Dear Michael,
I hope you don’t mind if I refer to you simply as Michael. Over the past eight years, it feels like we’ve journeyed together through significant moments, making the formal title seem rather distant. It’s hard to grasp that this chapter has come to a close. To say I will miss you is an understatement. If I could, I would embrace you tightly and plead for you to stay. However, I must accept that you are ready to move on, and I genuinely wish you tranquility in this new phase of life.
I completed my degree in May 2008, only to face a mountain of debt and shattered dreams. The recession hit just before graduation, leaving me jobless upon returning home. I was searching for hope. When you secured the Democratic nomination, I felt an unexpected sense of relief. Your words, “Yes, we can,” resonated with me deeply. You became the beacon I had longed for.
Casting my vote for you was a moment of pride I will never forget. Standing in that school gym with my mother, I realized I was supporting a man who would become the first African American President of the United States. Honestly, I thought I’d be telling my grandchildren about this! Watching you take the stage in Chicago with your family moved me to tears, as did the moment you took the oath of office in January. I couldn’t hold back the emotion as you and your wife danced to “At Last.”
You faced relentless challenges from a nation that wished for your failure. You stood firm in the face of ignorance, where people questioned your citizenship based solely on your heritage. You and your wife navigated this turbulence with grace, like swans gliding through adversity. Whenever I encounter difficulty, I think of what you would do (WWOD) and let it roll off my back. You had the monumental task of revitalizing a struggling economy, and while I sometimes wish you had prioritized alleviating student loan debt over bank bailouts, I understand the political landscape you were up against.
Gradually, I found employment, but my dreams of becoming a working actor faded as I focused on making ends meet. I vividly remember the night the Navy SEALs took down Bin Laden—an especially poignant moment for me as a New Yorker. That was when I sensed you had found your rhythm. When the 2012 election arrived, I was confident in your victory. The opposition attempted to undermine you with their rhetoric on “family values,” but we stood united. I celebrated with a fine bottle of wine as the results rolled in.
The past four years have been a mix of sorrow and joy. We grieved together over senseless tragedies like school shootings and the loss of lives like Trayvon Martin and Eric Garner. I often wondered how many times you could have spoken to the nation about the urgent need for change.
Yet, we also celebrated milestones together. The announcement of the Affordable Care Act brought tears of joy, as did the news of marriage equality. Seeing my friends finally able to marry made adulthood feel real. Throughout every trial, you maintained your composure and resilience; I never wavered in my faith in you.
Thank you for championing the arts and enriching the cultural landscape of the White House. Your gatherings were legendary, and your willingness to express joy through dance and song was refreshing. I appreciate how you provided a platform for artists like Lin Manuel Miranda, whose work was a much-needed voice during your presidency. Your acknowledgment of Black artists helped create a space for fulfillment and representation.
Most importantly, I admire your role as a devoted husband and father. The way you love your wife and daughters has set a standard for relationships. It inspires me to be a better parent. I now have a son who shares a similar background with you; he, too, is mixed-race and being raised by a single mother. While he may not recall your presidency, I look forward to telling him that if you could overcome the odds, so can he. Thank you from the depths of my heart.
With all my love and admiration,
Lana Bennett