dear mr. president

Dear Mr. President,

I am a big fan. I’ve always been impressed with you – and not just because you’re a Leo within seven days of my own birthday, born on the cusp of Generation X. Not just because you have a way with words that delights my intellect. Not just because you are a Democrat. Not just because you are friends with my other favorite politician (and Leo), Deval Patrick. 

I cried the day you were elected. I got swept up in the hope… but I also appreciated that amazing moment of history. That opportunity to make this country something better than it had been for 8 years… for 230 years of white male domination. To change.

I wanted that day so much, so much more than any other presidential election. I said yes when the people stopped me on the street to beg for a donation. I said yes when they called. And I even gave money again when I wanted a bumper sticker on my car and a t-shirt to wear everywhere. I haven’t given you money for this campaign. You sent me a bumper sticker anyway. I proudly put it on my Prius, to prove I am one of your fans. One of your followers. Someone who will vote for you. No matter what.

Today I thought about taking off that sticker. I didn’t. Because, frankly, I hate the Republicans with so much more of my being after this weekend. I would rather have you in office for another four years than letting them have full control again. But… maybe that doesn’t matter. Maybe, it’s still going to be their way because you want to please them so much.

I’ve never been in government. I’ve never had to deal with budgets of 13 figures. I haven’t had the conscience of a person’s life on my head. I haven’t had the fear of my own life in the back of my brain every waking hour. I haven’t had to deal with tangerine weepy man. But I have dealt with a lot of politics. Not to the massive scale and consequence of your daily worries… but enough to know it is tough to deal with crazies. And sometimes, yeah sometimes we just have to let go of the fight and pick a better battle.

Only, I don’t know why this was the battle you let go. Maybe I don’t know what’s around the corner. Maybe I don’t fully comprehend the total ramifications of not meeting the other side ¾ of the way. Maybe I’m naïve, but I don’t think this is change or hope or… a Democratic way of dealing with society.

I understand we have to work together, Mr. President. I understand there are people in this country who don’t see the world the way I do and their opinions need to be respected as well. But… well, I just want to know… when will my opinion and hopes for this country matter? To you. Enough to say to the Republicans WHO WILL NEVER EVER VOTE FOR YOU that you aren’t going to compromise. That you are going to be the voice to me, to the people like me, who gave you money – but much more than that gave you love and the hope that soared you to the top of victory. Is that ever going to happen? And if not, can you tell me why you will kill the calf for the prodigal son but not for the ones who helped you raise the farm?

We will pay taxes, you know. We will pay taxes… and maybe if you tell us we have to, I might even contribute to your campaign.