Dear Mr President 365

Updates and a few favors:

2011-10-28T13:46:00.000-07:00

Hey all!

So just a quick update on my book: Dear Mr. President is still going to be printed, the editing process was stalled when my lovely and very very talented copy editor and friend got a new job at The Stranger. (Yay Anna!!) I'm looking for a new editor (my lovely and very very talented graphic designer and friend who is responsible for the beautiful cover art is helping me out in this area- Yay Kitri!!) and when it is finished the book will be infinitely better and more readable because of Kitri and Anna's help, so thanks for being patient and I promise you I will let you know as soon as you can buy it.

My mother recently brought to my attention that the campaign to re-elect President Obama is hiring writers and editors. (For more info check out the listing on mybarackobama.com) I'm planning to apply but I need several writing samples to send in. I'll be combing the blogs I've kept, the school assignments and writer's group pieces I've done, but if you happen to recall a letter/post that you thought was particularly well-written, I could really use some suggestions. Also, despite the clown car that is the Republican primary, I think 2012 is going to be a tough campaign and will need great writers! If you or any one you know is right for this campaign, pass along the listing and encourage others to apply!

The book!

2011-06-02T22:52:00.000-07:00

A first look at the lovely cover art by Kitri Wood:

Detail:

Right now the printer that will make the inside of the book is down, so I'll be posting ordering details, pricing and all that jazz as soon as it is back online....

Reflection, FAQ, and Espresso

2011-01-02T21:35:00.000-08:00

I'm not sure that I've been away from my blog long enough to really reflect effectively. For one thing, these last two days have been full of work adventures and more than my share of celebration New Year's Eve. But I do want to sum up the experience for those who are interested, and offer some suggestions for those who'd like to read other blogs. I thought I'd start by answering a few questions I hear pretty often:

Q: Does the President write back?

A: Sadly, no. I've gotten about 40 form-letter responses ("Dear Friend, Thank you for writing about _____. The President thinks _____ is important/complicated/challenging/essential. blah blah blah. Signed, The Autopen") I don't mind this, actually. The President gets 40,000 e-mails and letters every day. If mine never made it past the secretary's secretary's desk, that's not entirely surprising.

Q: Are you going to keep blogging?

A: Maybe? I'm certainly not going to continue with Dear Mr. President, if only because I can't commit to writing every day with school and work and my 2011 resolution to train for a marathon. That being said, I don't imagine I'll be able to give it up entirely, and maybe in a month or so I'll start a new blog. If that's the case, I will post it here.

Q: What is an Espresso Book? Do I want one? Can I get one?

A: The lovely University Bookstore has a machine named Homer, also called an Espresso Book Machine. This small press is used to self-publish or to print public domain titles. Because I'm a bibliophile and because the internet won't fit on my bookshelf, I'm going to print an Espresso book containing every letter I wrote this year. It will have no extras, nothing that you cannot get 100% free on this site. That being said, if any one does want a copy (and if you are my mother or my sister or taught me in Elementary school you are already getting one and no you cannot pay for it,) please e-mail me at pincek@uw.edu. I'm going to charge whatever the cost of printing is ($20-40 depending on the number of pages and the number of copies)- I won't be making a single dime on this, I promise- and the more copies I print the less each one costs. It probably won't be ready until February. It will not hurt my feelings if you do not want to order one so please don't feel obligated by friendship to order.

If you are interested in the EBM I encourage you to check out the Shelf Life Blog for more information.

Q: Are you happy or sad to be done?

A: So much of both. I've never completed anything like this before, and while I'm tremendously proud of what I have written, I'm also exhausted and ready for a break. I think this has more to do with the obsessive political news-reading routine I had going. It can really take it out of you to read some of these stories and some of this spin over and over again every day. That being said, I'm not a big fan of "story fatigue"- it has to be way worse to live some of these stories than it is to read them. So, while I am taking a break from seeking out the tragedy, the outrage, the injustice, I'm not going to live in ignorance of it. I just need a week or so to be a student. And about 36 straight hours of sleep.

Q: I need new reading material!

A: My suggestions for daily/frequent reading:

Daily Kos is a very mainstream democratic blog that has some very talented writers, diaries from dozens or hundreds of fellow dems every day. The site can be too conservative for me on some issues and recently the Israel/Palestine censorship issue stirred a boycott from many pro-Palestinian bloggers. For all of its faults, Dkos offers insight and analysis that you won't find in the mainstream media as well as many powerful personal stories from bloggers around the world. I encourage all of you to check it out. If you're interested in political blogging this is a great site to get started on- you'll get honest feedback and tons of support from the community.

Wild Wild Left is a smaller community than Dkos, and much further to the political left. This site is managed by a really remarkable woman who supports a family, struggles with a really appallingly unfair amount of tragedy for one life, and still manages to maintain her blog and promote other bloggers. She's been incredibly supportive of me and my writing and I'm always grateful for her comments and opinion (even when we don't agree.) This site is home to a number of eloquent, impassioned writers and a great place for debate and discussion.

My friend George is working on his own 365 project, called 365 spins. He listens to one album a day and writes about it. Music lovers of all stripes will enjoy his reactions to everything from Nick Cave to Mariah Carey.

Book-lovers should check out my friend Brad's blog UsedBuyer 2.0. Reviews, readings, quotations, essays, and caricatures from life and literature- what more could you possibly ask for?

Jason Vanhee is a great writer. His short story blog, A thousand stories and one story, is updated twice weekly (Monday/Thursday) and always a good read. He encourages reader suggestions for story ideas and also has more than a few great novels up his sleeve.

My blog list of links in the side bar --> has a number of other great writers, great news sites and interesting things to check out. Enjoy!

Q: WHERE'S MY BONUS LETTER?

A: Oh yeah. I got a great letter from a lovely guest blogger, which I'd planned to use to give myself a night off around the Holidays. That felt too much like cheating, so I decided to post it here. Please enjoy this letter from Chev, a frequent subject in my writing herself, and if you enjoy it check out her blog at Jesuis un vagabond.

Dear Mr. President,

My best friend has written a letter to you every single day this year. I find this an amazing feat. In a country where we are actually allowed to criticize as well as praise our leaders, too few of us take advantage of that right. Some think she's crazy for choosing to "thinking about politics all the time" (I'll bet you wish you had the luxury of that choice, huh?), but I'd argue that she's taking claim of her rights and managing to stay on top of what's happening in this world. Which is not always easy.

I'm emulating her with my own letter to you. I'm not sure of my ability to comment on current events or offer intelligent policy suggestions, the way my friend does. The most recent news article I read was in a Time Magazine from August. What I do feel qualified to write about is my identity as an American, and how you've impacted that. In fact, I think I spend more time thinking about "America," the ideal and the reality, than most politicians.

I work for you, though you don't know me. I'm a Peace Corps volunteer in West Africa. Being so far from home, in a country that can feel so different than home, I think endlessly about home. I am surrounded by people who are obsessed with America. They all have shirts adorned with your face. They don't always know that America isn't in Europe or that we don't speak French. What they know is that America is a magical, wonderful place in which there are endless jobs and money. That America is a place where people don't have malaria and babies don't die from diarrhea. I spend a lot of time arguing for reality, explaining that we don't all have multiple cars and TVs and we don't all live like Akon (the eternal symbol of West African success in America). I've been trying to explain the abomination of health insurance. I spend a lot of time insisting that this country has a lot that America can't offer; neither one is "better", they're just so different.

But the truth is, I miss America. A part of me is glad that I get to live here just for two years and that I have America to return to as my home when it's all done. Some of it is because the grass is always greener on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. Some of it is simply because, in a way I never could have imagined before one fateful night in November of 2008, I love my country.

The country I currently live in is about to have an election. The people don't really have a choice. This is a complex issue with a lot to be said about it but it comes down to this: we all know who's going to win. However heartbroken I was by the 2004 election, however ashamed I am of my country people for how they used their choice in this last midterm election, I have always remained proud that we have a choice.

Your election represents to me a moment when Americans made the right choice. No amount of CNN analyses or Glenn Beck rants or disappointing midterm elections can take that away. It brought to me the idealism and joy and energy that made me truly fall in love with my country. In your election I discovered within myself an overwhelming optimism and hope for our world which I thought had died. I discovered in others shared dreams.

I voted for you not because I expected you to fix everything or because I expected to agree with everything you do. In fact, I knew very well we disagree on some major issues. I voted for you because you are an intelligent, reasonable man who can defend his beliefs. Because I knew that when I was halfway around the world I'd be proud instead of ashamed to tell people "I'm American" if you were my president.

Clearly, it hasn't been easy. It's a tough time for our country. It's a tough time for the world. There's been a lot of criticism - some of it justified, most of it not. I don't want to dwell on what's been good and what's been bad at this moment. Maybe I'm just in more of a position to gloss over the imperfections than most. It's like the relationship most young adults have with our parents: maybe we're embarrassed to say "I love you", maybe their habits get on our nerves and we roll our eyes at them, but when we're away from home, when we're sick or scared, we just want the comfort and protection of them more than anything. That is how I now feel about America. Time and an ocean have given me perspective on what it means for me to be an American, what it means to be patriotic. I now can realize that I have a culture, and I miss it. I miss the American people, I miss the ease of interactions with people from my country. I miss my land.

If I am to make any entreaty it would be to ask you to never lose your remarkable ability to treat the American public like people capable of making decisions who deserve to know the truth. Sometimes we don't act the part, but we're grown-ups. When I walk into my bureau in the capital city, I see a picture of you. It always fills me with pride. You aren't perfect, your presidency can't be perfect, but I respect you and, finally, I feel able to respect my country.

What I really wrote to you to say, then, was this: Thank you.

As we say here when facing something formidable, "Bon courage."

Most sincerely,

Katie

Well said, friend. I miss you more than words can say. Stay safe.

I suppose that's all I have to say. I really can't thank all of you enough for reading, commenting and supporting me while I did this. I hope that you write your own letters (or e-mails) to President Obama or to any of your elected officials the next time you want them to know they're screwing up or doing a good job. The most important thing we can do for our country is to participate in our democracy and communicating with our leaders on the 364 non-election days every year is just as important as showing up to vote.

Thank you so much. It has been a truly amazing year.

