joanna the nonprofit lackey's blog

A November 5th Poem

By: on 8 Nov 2008

Dear President Barack Hussein Obama,

We are celebrating. For two years, we have watched you revive a nation.  From Berlin to Brooklyn, Chicago to Kansas, from the streets to online chat rooms, your words have rippled on distant shores, hungry for hope.  Your songs of immigrants who went westward, textile workers and dishwashers and poor farmers who organized, ignite us.

When you voted against the war though you had never served, we trust you spoke for the millions of Iraqis, thousands of Americans murdered– and those who return, desperate and jobless.  We pray that when big oil reaches out his hand, you will not ask – how much?

Though your bloodlines are not of plantation workers, when you speak of slaves who whispered freedom songs, we believe your heart bleeds a sincere red.  For undocumented laborers who till in blueberry fields in Maine and kitchens in New York City - jobs Americans refuse - modern-day slavery still lives.  Will you stand up?

For not even a moment, did we consider McCain.  When your experience was minimized to an “elegant idea”, we defended your idealism - and joined the ground efforts to make phone calls to swing states and canvass in the heartland. We donated money, clenching your words -  change is on its way.

Sitting home was not an option. We remembered the struggle of Fannie Lou Hamer, who organized black voters in Mississippi who risked their jobs to cast ballots; Harriet Tubman, who carved secret freedom passages from Maryland to Ontario; Rosa Parks who refused to surrender her seat to a white passenger on a crowded public bus on a cold December day in Montgomery.  We will not let their memories fade into chic tee-shirts.  We proudly cast our ballots.

But we have questions:

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