Dear Barack Obama,
You really gave me hope years ago. Hope is no small thing.
Emily Dickinson says, “Hope is the thing with feathers.”
Emily Dickinson wrote poems and hid them in a chest and we didn’t know of her genius until after she died.
Do you think that was the wisest thing? Perhaps she could really be herself in her poems, because she was not concerned about being “the next great American poet.”
Perhaps it was because she was a woman, and she knew that there are certain and different expectations of women. If you are a recluse of some kind, and very intelligent, and you see things, and you have longings, but you always have to wear a white dress up to your collarbone—maybe you just figure, “It’s better for them to know me when I’ve died.”
I find that depressing as hell. Do you? There are a lot of artists and poets and healing forces in this world who were not seen and recognized until after they were dead. Some of the most talented and most brilliant, in fact.
And what I see a lot of, is so many of us repeating the same stories of parents and generations that came before, rather than taking a new track forward. It is the 21st century, after all. Are we still burning people we think are witches, and enslaving people, and bombing, and lying with tremendous propaganda campaigns, and damning people with and without using the word “hellfire”?
C’mon already, right? This can’t be the way it is supposed to go.
I think the future is about creators and what creators know and believe, and what they can start to do better.
We need to be really courageous these days. We need to be really bold. We need to be audacious. We need to do things that have never before been seen or witnessed or conceived of by most people’s imaginations.
It is all in what we choose. How we decide to participate or not participate. How we engage, or do not engage. How we make new life.
Well, I believe that this better future is possible. Do you?
Here is what I want from you, Barack-the-beautiful. Let’s just start with this little thing, okay?
You wrote a book Dreams from my Father. It made you a big deal. And it inspired many people.
Now, I want you to write a book about your mom. You can capture this—what were your mother’s dreams? What were her aches and her pains and her sorrows? What did she want for you, and what did she want for other young men and women? What did she want for this world? What lifted her spirits in the mornings? What prayers did she say?
And listen, Barack, I don’t want you to make her seem like an angel or a perfect person. I want you to feel comfortable sharing the warts of your mother, and also why you love her anyway. How you have come to terms with her weaknesses, and what you understand about women and life from knowing your mom, or not knowing pieces of your mom.
You want a better country? It starts with moms. It starts with knowing our moms and loving our moms and not expecting our moms to be in the shadows, or gods who got lost somewhere. It is about moms as people. Full people. Fully realized.
I don’t know if you are ever going to see this message, Barack, but I am sending it up with a prayer and a smile, and hope. Please do this not only for me, who is a mom. But for my son and the other young men who need strong mentors. We all need men who measure up. Men who love. Men who break, and cry, and get frustrated, and have to perform, and still come home and trust that there is something to cling to—some shred of justice and decency that still exists in this world.
While you are working on that book, I am going to share two movies that I think do a good job of capturing young men trying to figure out themselves and their mothers. Their mothers are single and struggling to take care of everyone. The moms are trying to find out who they are as individuals, and also being picked apart for their inadequacies.
I think Higher Ground Media can do something like this, ay? A movie revolution? A mother movie revolution?
Who else is going to save the world? I mean, c’mon, Barack. Let’s just get real.
Also, today is my son’s 17th birthday. I love him so deeply and wish I could make everything right for him. I can’t do that. I will just keep loving him, and I will always be here—living or dead—for him to turn to. That much I can say is true.
But what else can I do, that he needs? Tell me. Write that book.
Now, on to two movies that shed light on the mother-son relationship.
Boyhood (2014)
Written and Directed by Richard Linklater
Starring: Ellar Coltrane, Patricia Arquette, Ethan Hawke
The scene that stands out to me the most in this film is when Mason’s mom, Olivia, feels like she is powerless and unappreciated.
I feel for both of them in this moment.
(Also, how does Ethan Hawke get away with that mustache? I bet Ethan Hawke knows how to get away with anything.)
20th-Century Women
Written and Directed by Mike Mills
Starring: Lucas Jade Zumann, Billy Crudup, Elle Fanning, Annette Bening, Greta Gerwig
The boy in this film, Jamie, is surrounded by feminine energy. And his mom is so mysterious—is she even a person?
And then she tries to figure out her kid, with the help of William, the nice hippie guy who fixes cars.
Is the band Black Flag really interesting?
William also has a mustache. What is it with these men and their mustaches?
I also loved The Fabelmans, Barack. That one is directed by Steven Spielberg.
But I can’t think of any movies off the top of my head about sensitive, artsy young black men coming of age, watching their single moms struggle. You must know black, wistful young men who are trying to figure out the world—with dreams, ambitions, learning how to get women to like them. Understanding America’s racist history. Looking to their mothers as people who might have some answers.
So maybe you do a book and also one or more movies?
Look, this is a very good idea! Worth a fortune on many levels! Listen to me and it will all work out.
Therefore, please fly to Philadelphia and take my son to breakfast. It can be lunch or dinner. Whatever works. He gave me your book The Promised Land for Christmas one year. And I felt in that moment that he really saw me. I want him to be able to ask you some questions. Whatever questions he has.
Ciao, Barack-o-bama-meter!
Ms. Wonderful
P.S Get working! This is important!