Yours with love, respect and gratitude,

Kelsey

PS

If you're a reader in the Seattle area, you should know that frequent-commenter (and Libertarian, but we won't hold that against him) Matt has offered to bring beer to blog party to celebrate this all being over. I won't hold him to his promise, but he does have a point about the occasion for celebration. I'll post details for that when I get it planned-perhaps once the book is done? Anyway, I'd be honored to have you all in one room and share a few drinks. I'll feed you all well, I promise.

Day 365- The last letter

2010-12-31T19:11:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

After 365 letters I suppose I should be running out of things to say. Is a year enough distance to gain any perspective on all that has changed and all that still waits to? Tonight I hoped to make sense of it all; the personal and the political, the minutiae, the mundane, the profound, all of the things I've written about this year. As I look back through this year of letters, of one-sided conversations about issues and actions that defined 2010, I don't have any clue what it all means. I am still tired, still frustrated, still impatient with the progress we've made and the way you govern. But I'm still more like the girl I was in November 2008- stone sober and still too drunk off of election night euphoria- than I ever thought I could be. For all of the disappointments and frustration I have been so proud this year to call you my President. I don't imagine your job is easy, nor do I think I could do it better myself. I am often wrong. I am often too emotional. I use far too many commas.

For all of my shortcomings, I am still a voter and still a citizen and still, I believe, entitled to tell you what I think. Personally, I feel that the great tragedy of the disconnect between the people and our government in this country is not the disparity of money or even power but the way we converse. You do not speak or listen to people like me. When you do talk to me it is in form letters and speeches and talking points- language so polished as to be devoid of any real meaning. We do not have frank conversations. We do not hear one another. I listen to your Sunday addresses, your press conferences and your speeches and all I can say I know for sure is what you want me to think or feel, not what you actually think or feel. Perhaps the most important domestic issue is what you called the deficit of trust. This year has shown me, more clearly than I ever might have seen otherwise, how little trust our government has in the people or we have in it and how damaging this deficit is to all involved.

Deep down I still think that you are well-intentioned. If your caution and moderation do not always sit well with my hot head or bleeding heart, I can accept that you at least believe you are doing the right thing. That is what prompted me to vote for you, to phone bank for you, to write you 365 letters and to hope that I might cast my ballot in 2012 for you, again. Beyond your good intentions, I believe that you are capable of great things, that, should you overcome your fear and find the courage to make really the necessary, difficult decisions that will save this country from some of our worst tendencies, you will be re-elected and likely remembered well. I would not say that I'm a person with any tremendous amount of faith in anything, but I do have faith in you. 2010 didn't change that, and I hope to say the same about 2011.

Happy New Year, Mr. President. Good Luck.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

To all of my awesome readers:

Thank you so much for all of your support this year. I will have a much more articulate and coherent reflective piece in the coming days, as well as some suggestions for reading, a bonus letter to President Obama from a guest blogger and information about the Espresso book I'll be making. I hope you all have a fun and safe New Year's Eve! See you in 2011!

Day 364- The things you miss from the motorcade

2010-12-30T21:03:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

Tonight when I got on the bus to go home the driver saw the book in my hand and said "The two highest compliments I get from any one who rides my bus is falling asleep and reading." He said he'd try to drive smoothly so I'd have an easier time with it. I've never seen this bus driver before (or, maybe I have and, like so many bus riders let my eyes slide past him without committing anything to memory) so I don't know if he enjoys his job or hates it, if he's gay or straight, republican, democrat or anarchist. The only thing I know about him is that he is kind and approves of my two favorite activities (sleeping and reading) and seemed to approve of me, as well. This remark buoyed my work-weary and cold little spirit, a small kindness that made my whole night a little brighter.

Lately my friend's trip home for the holidays has made me the temporary owner of a car. The freedom that comes with this is incredible; I can drive where I want to go without concern for route or schedules or fare or transfers, I can play music and sing (badly) as loud as I like, I can transport really amazing amounts of groceries. But I usually wind up angry at the rest of the drivers on the road, drivers who go too slowly or break rules or don't use turn signals. While riding King County Metro doesn't always give me hope for humanity- smelly drunks, screaming children, twitchy addicts and the general impoliteness of high school kids in large numbers are just a few of mankind's shortcomings I've been known to complain about- I do at least have to keep my anger to myself, as we're not all insulated by our little glass and metal vehicular bubbles. Reluctantly, often grudgingly, I connect with people on the bus; from the young aspiring DJ asking for my number (and mistaking my right-hand ring for a wedding band when I said no) to the tiny girl playing peek-a-boo with pink plastic beads in her fuzzy braids, to the old man who wanted to discuss international humanitarian law after seeing my textbooks, I find myself having conversations, interactions or observations of strangers every time I ride the bus. I think that, even at its most tedious, riding the bus leaves me feeling a little more connected to my community.

While I will continue to take advantage of Eric's car as long as he lets me, I think I will forever be a bus rider rather than a car owner. This isn't just because I can't imagine attaining the financial security necessary for car ownership in a city, or even because of my environmental objections to frequent driving, but because I think relying upon the bus keeps me from isolating myself behind my ideas of other people and forces me to observe and interact with individuals of ages and backgrounds I might never otherwise encounter. I'm surely romanticizing the entire experience (and will laugh at this, the next time I'm crammed into a standing-room only commuter route through the tunnel with eight teenagers blaring music through their headphones or a crazy crackhead lighting up in the aisle) but for now I'm smiling to myself at the kind words of an old man who approves of me, even if he doesn't know a thing about me, not even my name, except that I read on busses.

Mr. President, I know this seems like a strange thing to tell you on the second to the last night of my year of letters to you, but I started this project for a number of reasons and among them was this; I wanted to share with you the only thing I can offer that no one else can, and that is the small experiences of my average existence. You will probably never ride a public bus again, especially not as a stranger, and so I like to imagine that you might find some value in the story of a girl, feet aching from work and caught in a surprise cold front without a coat, boarding a city bus and being thanked just for doing the thing she loves most. That you might understand why such an experience matters. Maybe it's just the optimistic holiday spirit sweeping me up, but tonight I think the world is not so bad. I hope you think so, too.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 363- "On the brink of genocide"

2010-12-29T21:03:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

The Cote d'Ivoire is, according to UN ambassador Youssoufou Bamba, on the brink of genocide. Ideally, I would think that the impending social implosion of an African nation a good reason to use US military power to protect civilians caught up in the violence. Of course, as we've overextended ourselves in Afghanistan, Iraq and our forays into Yemen and Pakistan, we simply don't have the military assistance to offer. We can hope that the UN or the African Union are able to keep peace and protect the innocent, but there is little, practically, that the US can do.

Perhaps it is naive of me to think that we should only use our troops to protect civillians, avoid genocide and keep peace. Perhaps chasing Bin Laden & the Taliban through caves is, in fact, a more effective use of our might, but I don't think our current military strategy has made us safer- indeed the number and complexity of our military engagements abroad seem to have left us in a strategically weakened position.

I'll admit that the proximity of The Cote d'Ivoire to Burkina Faso is heightening my anxiety about the crumbling political situation. I might not be so afraid if my best friend wasn't right next door. Still, I think that military force is best used to protect the weak preyed upon by the strong, to prevent the innocent from suffering whenever possible. I would rather see our troops in Cote d'Ivoire and Haiti than in Afghanistan and Iraq, where more stability could be achieved through education and infrastructure investment than any amount of troops and bombs.

I will hope that the Ambassador Bamba is incorrect in his assessment of the outlook for The Cote d'Ivoire, but should he prove correct it will be all the more frustrating to watch, helplessly, while my country is able to do nothing to stop it.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 362- Two years later

2010-12-28T16:53:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

It's been two years since Operation Cast Lead, since the Gaza war, since the brutal asymmetrical violence that left thousands dead, injured or homeless. This will likely be my last letter to you about Gaza, at least for 2010. I haven't heard any practical solutions for the people of Gaza from your administration, nor have I heard much in the way of insistence that Israel find an alternative to the utterly unlivable status quo. The peace talks that have now fallen apart, at their most ambitious, their most hopeful, did not include a framework for Gaza. The people of Gaza cannot continue living as they have been, they cannot be expected to raise yet another generation to call a prison camp home. Two years of endless stalemate haven't made Israel safer and they haven't made Gaza any more livable.

I wonder if you have asked yourself how this ends. How it will look when the war is finally over and the lines on the map are final. When every one has a flag and a seat at the UN. What will that entail? What will it look like, how will it be fair, what role will we play? Most importantly- how do we get there? If we already know these things, why aren't we doing it? It will be hard. People will be upset, compromise will not be easy. Friends and allies will be offended and alienated and you will be called any number of nasty names for your trouble. But it has to be done. Progress has to be made. The situation cannot stand.

Looking into 2011 and 2012, I know that re-election will overshadow any foreign policy goals that might not play well on FOX news. I wonder what you would do if no one were watching, if what they said didn't matter, if all the voices were silenced and you had only your own conscience to answer to. At some point, it isn't about the past, it isn't about politics, it isn't even about racism, it's just people; people killing, hurting, starving, oppressing other people and the people who look the other way and let it happen.

I don't want to be one of those people. I don't believe that you do, either.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 361- You've been randomly selected for additional screening at the back of the bus.

2010-12-27T17:04:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

A few months ago, in the rapid decline of my optimism about internet dating, I agreed to go on one last date with a man from the dating site I'd been using. One last chance, I told myself, and then I could safely give up this endless series of awkward, uncomfortable encounters and sulk, self-satisfied, assured of the hopelessness of dating and single men in general. When I arrived at the coffee shop at the appointed time I was already convinced that this encounter would be no different than the last, preparing already the excuses I would make after an hour or, if I could manage, even less. Ten minutes later, I might have been laughing at the irony of this, had I not been too busy attempting to scrape my jaw off of the floor and work the dumbstruck expression off of my face. My date was not only black americano-drinking, charming and easy to talk to, he was clearly intelligent, compassionate, adventurous and funny. (It didn't hurt that he was heart-breakingly, out-of-my-league-by-miles good-looking either.) We talked for hours. Nothing romantic may have come from this date, but we stayed friends, passing e-mails and brief comments on the latest news. He suggested a number of topics for my letters to you, and helped me better understand a few stories I didn't fully grasp. Our friendship since has been casual, but it certainly helped convince me not to completely give up on the idea of meeting men online.

