time and time again fucking blow it. How he could be so cowardly that he would purposefully and with intent destroy his own life. But on November 9, 2016, I finally understood “The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock,” 18 years after we were introduced with a clarity I wish I could erase. You see the United States is Prufrock, and Obama, the poet who struggled to create a story of greatness for us all, but instead is forced to write a poem bereft with sorrow as we chose Prufrockian self-destruction.

“In the room the women come and go Talking of Michelangelo.” For eight years, I had been blessed with a president who was poised, dignified, smart, articulate, and compassionate, but I had fallen asleep. I was quick to complain and even quicker to criticize. I often lamented that the only thing of W’s that I wish Obama had, were his balls. I wanted him to be more confrontational. I wanted him to tell the Republicans to go fuck themselves. I wanted him to be the flag bearer for the progressive movement. I was aghast when he sought compromise. But I was wrong.

“The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes” clouded the reality of what was really there. For eight years I missed what was right in front of me. A man who challenged perceptions and changed hearts simply by being a man of honor and character when it would have been easier to be an asshole. I would have been. I missed a man standing before me who believed truly in democracy and coalition-building because I too was guilty of the very same rhetoric that inspired rage when the Republican Congress engaged in it. Obama never wavered. His was a story of quiet calm, and his vision for this nation was poetry.

“And indeed there will be time,”or so I thought. In his eight years, he didn’t take away guns to the ire of Democrats, but did give 30 million Americans more time on this planet by providing insurance. And I was too busy bitching to appreciate how revolutionary this was. I thought we’d have more time with another Democrat to make Obamacare even better. But I forgot to praise the fact that being a woman was no longer a pre-existing condition. Finally, my vagina was not a disability that disqualified me from being insured or automatically increased the price tag. There were no longer life-time caps so that children with childhood cancer could still receive benefits as teens and adults, because you know, sometimes grownups get sick even if they used all their sick days as babies. Students (takers) could stay healthier by staying on their parents’ policy.

“For I have known them all already, known them all”—all those amazing things that were possible with Obama (and Papa Joe). The United States finally codified that LGBT+ citizens who wanted to get married weren’t asking for “extra” rights, they just wanted equal rights. With Obama some of our soldiers finally got to come home. We captured and killed Osama Bin Laden. We saw some (awesome) states legalize weed. We saw a commitment to science. We saw a commitment to women. We enacted Dodd-Frank. We said bye Felicia to “don’t ask, don’t tell.” We stopped publicly praising torture. We expanded Pell Grants and spent money on education. We signed a new START treaty. We protected national parks. We pursued alternative energy. We talked about school nutrition and childhood obesity. We expanded stem cell research. We saw our economy recover—even if it wasn’t as fast as we wanted, it was still progress, and like my teacher would shout as she twirled away whimsically, “PROGRESS!!! That is what we must seek. NOT PERFECTION.”

So thanks Obama—but not in the shitty way people always say it. Genuinely—thank you for crafting our chance to stand on our own precipice of greatness only to realize we are all Profrocks, so of course we all just shit on your lovesong. Thank you for being the first memory my children will have of a president. Thank you for showing them what a leader could look like. Thank you for shattering another glass ceiling that we often ignore when it comes to people of color. Thank you for honoring your nation even when they did not honor you. Thank you for inviting conversation knowing it would lead to a fight. Thank you for rising above birther movements, and racists, and Sean fucking Hannity. And when my boys pretend to be president, I hope they are imagining being like you. When they think about how a president should conduct themselves, I hope they first think of Barack Hussein Obama who could “have been a pair of ragged claws” but chose instead a path of peace, grace, and humanity “till human voices w[o]ke us, and we drown[ed].”

nemski

I know this is the time I a suppose to reflect on the Obama presidency. But for me, it is the future he has left for us. Sure, we have the orange speed bump immediately in front of us, but we are in a better place to confront Trump than would have been say after Clinton or one of the Bushes. A good example of how we are already starting to organize and fight is the Women’s March tomorrow which my wife and I will be participating. And we have already seen politicians in DC have become emboldened, though in Delaware not so much. That said, we have seen in First State Eugene Young’s candidacy as well as the election of Matt Meyers. So there is some hope.

But for me personally, I see Obama’s presidency through my son’s eyes. Though my son is aware of George W. Bush’s presidency, it is Obama that has made the most impact on his consciousness. He has decided he wants to pursue a career in public service. For him to decide that he wants to serve the public good because of the example set by Obama makes me proud of both Obama and my son. There is hope.