Why I Voted For President Barack Hussein Obama II

This book started out differently. It had a different name, as evidenced on the previous page. However, I should have foreseen this. I should have known it would in time become much more, and require this requisite change. The title spoke directly to what this meant . . . to me, a personal account of my mental journey down the road of the 2008 Presidential Election, the after-effects, and the wonderful voyage to the Inauguration. This was meant to be a book for 2009. However, from the moment I started I felt something different, a needed delay to observe what I knew would come to pass. I’m no oracle, but the writing on the wall so to speak was bright red and plain as day, as the saying goes. The election itself foretold the tenor of the Presidency and its opposition, and why in my mind, if he stayed true to form, true to spirit despite the encumbrances and obstruction of the ideologically divisive, this book may very well be needed in 2012. It is now 2012, and I was right. First, allow me to say thank you for sharing this experience with me. I can’t begin to tell you exactly how this feels. Even as I type these words, I smile at the sudden giddiness, the butterflies fluttering in my stomach, the elation that envelops me as I glance at the picture of my daughter, knowing that what has happened in this time, in 2008 and 2009, strikes a cord for change that will deeply affect her and her opportunities, as she grows into womanhood. I am so moved. My daughter, Elle Lindsey Brown, will be raised to be a critical thinker, a responsible and passionate citizen of both America and the world. Her mother and I will teach her to consider and be considerate, to thirst for knowledge, and truly enjoy the gift of learning, for it is a gift. Combined with our powerful emotions and self-awareness, our ability to think, and grow exponentially from what we learn, is what makes us so unique on this world called Earth. It is a gift, and it is a responsibility. She will be raised to truly understand both. As she charts her own course based on the foundation we provide, we will ensure she knows from whence she came. She will know that she is the daughter of Erica Lindsey Brown, daughter of Michael Forsythe Lindsey and Jeannette Morton Lindsey Fullard. She will know that she is the daughter of Derrick Sherroid Brown, son of John Heard Brown and Bessie Williams Brown. She will know that she is American by birth, African-American by ethnicity, member of the Clan Chosen, a Descendent of the Emancipated, and a true believer in the Tribe of the People, the Tribe of Humanity. She will know her history, the importance of her ethnicity, the distinction and historically destructive influence of the arbitrary contrivance called race, and the sincere importance of clearly thinking and understanding how in arguably one of the most important countries in human history, thought, action, and ideology grew, evolved, and made room for change and understanding, allowing for her to come into this world per chance the opportunity to achieve whatever her heart desired . . . within reason, and with positive intent. So how did this book come about? What I have just written above forms the basis of the rationale. Elle will know the events that took place around January 20th, 2009 through the visual and emotional filter of her parents. Her father will chronicle this incredibly important and most historic event. She will have the written word from the perspective of her father. She will have video of both of her parents as they take in and participate in history. She will have a TIVOed recording of the event back home to showcase details from the perspective of the media. She will have this wealth of information at her disposal, as a plank in the forever education that will be part of her life journey of growth, love, learning and so many other things. This is now the objective. It started with me committing myself to write blog entries. I’m not sure what I was thinking, honestly. I’m passionate about writing. I have ideas literally pouring out of my head. Yet, at the time, I was thinking a couple of entries in my blog might be enough. It wasn’t until I was asked to participate in a committee that would celebrate the inauguration in January and again in February during Black History month that a wider project entered into my mental view. A friend and coworker asked that those of us going to the inauguration be so kind as to document the event and share it with our fellow associates. I though to myself, sure, why not? Then, this same friend sat across from me at a table. As I ran my big mouth, waxing philosophic about the virtues and potential vices of a celebration for Obama at a corporate workplace, she simply looked at me and smiled. “Some of us should write a book about the event,” she said, still broadly wearing her smile. I let her look and smile pass me by. Surely, she was not talking about me? Then, I thought about it. Why not? If I’m going to produce a wealth of material about this experience from my own perspective, which is just as important as anyone else’s, why not share it? Why not compile all the material together into a book? I mean, I’m sure hundreds if not thousands of others will be doing the same thing. People will be writing about this for decades. Why not share my voice, such that it is? And so, that was the genesis of the project. As I left that meeting I started thinking about where to begin, what would be the layout? I have my focus, but how do I approach it, do I need more structure or less? Is there a recurring thread through each chapter subordinate to the primary focus? Is it just a collection of one individual’s ramblings? Is it all these things? I smiled. I felt good. I was going to enjoy this. I considered the combination of my YouTube video vlogs imbedded in my blog entries. I thought about the blog entries forming the basis of my book. I considered critically how true and sincere emotion would play a big role in what I would convey. This was not just about looking at what was occurring with a critical eye, classing myself as some kind of pseudo-intellectual, ham-fisted wanna-be historian. No, even though I am a true acolyte of the mind, and I’m passionate about applying reason, I’m also passionate about how I feel, and how I make others feel. I have faith. I have hope. Today, as I write this, I feel the butterflies. My mind and body resonate as I hear words echo in my head. They are the words of the President-Elect, Barack Hussein Obama, who by the time you read this, will have been sworn in as the 44th President of the United States of America. A wind blows through the corridors of my mind. It is a strong wind, powerful, and full of intent. I open my mental windows wide. I give it a free way through which to flow, deep into the cluttered, order-aspiring spaces in my head. Mentally I focus. It doesn’t take much . . . not really. I listen and I again feel the butterflies. There are words on the wind. As they blow, I hear them. It tells me that I am my mandate. What does it say? It says . . . I AM CHANGE.