Today my friend, returning from a trip abroad to visit family, was unreasonably held up in an American airport by security. I don't know the details of this, what it entailed or how he finally managed to get on a connection to come back home. Unfortunately, because my friend is also Arab, I know that this would not have happened to him if he had a different last name or a different skin color. The whole situation makes me sickeningly, blindingly angry. When I expressed this to others I heard more stories of friends or relatives or coworkers or friends of friends being held up in the absurd, racist so-called security system in American airports. I remembered walking through Israeli checkpoints, the separate lines for me and for my Palestinian friends and being so naively grateful that such a thing would never happen in MY country. All day I've been thinking about airports, how standing in line to get through security with my white face, American passport and generically WASP-y name while my Arab and Muslim (or, really just sufficiently brown-skinned) friends will be "randomly" given additional screening and I keep thinking of the same metaphor. I'm sitting on a bus in Alabama watching silently as they are made to file past me to the back.

You've experienced first-hand what it is to be thought of as Muslim and/or Arab in this country. Even as President you've seen the ugly, racist way some in this country still view some one with your skin color, your name, or the religion falsely ascribed to be your own. You've heard the crazy woman screeching at John McCain "he's an Arab!", the state representatives demanding to see your birth certificate, the 20% of Americans who think you practice Islam. If any privileged outsider is able to understand the treatment Arab-Americans and American Muslims have experienced in airports since 9/11 I would think that you might be. And while the TSA monopoly on air travel and the necessity of covering great distances quickly may prevent a Montgomery bus-style boycott of airplanes, I suspect that eventually the American people will not stand to see our friends and neighbors and loved ones treated this way in the name of our own safety.

Life isn't safe. I don't feel safer knowing that my friend is being profiled, harassed, or even inconvenienced solely because of his race. I feel sick about it. My patriotism is not a brittle, small thing, but it is based on the principles this country is supposed to stand for even in the face of fear. How am I supposed to love my country, to feel pride in it, knowing that these principles can be so easily betrayed by those sworn to defend them?

My friend, who has, in the course of our political conversations, proven himself to be calmer and more even-tempered than me on many issues, said to me today that "being Arabic and in a US airport may as well be a crime." I don't know what he's feeling or how he'll respond to this incident but I am outraged that he has to feel it, respond to it at all. And it isn't just my friend, it isn't just this airport or this incident. This is happening right now, it has been happening for too long and it will continue to happen until enough people with enough power are brave enough to stand up and say it isn't right, it isn't American and it isn't keeping us safe.

Until we stop boarding the bus and say we'll be walking to work for the foreseeable future, thank you very much.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 360- Betsie Gallardo

2010-12-26T10:19:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

When I read about a woman dying in a Florida prison, refused release on humanitarian grounds and facing a slow death by starvation, I wanted to navigate away from the page, to forget the story and to write about something else tonight. But I can't. Betsie Gallardo, born HIV+ and impoverished in Haiti, was sentenced in 2008 to 5 years in prison for assaulting an officer with a deadly weapon, a charge based on the fallacious premise that she could spread HIV to a police officer by spitting on him. Gallardo had been repeatedly sexually assaulted by a police officer in Haiti and had an intense, emotional reaction to the arrival of an officer at the scene of a car accident. She had no previous criminal record. She has since been diagnosed with terminal cancer and is no longer able to digest food. The state has refused requests from her family for release on humanitarian grounds and also refused to allow them to be with her when she dies.

Mr. President there are rapists and drug dealers and no shortage of white-collar criminals who serve far less than 5 years in prison for far worse crimes. The outrageous nature of this charge, which was certainly exacerbated by Gallardo's HIV status, is compounded with the truly cruel treatment of a dying woman and her family. How is this justice? How is a system that can look so dispassionately at the suffering of a human being the best that we can do in America? I don't approve of what she did, but this sentence (especially in light of her cancer) is stark evidence of the racism and irrationality that infect our criminal justice system. How am I supposed to feel good about sending the shoplifters I catch to a system so obviously broken? How are we supposed to criticize Iran or China for human rights abuses when we allow things like this?

You might throw up your hands and say it's a state issue, but you probably have a more direct means of reaching Governor Crist than Gallardo's family. Pick up the phone and ask him to pardon her, allow her to die at home with her family and her freedom. No reasonable human being believes she deserved a death sentence, but that is exactly what her punishment has become. The entire system needs reform, and that will take time, but right now one woman deserves a different fate. Please do the right thing.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

If I have readers in Florida, I urge you to contact Governor Crist and the rest of the Executive Clemency Board:

Charlie Crist, Governor of Florida
(850) 488-4441
E-mail: charlie.crist@myflorida.com
http://www.flgov.com/contact_governor

Bill McCollum, Attorney General
(850) 414-3300
Click here to e-mail Mr. McCollum
www.myfloridalegal.com/contact

Charles Bronson, Commissioner Florida Department of Agriculture and Consumer Services
(850) 488-3022
commissioner@doacs.state.fl.us
http://www.doacs.state.fl.us/

Alex Sink, Chief Financial Officer Florida Department of Financial Services
(850) 413-3100
Alex.Sink@myfloridacfo.com
http://www.myfloridacfo.com/

Day 359- Christmas in Beit Lahm

2010-12-25T19:24:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

Your faith teaches that today's celebration is marking the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem. Christians from around the world will be making pilgrimages to the tiny church of the Nativity, lighting candles and saying prayers, passing through the apartheid wall that confines Palestinians in the West Bank. When I visited this church in the shimmering heat of high summer, we walked past walls still scarred by bullet holes from 2002 gun battles between Israeli troops and Palestinian fighters. Perhaps, not being Christian myself, I failed to experience the reverence I was meant to feel for the site of Jesus' birth, but I could not separate my horror at the grotesque oppression (and it's violent legacy) of the residents of Bethlehem from my respect for the teachings of Christianity's central figure.

For all of those American Christians who are today sitting in churches, saying their prayers or singing carols, I hope that the harsh restrictions on the freedoms and opportunities of those, like Jesus, guilty of the unforgivable crime of having been born in Bethlehem are not forgotten. It seems so unjust that Christ's disciples are happily celebrating his birth when the citizens of his birthplace, Muslim and Christian alike, live under occupation in fear and confinement. Christmas may be a time of celebration, but I would hope that remembering the reason for this holiday and the ongoing (and overlong) fight for basic human rights for Palestinians might not be so easily disentangled.

I hope that you have had a good and peaceful holiday, despite the burdens of your office. As an individual with rather more control over the fate of those living in Bethlehem, I hope you, at least, have not forgotten them today.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Two well-written pieces on this can be found at Ma'an news and at Al-Jazeera. I urge all of you to read them.

Day 358- Ancestry

2010-12-24T21:54:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

Tonight my family had our Christmas celebration a bit early to accommodate our various work schedules. Around a non-traditional (and largely gluten-free, out of respect to my mother and sister's new dietary guidelines) assortment of gourmet foods we kept up the family tradition of being, to a man, loud and incredibly opinionated. Asher, my 2-year old nephew and the only child in our immediate family, seemed to sense that this day was mostly for his benefit, and ran around happily watching cartoons and playing with toys while the grown-ups mulled over boring assessments of roast chicken, maple-glazed squash, mushroom quinoa pilaf and scalloped corn. Gifts came after dinner (but long before the dishes) and we gushed over beautiful new sweaters, intriguing new books and appliances that had the adults even more excited even than Asher at the sight of his giant stuffed dragon.

Spoiled by generous siblings and our mother who never fails to make Christmas just as magical as it was when we were Asher's age, I got a poker chip heart;

Beautiful new scarves and shawls and sweaters:

The tools to marry my two great loves:

even my macbook got a little something:

but the most unexpected gift was a simple family tree from my older sister, and photos of ancestors I'd never even heard of before tonight.

The men and women in these photos are strangers to me. If there are traces of my own features in eyes or noses or cheeks I see no evidence of it. My ancestors came from Germany, Bohemia and England. They married and bore children and died in Minnesota, Pennsylvania and Michigan. Some settled the west, some owned slaves, some arrived with the Puritans in Massachusetts. My sisters and I kept remarking in surprise at how shockingly American the whole story is. To know that these formally-attired, stiffly-posed subjects of photographs are connected to us is strange for me, especially in my urban tribe of familial bonds forged by forces stronger than blood. What significance, if any, do these lives have on my own? Staring at so much small-scale history makes me feel dizzy with the implications, so much more personal than the characters from my textbooks.

I hope that Christmases to come will feel this way, bright and warm and full to bursting with affection for the people near me. In a few generations, when my sisters, brothers and mother and I are all just tiny branches on some one else's family tree, I know they won't understand nights like this one. They won't know about the way we teased and laughed and talked too loudly as we passed around plates of food. They won't know that three cats and two dogs tread happily around our feet, or sulked angrily under beds. They won't know that my mother's Christmas tree had one string of lights in off-white instead of snow-white and why, exactly, that would bother her. They might see photos of me in my strange clothes and find nothing to connect them to me besides the sharing of some significant amount of genes. I think this gift, more than any of the others, reminded me to pay attention, to take in the details before they were lost in whatever next century's black and white photos will be. To look around at my family and feel connected to them, for all of our differences and for all of our faults. My ancestors' Christmas celebrations looked and sounded very different than my own and certainly meant something very different than this night means to our family now, but I hope that they felt a similarly overwhelmed by the love of those around them.

I hope that you have a good Christmas, Mr. President, and that even your job allows you a few hours of beautifully mundane moments like this to remind you of the sustaining love for and from your family.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 357- Busses and bulldozers

2010-12-23T21:42:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

I wrote a few days ago about the upcoming ad campaign in protest of the Israeli occupation of Palestine on buses here in Seattle. Even as I expressed my trepidation at the prospect of seeing my opinion represented I was hesitant about, I was, in a small way, a bit thrilled to see the campaign taking up the tools of our opposition to spread awareness. Since then, however, several things have happened. First, the David Horowitz Freedom Center (the name likely offers all the necessary explanation as to the group's purpose, but for my readers unfamiliar with David Horowitz, he's the despicable mind behind such classics as "The 101 most dangerous academics in America" and other twists on the idea of freedom.) proposed matching the 12 pro-Palestine buses and raising it to 25 busses bearing signs that say "Palestinian War Crimes: your tax dollars at work." Then King County Metro decided maybe the whole thing was a terrible idea and banned all non-commercial ads.

Ok. I have to get my head around the fact that David Horowitz is a bigoted, racist scumbag. I need a minute. All right, I'm mostly over that. His disciples, in inverting the message of the original ad, have not only created something that doesn't make even a little sense, they've demonstrated exactly why I don't like this form of outreach. One of my coworkers put it quite well tonight, saying that the venue didn't allow for the nuanced discussion necessary to change any one's mind. Beyond that, while I'm disappointed to see the city caving to backlash, I understand why public transit might not be the best battleground for the Israel/Palestine debate in America.

My frustration is mainly with the feeling that support for the Palestinian cause, something that can't be found in the White House, the State Department, congress or on any ballot, that has been stigmatized to be tantamount to anti-semitism, terrorism, extremism, is so inflammatory it can't even be presented to the public without causing a controversy. The Israeli occupation is bolstered when we go shopping, when we pay our taxes when we cast our votes. Israel is the 16th wealthiest country on the planet, the largest recipient of US foreign aid (more than the rest of the world combined) protected by US veto power at the UN, and still a sign on the side of a bus (or 12) in Seattle is too much of a threat for the occupation's fiercest advocates to permit.

So the busses will keep selling us movies or clothes or hamburgers. The bulldozers will keep demolishing houses. The settlements will sprawl. Maybe an ad campaign can't change that, either, but I don't believe that silencing discussion and dissent is going to help solve a situation that cannot continue for long. As President, you probably don't care what's happening on local transit advertisement, but I think that this incident speaks to a larger, national fear of approaching this issue. So long as our White House continues to stifle frank conversations and to lead with the example of avoidance, impotence and spineless complicity in the human rights abuses carried out by our ally, I don't see how individuals or grass roots organizations will ever find the an appropriate forum to say what needs to be said.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 356- The narrative of the moment

2010-12-22T23:35:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

Yay! You're officially a comeback kid! Did you wake up this week feeling suddenly more powerful than ever before? I ask because the media is abuzz with the story of your late legislative victories, and I can't get rid of this wry smile at the sudden change in narrative. Last week you were ineffective, stymied, your Presidency basically over. Now you're leading congress to more legislative accomplishments, repealing DADT, getting health care benefits for 9/11 first responders, saving the world from the threat of nuclear war with START. You're such a badass. How did things change so quickly?

Thing have not, of course, changed, but the way they are discussed on TV had to change. I'm not sure if this is a reflection of the American public's attention span or just the way the media feels about it, but it can't be a coincidence that every one changed their stories at once. It rings falsely to my ears, anyway. One of my favorite local writers, Paul Constant, agrees, asking that the media "let Bill Clinton's tired "comeback kid" trope molder in the 90s, where it belongs. Things are more complicated now. Don't we deserve a more nuanced media, too?"

Mr. Constant is right when he says "anyone with an ounce of common sense knows that you don't measure a presidency in inches, but these little victories and defeats are what keeps all these unworthy jackasses employed." . His media criticism reminds me of Jon Stewart, who has perfected the art of splicing news clips to show the absurd way one story can be discussed in identical terms. I don't think that you're a different President, that you're working any harder or that you've made any dramatic changes to your approach in the last week. I won't be even a little surprised when, a few weeks or months from now, the narrative changes again and every op-ed writer and pundit is lamenting your stalled/failed/vague/poorly articulated/tone-deaf agenda. As some one with a really unhealthy obsession with political news, I probably find this more annoying than a person who doesn't live and die with these narratives, but I think this practice contributes to our national discourse in an overwhelmingly negative way, encouraging reactionary, short-sighted emotional responses to decisions and events that require more context and perspective.

Just so you know, Mr. President, I'm not buying in to the idea of you being suddenly effective as a leader. For all of my angry, disappointed or nagging letters I've sent this year, I've never stopped appreciating your deliberate, measured approach to things (even when it frustrates the hell out of my hot-headed impulsive side.) I think you're great, but I thought you were great last week, too. I'm proud of what you've achieved and I recognize the magnitude of the work still to be done. This is no time for a victory lap or for complacency. So I hope that you soak up the good press while you've got it, because you know it won't last long.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 355- Bubble Tea and cannibalism

2010-12-21T22:01:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

As a small child there were a number of foods I convinced myself I didn't like. Broccoli. Pizza. Tomatoes. Really it would be faster to list the foods I did eat than those I didn't. It took me years of insisting I didn't care for a variety of foods I'd actually never tried before I finally began to question this mindset and experiment. While I gradually grew to like many of the kinds of food I'd convinced myself never to try, I've held out on certain things. Tonight I finally tried bubble tea, a drink that most people in this city love and that I've long insisted not to like. It was absolutely delicious. (If my best friend is reading this I am in so much trouble.) Every time this happens to me I have the disconcerting experience of questioning my other long-held beliefs. My friend who changed my mind on bubble tea is also married. What if this means I might like that, too?

So while I've been thinking most of the night about all of the things I've convinced myself I don't like or that I can't do, changing my party affiliation would have to top the list. I could no sooner identify as a Republican than I could wake up tomorrow with normal sized hands. When I read Arlen Specter's farewell speech I chuckled at his characterization of the tea party insurgency as "sophisticated cannibalism" but I couldn't get my head around the idea of an ideology that could sway so easily from Republican to Democrat. I'm so fiercely and consistently liberal that I just can't conceive of such contradictory ideas being contained in the same mind. But, if I can't identify as a Republican, must that also mean I could never compromise with one, work together with one, or even hold a rational conversation with one? I don't think it must, but I do see how the labels make this difficult. I've certainly heard (and parroted) the comparison of primary politics to cannibalism before today. I'm not sure if I'm more sympathetic to the party-purist cannibals calling for more partisanship or the centrists like Mr. Specter decrying it. Centrism and caution certainly have a role to play, but with voters increasingly frustrated with congress' inability to get anything done, I'm not surprised that more liberal Democrats and more conservative Republicans are gnawing at the bones of their compromising incumbents. But who is to say what is liberal or conservative enough? Who is to say if this enthusiasm for either extreme is actually a hinderance to progress and change in the way it polarizes those who govern us together?

As you can tell, the revelation that I like bubble tea has really shaken me up. I'm not sure I'm really sure about anything any more. Perhaps this state, this rejection of certainty and reexamination of opinions based on new information is really what we should look for in candidates. The more I learn about our political system, the more I wish we could do away with political parties all together. I think that the party system engenders laziness in the electorate, who no longer have to discover for themselves where a candidate stands, but can decide votes based on the parenthetical letter after a candidate's name. I think it also creates a falsely combative state, implying that the Senate and House have 2 (or, generously, 3) competing opinions rather than 535. That an allegiance to party is more important for funding and re-election than an allegiance to voters or even to a politician's personal views. For example, the Republicans holding up health care funding for 9/11 first responders aren't answering questions about why, and I think that's probably because "the party leadership told us to" doesn't spin well as justification. The party system encourages this, and each side's talking-point explanations sound more and more like my own childish insistence that I hated things I'd never even tried.

Maybe getting rid of political parties wouldn't rid us of extremists, but I think it would encourage honesty (and courage) in a system sorely lacking it. What do you think? How could our system be improved to ensure that public servants (most of whom I believe to be well-intentioned) are better able to serve the people? You've been accused of extreme centrism and unforgivable liberalism (often for the same position.) Does your identity as a Democrat compel you to support or oppose issue you might not personally? Would you rather be seen as an ineffective centrist or an authoritarian extremist?

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Thanks to Jessi for the Bubble Tea :)

Day 354- Lunacy

2010-12-20T22:26:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

On my way to work this morning I read a New York Times report on an increase in serious mental illnesses on college campuses and corresponding budget cuts which limit the amount of help students can receive. While my own college experience certainly corroborates this, at least anecdotally, my thoughts went first to a mentally ill man we'd recently caught shoplifting at work. When my coworkers and I stopped him he seemed docile enough (if completely delusional) but once in custody he apparently became quite agitated and made threats against the lives of the arresting officers. A man with a similar illness recently committed a murder in my neighborhood, and so the idea of this shoplifter being released worries me for the safety of those who might cross his path once he's released.

There is an old police superstition about the increase in crime and craziness around the full moon. I've heard it from my parents, from other cops, and from the family of law enforcement. I don't know if I believe this. There is a certain amount of mystery to law enforcement I suppose; there have been times when just looking at a person has told me that they're going to steal. I know my coworkers have experienced this, too. I like to think our brains are perceiving something-the aggressive gait, or the furtive looks- that our conscious minds can't identify. But, absent proof of this, I have to at least consider the possibility that maybe there is some small supernatural aspect to understanding when people are ill-intentioned or dangerous. Maybe the full moon means something. (If so, tonight's lunar eclipse is going to make the whole city nuts.)

I don't think that crazy people can be dismissed as solely a celestial phenomena. Our city (and our state, and our country) need to do more to treat the mentally ill-both to ensure public safety and to help individuals function in society. That this area seems to be the quickest to be cut during budget battles is unsettling. Reading this article about the struggle to keep students in crisis alive, I couldn't help but wonder what could possibly be more important than treating those who pose a risk to themselves or others. As I talk to my peers and appreciate how many of us are frustrated at living life constantly struggling just to get by, I can't help but sympathize with those seriously ill I encounter who aren't even doing that well. Because if it's the economy or stress or the full moon, if it's college kids or homeless schizophrenic shoplifters, we all have an interest in understanding, treating and minimizing the harm of mental illness.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 353- Spring Break!

2010-12-19T22:11:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

This week I'll be applying to join the US Boat to Gaza, (the ship you probably recall is named after your book.) It may not be the most conventional way to spend spring break, but I think that it's exactly as self-indulgent as I'm willing to be. I have no idea what the odds are of me being selected to actually go, but I suspect that I'll always regret it if I don't at least apply.

Even if I don't make it to Gaza in 2011, the discussion of the gaza blockade has taken to the sides of city buses right here in Seattle. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this. While I wholeheartedly agree with the message and support the intentions of those running the ads, I don't know how effective this is as a strategy. Is $1794 better spent on an ad campaign that might not change any minds, or would it have been better used to send help to the people affected by the policies being protested? The awareness created might be considerable, but I'm not sure it will lead to the public outcry necessary for any substantive policy change.

When I lived in DC, the metro tunnels were routinely home to issue ads. One was the picture of a baby (presumably Palestinian( wearing a pro-hamas headband, and said "This child could grow up to be a: ( ) Doctor ( ) Lawyer (x) Terrorist" (The ad can be seen here thanks to flickr user louko.) The ad made my blood boil. I have visceral reactions every time I passed by it. Targeting the blameless children of this conflict seemed especially sickening, and to have it shouting at me from every wall every day of my commute ensured that I began and ended each work day so angry I could barely speak. The very nature of advertising made discussion or argument or dissent with the people placing the ads impossible. I think my intense reaction to these ads has made me hesitant to feel any joy at seeing ads supporting my views. I understand that the very effective (and well-financed) tactics of the Israeli lobby and PR organizations need to be balanced somehow, but I don't feel great about sinking to their methods.

The most I can hope for is conversation. If it gets people talking, thinking, questioning the policies supported by their taxes (often without their knowledge) I will swallow my objections and applaud the efforts of the organization purchasing the ads. The argument that a controversial, thought-provoking ad like this one is at least better than another Macy's ad is not lost on me, either. Do you think this is a helpful or appropriate forum for foreign policy conversations?

I should probably go work on my application. I know you don't agree with the mission of the US boat to Gaza and you could certainly never support it publicly, but I hope that, even if it is only in private, you find a moment to consider your own responsibility for the people who end up on this ship and for the policies that have made such an organization necessary.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

I encourage all of my readers interested (and fully aware of and prepared for the risks) to apply to the US Boat to Gaza. If you don't want to go yourself, a financial donation will help purchase supplies to deliver to the people of Gaza, as well. Other great gift ideas for those concerned with social justice can be found in Nicholas Kristof's latest New York Times column, or on etsy.com

Day 352- The next battle

2010-12-18T15:16:00.000-08:00

I just want to take a moment, before I start praising the efforts of those who have been fighting for the civil rights of men and women in the armed forces, to call out those who voted against those rights today, or who decided not to vote at all.

The following Senators:

Alexander (R-TN), Nay
Barrasso (R-WY), Nay
Bennett (R-UT), Nay
Bond (R-MO), Nay
Brownback (R-KS), Nay
Bunning (R-KY), Not Voting
Burr (R-NC), Nay
Chambliss (R-GA), Nay
Coburn (R-OK), Nay
Cochran (R-MS), Nay
Corker (R-TN), Nay
Cornyn (R-TX), Nay
Crapo (R-ID), Nay
DeMint (R-SC), Nay
Ensign (R-NV), Nay
Enzi (R-WY), Nay
Graham (R-SC), Nay
Grassley (R-IA), Nay
Gregg (R-NH), Not Voting
Hatch (R-UT), Not Voting
Hutchison (R-TX), Nay
Inhofe (R-OK), Nay
Isakson (R-GA), Nay
Johanns (R-NE), Nay
Kyl (R-AZ), Nay
LeMieux (R-FL), Nay
Lugar (R-IN), Nay
Manchin (D-WV), Not Voting
McCain (R-AZ), Nay
McConnell (R-KY), Nay
Risch (R-ID), Nay
Roberts (R-KS), Nay
Sessions (R-AL), Nay
Shelby (R-AL), Nay
Thune (R-SD), Nay
Vitter (R-LA), Nay
Wicker (R-MS), Nay

are all cowards. The men and women on this list ought to be ashamed of themselves and their votes today. If any of my readers hail from the states represented by these Senators, I encourage you to e-mail them to express your displeasure at the way they have represented you and the other citizens of your state. It doesn't matter that the motion passed, that history has passed by these aging bigots and their old world views. These men and women, at least today, did not support American troops the way they deserve to be supported.

Dear Mr. President,

I was at work today when my phone alerted me to a new e-mail from you. It began:

Moments ago, the Senate voted to end "Don't Ask, Don't Tell."

When that bill reaches my desk, I will sign it, and this discriminatory law will be repealed.

Gay and lesbian service members -- brave Americans who enable our freedoms -- will no longer have to hide who they are.

The fight for civil rights, a struggle that continues, will no longer include this one.

I think this is my favorite way to receive such good news. Not to live up to your accusation of the left being totally impossible to please or anything, but I can't help fixating on the idea that troops who are risking their lives to serve our country can't marry the people they love. We'll let them serve- now even openly- but we won't let them marry their partners. I know, I know, you and congress need a minute to breathe, to recover from this long-overdue fight, but this is too important to rest. It is unfathomable to ask gay and lesbian Americans to serve a country that still legally treats them as second-class citizens.

So while you're celebrating this hard-fought victory, I hope that you are looking ahead to the next battle. I want to feel proud of my country today, hearing news like this, but I can't help lamenting the distance we have before us, the long way we have yet to go.

Anyway, thanks for the e-mail. Keep up the good work.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 351- Celery

2010-12-17T22:53:00.000-08:00

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart

Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c

Exclusive - Mike Huckabee Extended Interview

www.thedailyshow.com

Daily Show Full Episodes

Political Humor & Satire Blog

The Daily Show on Facebook

Dear Mr. President,

Watching The Daily Show last night, I felt like cheering when Mike Huckabee suggested that Democrats were making health benefits for 9/11 first responders a political battle and Jon Stewart retorted "honestly, to their discredit, they haven't." Stewart goes on to compare the situation to the Democrats being handed a feast of a political win on a silver platter and refusing it in order to sit in a corner and eat celery. His entire show seemed to beg the question "hey, where's your outrage now?" of every 9/11-invoking Republican, FOX news pundit and mosque-protesting bigot. Because honoring those who died on (and continue to die from) 9/11 is about more than keeping Islamic community centers outside of a 10-block radius of ground zero. Mr. Stewart, after the rally to restore sanity, forcefully reminded Rachel Maddow that unlike pundits representing real news networks, he doesn't have any skin in the game, he doesn't play so much as shout drunkenly from the stands. I think yesterday's show demonstrated rather clearly why that isn't always true. It must be frustrating to watch a comedian out-articulate you with a message that Democrats ought to have been owning since the Republican filibuster began.

Another silver platter story arrived in the form of the Republican opposition to the International Protecting Girls by Preventing Child Marriage Act of 2010. House Republicans voted against the bill (even some who co-sponsored it) citing fiscal concerns and bizarre fears that such legislation could increase abortions. I just want to tear my hair out at the horrifying logic being used to justify this. Where is the family-values outrage now?

(See that Cat? See the Cradle? )

I understand the desire to live in merry bipartisan bliss, especially now that every one is in the spirit of the holidays. But Jon Stewart is right. Enough celery! Democrats ought to be finding every TV camera they can and repeating some version of the same line about honoring 9/11's heroes and protecting vulnerable children from exploitation in the name of marriage. The race for 2012 starts any day now (if not yesterday) and voters across the country need to know that voting Republican is tantamount to saying it's OK to let 9/11 first responders suffer and struggle and die, that it's OK to quibble about the global gag rule while 12-year old girls are forced to marry men old enough to be their grandfathers.

Put down the celery Mr. President, it's time for a more satisfying entree.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 350- Old photographs

2010-12-16T23:02:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

Today I brought in one of my Senior portraits to show one of my coworkers who'd asked to see what I looked like with dreadlocks. A trip down memory lane always is good for a laugh, (especially when recalling my 18-year-old self's somewhat eccentric fashion sense.) This week, reflecting as I have been on the very different paths so many of my friends from those days have taken, I can't help but wonder if the girl with the purple dreads and the pink satin thrift-store dress over bell-bottom jeans would be happy with the way she's turned out. My wardrobe is certainly more subdued, my hair less exciting, but would she be ok knowing what I've become? What I've failed to become? I may not miss much about being 18, but she had a faith in herself and in her own ability to achieve that's been lost in the years since this picture was taken, and today I miss that faith tremendously.

I've been struggling lately to remind myself that lives and accomplishments can't (and shouldn't) be held up for comparison. The decisions that have led me to my current state may haunt me in the evident joy of those who chose the alternate path, but I cannot evaluate my life against those of my peers. Our circumstances and struggles and goals are very different. It is ultimately the ways I've disappointed my own hopes, and not the ways the my life and accomplishments fail to measure up to those of my friends, that really bother me.

Do you feel like you've lived up to the goals you set for your Presidency? While it may be just as unfair to compare your own achievements to those of previous Presidents, this context is used by media pundits and fellow politicians alike to lend context to your achievements and shortcomings. This may be even more unfair than judging my own life against other 24-year-olds, as
we've come of age in the same era while your predecessors had very different social, congressional and economic situations. I reject the comparisons to Presidents Clinton, Carter and Bush (I & II) but I do wonder about the ways you've disappointed your own hopes and expectations. Today's tax compromise cannot feel like you'd imagined running the country would feel when you were campaigning.

I'm probably just projecting my own soul-searching onto you, but I think that such an ugly political defeat would have to make you reflect on the things you said you'd do once you got to the White House. I wish I had something cheerful or comforting to say, but I can only hope that both of us find the strength to face our reflections tomorrow morning. Our accomplishments, past and to come, mean nothing without it. And, be it because of the judgement of old photographs or the way we suffer in comparison to others, I think that there is some good, some hope, so long as we maintain the honesty necessary to feel our disappointment in ourselves.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 349- Undergraduate Woes

2010-12-15T22:11:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

I really have to admire the students in the UK demonstrating against rising University fees. I don't support acts of violence and I do hope that no one is hurt, but these youth have a right to be upset by their government's decision. While petty and spiteful individuals with experience in the American system of higher education might get some satisfaction seeing our British counterparts forced to face the unreasonable burden of educational expenses that we've been struggling with for a generation, I don't think gloating is particularly productive for either nation. The fact is that American students should have been protesting tuition hikes decades ago. The British students taking to the streets now may not get their way, but at least they won't look back and wonder why they capitulated without a fight. Here, the system has failed us, continues to fail us, but we remain largely silent.

I'm lucky, this year. I qualified for excellent financial aid- not because of a drastic change in my financial circumstances, but because I finally became old enough for the government to stop expecting my parents to support me. A system such as this-one which willfully disregards the economic realities faced by most students and their families- cannot stand for long. A society is stronger and healthier when its people are educated. I don't think that making it more difficult for many and outright impossible for some to access higher education is a socially, fiscally or morally responsible policy.

I appreciate that under your administration paying for college has gotten easier for American students, especially those from low-income backgrounds. Unfortunately, economic conditions and the poor priorities of those who write the Federal and State budgets have led to decreases in funding for public Universities across the country, forcing staff and spending cuts that decrease the value of the education provided at these institutions even as tuition steadily rises. Britain is joining the US in our struggle to balance the desire to offer the best educational institutions in the world and the inability of individuals (or, increasingly, governments) to pay for it. A British friend and I were discussing this today and he pointed out that the money raised by the increase in University fees might help British Universities hire better educators and provide more resources for those attending. Some good might possibly come of this, but it will inevitably be at the expense of the poorest students who will no longer be able to access these resources at all. In the end we both sympathized with the angry, rioting students who'd just seen their educational hopes and dreams lost to the recession.

As I glimpse the light at the end of the dark tunnel that is finals week, I have to say I'm more grateful than ever for the assistance I'm receiving this year. I know I could not be in school without it. I can't say for sure that our country will benefit in equal measure once I get my degree, but I do know that without it I would feel stuck, lost, unable to live up to my full potential.

So as I watch the news from the UK and hope against hope that students there don't end up struggling the way I did as a younger undergraduate student to pay their expenses, I can't help but wonder if those of us who aren't struggling to pay our tuition ought to be doing more to help advocate for those at home and abroad who are.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 348- Secrets and Lies

2010-12-14T15:32:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

I've never been a particularly good secret-keeper. My face gives away every emotion, every lie I try to tell. This might be why I've never had the stomach for any significant subterfuge. I've been another person's secret too many times and seen it end too badly for them and for me to have any illusion about the nobility of secrecy. If a decision cannot bear the scrutiny of others it is probably not a particularly good choice. Michael Moore recently posted bail for Julian Assange, and in his letter explaining his motivation for this decision he says

Openness, transparency — these are among the few weapons the citizenry has to protect itself from the powerful and the corrupt. What if within days of August 4th, 1964 — after the Pentagon had made up the lie that our ship was attacked by the North Vietnamese in the Gulf of Tonkin — there had been a WikiLeaks to tell the American people that the whole thing was made up? I guess 58,000 of our soldiers (and 2 million Vietnamese) might be alive today.

Instead, secrets killed them.

I think that what you once called the "deficit of trust" Americans have in our leaders is brought about by these lies we've been told throughout history. Wikileaks is not the answer to this; a government that doesn't hide behind lies is the answer. Instead of joining the chorus of voices from the right and left calling Wikileaks a terrorist organization, I think that you should take this opportunity to change some of the behaviors you've been so embarrassed to have the rest of the world discover. I think an important (though, for obvious reasons, unsavory) step toward this is to relinquish some of the sweeping expansions made under President Bush to executive powers. Aspects of the PATRIOT ACT, the power to assassinate suspected terrorists without a trial, even the new standards for screening by the TSA all contribute to the sense that the government does not trust the people. It can hardly be a surprise, then, that the people have developed our own system for dealing with a similar mistrust for our leaders. Some one has to blink first. Demonstrating a commitment to responsible, trustworthy leadership is the only way the government can regain our trust.

A friend, while commenting on a previous letter about Wikileaks, pointed out

most of the people whining are old politicians. Our generation has already seen these document releases happen with corporate and personal communication. We have an entire generation (the boomers) that have relied on "security through obscurity", and that doesn't fly in the technological world. This is a rude wake-up call for them.

Perhaps the endearing anecdotes about your addiction to your Blackberry deceived me into thinking you'd be on our side of a generational conflict. Surely the age issue is as false a dichotomy as race or religion or any other of the teams we're told to fight for in life, but I think that my friend is right in identifying an old world view of security and the conflict between those who cling to it and those of us willing to view security in a modern light. Secrets and lies may have worked (at least for a little while) for previous administrations, the unprecedented level of individual access to information simply will not allow it to continue. Secrets and lies have created the current state of international affairs, the mistrust of Americans for actions our government has taken on our behalf and often without our knowledge.

Michael Moore and Julian Assange certainly have their share of faults. They also don't have the complicated, difficult job of running a country or trying to keep the free world safe. But the burdens of your position don't justify the lying and they don't justify defending a system that is based on mistrust of Americans. Even if you can't publicly defend Wikileaks or Assange, you can take steps to change the way our government keeps its secrets and the way it spies on the American people. We can't trust a government that doesn't trust us, and it's up to you to change that.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 347-Richard Holbrooke

2010-12-13T21:28:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

Richard Holbrooke's death is a loss for his family and for the international community he spent his life serving. Reports of his final words "You've got to stop this war in Afghanistan" left me wondering who he'd intended them for. Were those words for you, the one person who might be able to do it alone? Or were they for all of us, each person with our own, considerably reduced, ability to bring the conflict to an end. I had to consider the wisdom of this man, his life spent experiencing first hand the international drama I study in classrooms. Was he speaking to me, then? Did he believe that the war even could be stopped?

I may not always trust my own naive beliefs about war, but I don't think that Mr. Holbrooke suffered from naiveté. His call for an end to this war joins a chorus of other well-informed voices demanding that we end this senseless, counter-productive and expensive conflict. I don't imagine that any last words, even those of such a distinguished diplomatic heavyweight, will change your position on the war so dramatically.

If there is one thing that I am saddest about after all of these letters is that I no longer believe you're capable of listening to the anti-war voices in your rush to please the right. Even when those voices come from true American heroes, you seem to have accepted the argument that being anti-war is being anti-American. In the cacophony of discussion about strategic values, public perception and geopolitics I think the simple statement that this war is just wrong will inevitably be lost.

As we mourn the passing of a great man who served his country well, I know that I, at least, won't be mourning just his death but also the sad knowledge his dying words have fallen on deaf ears.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 346- "Bigotry disguised as prudence"

2010-12-12T19:50:00.000-08:00

It still seems an unwritten rule in establishment Washington that homophobia is at most a misdemeanor. By this code, the Smithsonian’s surrender is no big deal; let the art world do its little protests. This attitude explains why the ever more absurd excuses concocted by John McCain for almost single-handedly thwarting the repeal of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” are rarely called out for what they are — “bigotry disguised as prudence,” in the apt phrase of Slate’s military affairs columnist, Fred Kaplan.

-Frank Rich "Gay Bashing at the Smithsonian"

Dear Mr. President,

Frank Rich's column in the New York Times is worth reading, and not just for the brilliant and characteristically eloquent way he takes down the hypocrites crying "hate speech" about the Smithsonian's exhibit including "A Fire in My Belly." Beyond the cold political outrage, Rich draws a parallel between the deaths of bullied gay teens and the deaths of so many artists and the ones they loved to AIDS. His words convey a palpable helplessness, the frustration of watching from a distance as so many suffer and die needlessly as those in power condemn them, of listening as the hateful bullying from the right once is once again allowed to marginalize the gay community without objection.

I can relate to the way Rich feels. It's appalling to see the Smithsonian capitulate to the homophobic bullies on the right offended by art. And while Republicans in congress pile on their own objections, they continue to hold up repealing Don't Ask Don't Tell, and, as Rich notes, have yet to participate in the anti-bullying it gets better project. I think that common sense tells us a piece of art that some find offensive is far less deserving of the condemnation of members of congress than a national epidemic of homophobia and its attending death and suffering. I don't understand. I know I am removed from it, living in the privilege of a white-skinned heterosexual body. But I couldn't help but see the faces of my friends in the stories of the young artists dying of and losing loved ones to AIDS, of the boys giving up on life because they fear they will never live and be accepted for who they are. I see them in these stories and I ache for losing them and seeing their losses. Most of all, I feel angry. Angry that I cannot protect them from people like this, people with the power to help them who do nothing but make it worse and then have the audacity to get angry about their expressions of frustration. It is unsurprising that a religion wielded as a tool of oppression will become the target of criticism and frustration by those it oppresses.

Heterosexual Christians wrote the laws of this country. They have determined who can vote, who can marry, whose lives are worth funding research to save and who gets to serve in the military. It is long past time for it to be ok to make and display and honor art that expresses the pain at the damage that their system has caused. The Smithsonian made a mistake, backing down in the face of this manufactured controversy. I think it is time that you (and more of those with the power to change our cultural acceptance of homophobia) stood up and said so.

Mr. President you campaigned on the promise that life for gay and lesbian Americans would be better under your administration than under President Bush's. While there may be a limit on how many minds you can legislate into acceptance, there are unjust laws that are within your power to change. The alteration of this exhibit at the Smithsonian may seem like a small thing, but it is the latest in a long series of capitulations to the idea that not only is being gay unacceptable, being angry at the way the rest of the country treats you isn't either.

Please read Mr. Rich's column, Mr. President, and ask yourself if you are still fine doing nothing on this issue.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 345- Family, Finals, and Tolstoy

2010-12-11T15:56:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

I've been thinking a lot about family dynamics today. My aunt is visiting, and, especially with the holidays approaching, I'm observing the complicated way that my family and the families of those around me interact. This afternoon, as I returned from my final (by the way, can you issue an executive order forbidding Saturday morning finals? More on this later.) I was discussing college with a coworker and mentioned that as a younger person I'd dreamed of attending NYU. I lamented that, had I gone, my life would be different, I wouldn't be struggling as a 24 year old to finish my undergraduate degree and subjected to the indignities of Saturday morning final exams. It wasn't ultimately grades or distance or even money that kept me out of NYU- it was my father. And, while the wisdom of the intervening 6 years may have taught me that I likely would have made plenty of my own mistakes, or encountered obstacles and tragedies no matter what he decided about my college possibilities, I still resent him as the reason my life is what it is. It is a resentment that is wholly unproductive, of course, and no excuse for my own faults, but his discouragement mattered so much more at that stage in my life because he was family. I think of him more around the holidays, inevitably, but this year, at least when I'm not having my entire day thrown off by inexplicably scheduled exams, I'm not as troubled as I usually am. I have the love of those people who have supported and encouraged me, and that is so much easier to hold on to and so much easier to think of as family.

No life is simple enough to blame all struggles and problems and Saturday finals on one person or once choice. Mine certainly isn't. Surely one of the essential things that we gain from these experiences are the skills necessary to interact with other humans once we're old enough to be more selective about who we spend our time with. I think the news story that brought all of this rambling about families on is probably pretty obviously the tragedy of Mark Madoff's suicide on the anniversary of his father's arrest, but I sort of lost the nerve to write about it. For one thing, I don't want to read any more, it feels like a private tragedy for a family, the kind that shouldn't be headline news. For another, I can't judge any one in this story. Families are complicated and messy and maybe the one thing that unites all of humanity. I'm sure fathers are screwing up their kids in Afghanistan and Portugal and Senegal and every other country on this planet, and the fierce love and protectiveness I feel for my own current family (blood and otherwise) is reflected in every human in every culture. We're all differently damaged by our families, of course, but I don't believe Tolstoy for a second that this is only true for the damage. Happy families are not all alike. Our happiness, the way we love one another, is surely as varied as our humanity. So I will not speak about the Madoff family, or any family, when it is only mine that I can begin to understand.

My family is simultaneously small and sprawling, the product of choice and circumstance and happy coincidence. They put up with me when I grumble too much about finals on Saturdays. I am grateful for them and for all of their quirks and complexity. And while I challenge myself to put aside my resentful feelings towards the people in my past, it is the people in my life presently that make me appreciative of where I have been and what I have experienced. Perhaps it has more to do with the inevitable reflection caused by the end of this year drawing closer, but I am certain that, however different you and I may be and however differently we may feel about the events that brought us to our current lives, we're both experiencing our own gratitude for the presence of those we love right now in a perfectly un-Tolstoy-like way. So I hope that in the coming weeks you, too, have time to enjoy (and, more than likely at times, suffer through) the presence of family without worrying about anything bigger than that.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

PS

Please think about that Executive Order.

Day 344- Approval ratings are overrated

2010-12-10T11:11:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

I should probably preface this letter with a warning; I haven't slept much at all this week, finals are making me crazy, and I'm currently getting my kicks by deliberately misleading the rude customers who keep approaching me in the cafe and treating me like I work here. (Ok, I do work here. But they don't know that. I'm just trying to study and drink coffee in peace. I am not a directory.) I'm a little off today, and more than a little sick of most of the human race. Perhaps it is this black humor that has me so enjoying the latest Daily Show segment on your approval rating of the American people.

That's right. Your rating of us. Right now it has to be pretty low. We're capricious, apathetic, lazy (physically and intellectually) we want you to do everything and we don't want to have to pay for any of it. Also, we're all right, all of the time. Even when we disagree with each other (and ours past or future selves.) While Jon Stewart & crew's point seems to be about public whims over health care and taxes, I read an op-ed today from Roger Cohen that says basically the same thing about foreign policy. "President Barack Obama had virtually no domestic constituency for his attempt to denounce the continued growth of settlements as unacceptable and as undermining a two-state peace at its core: land."

While I do think that some of the blame belongs to you and probably even more belongs to congress, I'm a big fan of the blame-the-voters-for-being-idiots strategy, too. And not just because they keep confusing the cafe counter with the information desk and being rude about it to boot. Because our economy couldn't possibly be this bad, our military this extended into wars this ridiculous, our jails this full and our reality TV shows this popular if a significant part of the population wasn't quite so dumb. (Before my libertarian friends get all upset, I know there are "good liberals" in the stupid category as well. I've met them. One of them called me a fucking zionist whore in comments on this blog.) So, yes, it's our fault, too. You probably shouldn't take our opinions or our approval too seriously, since clearly we don't know what the hell we're doing. We can't even distinguish a counter full of people eating and drinking coffee from a staffed information desk.

Ok, this letter has clearly veered far enough outside of seriousness for me to go back to studying. I guess what I mean to say is don't let the stupidity, the caprice, the apathy and the ignorance get you down. It could be worse; you could be working retail.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 343- Tax cuts, bandwagons and war drums

2010-12-09T14:40:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

OK, I get it already. Lots of prominent leaders across the political spectrum have come out in support of your tax cut compromise with the Republicans. I mean lots. And releasing their endorsements one at a time in separate press releases was pretty funny. Gail Collins pointed out that liberal Democrats have been asking you to get mad for a while, and now we're complaining that you finally got mad- at us. And you have every right to be mad, I suppose, as none of us were mad enough to show up on election day and give you a congress that might have your back (though, to be entirely fair, you might have found better ways to spend the primary season than propping up every tired blue-dog with a pulse.) For all of my suggestions that you either refuse tax cuts for the rich or refuse tax cuts for all of us, I wasn't the one responsible for negotiating the compromise (and I won't be the one responsible for negotiating the next 2 years worth of legislation through congress.) You made a call and now you're standing by it.

Collins, in her opinion piece, laments those on the left still landing hard from their fall off of the Obama bandwagon, while smugly declaring her own fall is off of the "line in the sand bandwagon". I suppose I might also be accused of letting my loyalty to you as a person & my membership in the cult of personality surrounding you conflict with my true bleeding-heart liberalism. As many who supported you in 2008 walk away, disappointed, decrying the whole bandwagon mentality, I wish I could join them. Maybe it's a mark of an inferior mind to need a higher authority to place my faith in, but I haven't still haven't heard a better alternative. Should the anti-bandwagon crowd offer me another leader, or convince me that we don't need one, maybe that will change. For now, while I often think that you're wrong, but I'd never trust myself to do your job better.

In all of the outrage about tax rates and the inexplicable failing of the cloture motion to repeal DADT, I was getting more fed up with congress than with you. To add to all of this, the House has passed legislation preventing any Guantanamo Bay detainees from being brought to domestic prisons. Today has not done much for my rapidly dwindling faith in the American people and those we elect to represent us.

My own time has been selfishly consumed with a struggle to finish my final papers for class, study for my exams, and maintain something that resembles sanity closely enough to keep my boss from worrying about me. I can't fix the economy, I can't get basic equality for gay and lesbian Americans and I can't close down Guantanamo bay. I jumped on your bandwagon in the first place because you said that you could. And while my frustration might be more deserved by several members of congress and those who didn't find the time to vote in the midterm elections, unfortunately you're the one I picked for a pen pal. We can't possibly be losing the fight on this many fronts at once.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

PS

The only thing that's bolstered my spirits today is the news that Suheir Hammad, one of my favorite poets, will be speaking at a TED conference soon. They published the text of her poem "What I will" and I thought I'd send it along to you.

What I Will
by Suheir Hammad

I will not
dance to your war
drum. I will
not lend my soul nor
my bones to your war
drum. I will
not dance to your
beating. I know that beat.
It is lifeless. I know
intimately that skin
you are hitting. It
was alive once
hunted stolen
stretched. I will
not dance to your drummed
up war. I will not pop
spin beak for you. I
will not hate for you or
even hate you. I will
not kill for you. Especially
I will not die
for you. I will not mourn
the dead with murder nor
suicide. I will not side
with you nor dance to bombs
because everyone else is
dancing. Everyone can be
wrong. Life is a right not
collateral or casual. I
will not forget where
I come from. I
will craft my own drum. Gather my beloved
near and our chanting
will be dancing. Our
humming will be drumming. I
will not be played. I
will not lend my name
nor my rhythm to your
beat. I will dance
and resist and dance and
persist and dance. This heartbeat is louder than
death. Your war drum ain’t
louder than this breath.

Day 342- Oklahoma makes me hopeless

2010-12-08T15:23:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

One of my final papers is on State Question 755. I would not normally write to you about issues of state government unless it was my own state, but the broader implications of this issue and it's popular support are really getting me down today. As I'm sure you know, State Question 755 would amend Oklahoma's state constitution to prevent courts from considering Shariah or International law when deciding cases. While I have confidence that wiser heads in Federal courts will prevail, it isn't this law, or the effects it would have that bothers me the most.

State Question 755 passed with almost 71% of the vote. Not just a majority but an overwhelming majority of Oklahoma voters were convinced that the threat of Shariah law is dire enough to warrant a constitutional amendment. I believe that many issues have perfectly reasonable people on both sides, that intelligent, rational thinkers exist as both conservatives and liberals. I don't believe that SQ 755 is one of those issues. I will say now (and I don't particularly care if it is disrespectful) that any one who voted for this is either stupid, uneducated, racist or easily manipulated. It really depresses me to know that 70% of Oklahoma's voters fall into that category. It makes me think that maybe public education is even worse off than I'd realized.

Researching this issue has led to reading a number of comments from supporters wearing the modern-day white sheets of internet anonymity. CAIR is a trojan horse, they say, Muslims are evil, they say, Islamic law demands that you beat your wife, force her into a burqa and mutilate your daughter, they say. I wish I was exaggerating but these are all comments I see repeated again and again. I think this must have been what it felt like to be a white American during the era of Jim Crow. I see this pointless, hateful, twisted logic written in to law and supported by the majority and hidden behind fear-mongering and I can't do anything about it. No one wants to listen to reason, no one wants to even hear information that might contradict their beliefs. It's like banging my head against a wall.

I guess I should take comfort in the fact that Jim Crow laws were overturned, the civil rights movement did change a lot of minds and that things did, slowly, get better. Muslims in this country may be the convenient scapegoat of our irrational fear at the moment, but in a few decades or centuries it will get better. What really bothers me is that, even if things have progressively improved for minority groups in America, it seems as though the ignorance and fear that caused the oppression and wrote it into our laws (and even our founding documents) hasn't gone anywhere. We stumble from enemy to enemy without questioning the real problem- our ignorance and our fear.

I don't have anything constructive to offer. The courts will strike down SQ 755 and it will materialize in another form on another ballot in 2012. I want to be cheered by the inevitable triumph of judicial wisdom over popular ignorance, but I'm having a hard time seeing the good in a system that pits one judge against 70% of a state's voters and hopes that the right thing will be done. How do you maintain your own faith in the voters, especially after this year's midterm elections? How do you explain an initiative like 755 passing with such a wide margin of victory?

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 341- Christmas spirit

2010-12-07T16:58:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

I've never read Truman Capote's A Christmas Memory. I'm not sure if this would earn me quite the same horrified look as referring to a picture of what was apparently the terminator as "some scary robot", but I'm sure it's some level of cultural failing. Tonight I went to listen as my very talented coworker read the story aloud at our bookstore. It was one of those perspective-changing experiences that reminds me how very not alone I am, no matter how often I'm convinced otherwise. Sitting in a small crowd that all laughed and cried at the same time, a group of people so different and yet so similarly moved, was exactly what I needed tonight. Maybe it's just the stress of finals week or the cold weather or the fact that every politician in the country (including you) seems to have gone Republican since November.

If you're not familiar with Capote's story, it describes the friendship between a young Capote and his much older relative, their adventures baking fruit cakes for beloved strangers and generally being misunderstood by the other members of their household. It's funny and sad and (having nothing else to compare it to, I can only assume) best when read by some one capable of doing all the character voices. Perhaps this, the Christmas tree on the Space Needle, and my roommate deciding to put the Christmas lights up in our apartment are nothing more than a happy confluence of holiday cheer, but the last few days have me actually looking forward to the holidays in a way I usually don't. The story made me remember my grandmother and appreciate both my strange family and my family of strangers. It made me miss my best friend more than ever. I think there's a reason why the joy of the holidays is so closely linked to lonely, nostalgic feelings. As we give ourselves time to feel the love we have for the people in our lives it's impossible not to also feel the loss of those loved ones who, for whatever reason, aren't with us.

I think this is why I don't want to talk about the tax cut deal you're making with Republicans. I know that not wanting to talk about it doesn't make it any less real (or any less of a terrible idea) but I just don't have the heart to criticize you for bad economics, bad politics and bad foreign policy every single day. As stressed out as I've been, I'm sure it's much worse for you. So I'm just going to enjoy my newfound (and likely short-lived) Christmas spirit, which is somehow both happily warm and terribly sad, and save criticizing you for tomorrow. Merry Christmas.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 340- A bad compromise

2010-12-06T20:14:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

I'm sure you'll be getting no small amount of hell from the left over the tax-cuts-for-unemployment deal you made today with Republican leadership. I won't add to it. Not because I don't think this was a show of weakness, a terrible decision given the economic climate and a bad political move to boot, but because I wasn't in the room.

I actually wasn't in any number of rooms, as I'm sure this negotiation took place over many days on many levels in many, many rooms. I don't know what was said, what was offered and what was threatened. I can say I'd have done it differently, but I don't know, for sure, that my solution would have worked any better than yours.

I won't add to the criticism, I will say only this; I am disappointed. I feel let down, I feel ignored, I feel as though you caved in to demands you might have stood up to. I, and other liberals who voted for you, are owed an explanation. Who are we to hold accountable? What blue-dog democrats backed down? What possible justification do so-called fiscally responsible Republicans have for this massive increase to the deficit? Where were we beaten and where were we just too afraid to fight back?

It's been a long week for me, already, and it's only just Monday. Taking a break from finals week madness, I tried to follow some of the reactions to this deal. The usual name calling is all around, as is plenty of voter's remorse and more than one "I told you so" from fellow liberals. One comment came from a man whose unemployment insurance is going to be extended because of this deal, and all he had to offer was gratitude.

Maybe it's because I'm tired, maybe it's because I can accept the limits of my own knowledge, or maybe it was the gratitude of this man, but I just can't share in the fury on the left tonight. It was a bad deal, a bad day. All I can do is tell myself that tomorrow will be better.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 339-All in

2010-12-05T21:50:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

Palestinian Prime Minister Mahmoud Abbas has stated that he will dissolve the Palestinian government and force Israel to take responsibility for the West Bank. Abbas is clearly a much better poker player than I would have given him credit for.

If Israel does not stop settlement construction, Abbas would be wise to follow through on this threat. Abbas is correct when he says that he cannot be expected to lead, to be responsible for a territory he has no real control over. Israel bears little of the financial or regulatory responsibility for its occupation, and forcing the government to pay (literally and figuratively) for its policies is the only way to compel change. The threat may frighten Israeli leadership enough to get an actual settlement freeze or could pave the way to a more just single-state solution, should the Palestinians begin lobbying not for statehood but suffrage.

I certainly don't envy the headache Prime Minister Netanyahu must be suffering as a result of this announcement.

With Israeli and Palestinian firefighters working together to battle a forest fire, I hope that government officials on both sides recognize the potential for all of the people in this region to live side by side, to work together, in peace. It can happen, but such an outcome is absolutely contingent upon civil rights, economic stability and personal security for all people, regardless of race, religion or ethnicity. It cannot happen under occupation, and I am glad that Abbas, at least, recognizes this. I hope that peace talks resume in a manner that is fair and respectful of both sides, but, should the intractable commitment of the Israeli right to continue the construction of the settlements prove to be insurmountable for Netanyahu, I fully support the return of administrative responsibilities for the West Bank to the Israelis. Palestinians have long been punished (often violently) for the actions of extremists within their midst while Israel has empowered, protected and elected their own fundamentalists. The price of this hypocrisy ought to be the social, financial and political burden of the occupation and oppression supported by those fundamentalists and spearheaded by settlers in the face of international law, the interest of peace and basic common sense.

Abbas has slid his chips across the table. Netanyahu must go all-in with him, or fold and face the consequences. As Israel's ally and an advocate for peace, (not to mention a leader familiar with the costs of occupation in Iraq and Afghanistan,) I'm sure you can appreciate just how difficult Netanyahu's decision will be. Netanyahu should learn from history, freeze the settlement construction and return to the table for peace talks more willing than ever to compromise for the sake of peace. Call your friend, Mr. President, and tell him it's time to fold.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 338-The Moral Lie

2010-12-04T21:20:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

While I am generally opposed to lying, and do not tell many lies, there are certain lies I tell all the time. I don't think this makes me much different from most people, and I usually carry on with little notice of this hypocrisy. The polite constraints we expect of one another in most casual conversations compel a certain amount of dishonesty. I think that most of the lies I tell are for the sake of politeness. But, today at least, dishonesty weighs heavily on my conscience.

I have been staring at this page for hours now, wondering if I have the courage to finish this story. I have written before about stigmas surrounding mental illness, the way a frank admission of depression and its effects can change the way people look at you, the way they treat you and the esteem they hold for you. I have experienced both sides of this disdain and am loathe to subject myself to it. To be honest about my struggle, to be honest about my history would be uncomfortable for me and for those who think they want to know about it. And so I lie, for every one's comfort. Or so I tell myself.

When I was very young, and for years after I was old enough to know better I was troubled with compulsive self-injury. It may ring falsely to those who do not understand this, those who see only the stigma, the cliché, to describe myself as passively affected, the direct object of such acts rather than their perpetrator. And I am theirs to judge, I suppose. My history with it is long and complicated and over. I have shut the book on that struggle, on that part of my life and, most importantly, on that behavior. But the evidence of it remains, and will likely remain on my skin for the rest of my life. I don't think it is fair that I should be judged by the mistakes of my younger self, that I should be defined by this aspect of my past, no matter how far it is behind me. When questioned about these old scars, I tell myself that those who ask really do not want to know the story behind them, and it gives my conscience no trouble lying to them. It is, after all, for their own good.

Today I was asked by some one I have slowly come to trust and I lied anyway, almost without realizing I was doing it. I don't imagine he is the type of person to ask questions he does not actually want the answer to. Because I look for his approval the same way I would look for that of a role model or mentor or even a brother, I realized even as I was in the process of lying that I was doing it for my own protection and not for his. I was lying because it is important to me not to be seen as weak or emotionally disturbed. I was lying because of my own ego, my own fear, and I could not pretend that there was any nobility, any honor, in this fiction.

Which brings me, once again, (and rather oddly,) to Wikileaks. As I hear each new story, as each new lie is revealed, I find myself wondering not at the government's dishonesty but at its justification for this dishonesty. The gossipy diplomatic cables I understand. I don't care if a US diplomat thinks Vladimir Putin is Batman and doesn't want the world to know. (Honestly, I'd be more surprised at this point if Vladimir Putin wasn't Batman, but I can see how it might cause some discomfort.) These are polite obfuscations that help every one save face. The body counts in Iraq, the corruption in Afghanistan, the 22 dead children in Yemen, however, are not lied about because they are impolite topics of conversation. These are lies of ego, lies of fear, lies born of the greater self-delusion that they are kept from the American people for our own good. Even the idea that bringing these crimes to light will put American troops in greater danger is, I believe, misguided. The people of Iraq and Afghanistan (and Yemen. And Palestine. And God knows how many other places.) know who is killing their children and empowering their corrupt leaders. This information is only secret to the American people, and it is kept secret from us not to protect us but to protect our government from our reaction to this knowledge. And there is no nobility, no honor, in these fictions.

My past is full of dark things and terrible stories and many people will not want to hear them. But I cannot pretend I hide the past for the protection of others. I hide because I am ashamed and I hide because I am afraid. And so do you. So does this government. Our greatest lie is not when we hide the truth from others but when we tell ourselves that we lie for a greater good.

I did not write this letter to call you out for these lies. Clearly, I have no moral high ground to claim. We are both liars and we are both deceived by our own lies. I wrote this letter because I have been quick to condemn your dishonesty while slow to notice the same tendency in my own life. I understand why you lie, and why you convince yourself it is the moral thing to do. I just don't think that you really believe it any more than I do.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 337- A different path

2010-12-03T22:44:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

Today I caught a girl my own age shoplifting. She told us she's been using heroin since the age of 17. She has two children, who she no longer has custody of, and was visibly suffering the effects of her addiction. While I have no regrets about catching her and sending her to jail, I was a little shocked by how much sympathy I felt for her situation. I couldn't help but wonder how easily I might have found myself down a similar path. I can't imagine the life decisions that lead to an existence like hers, but, even after I clocked out for the night, her story lingered in my mind.

It reminds me that criminals, the anonymous numbers filling prisons around the country, are all stories and decisions and pieces of families. That they are not anonymous. When a friend pointed out to me that you finally got around to issuing pardons for non-turkeys, I was hopeful that you'd had a similar reminder, that your compassion for those who have wandered too far down the wrong path was guiding you to act.

Sadly, your 9 pardons all went to offenders who were not currently serving prison time (and a few who never received prison time at all.) Instead of using your Presidential powers to commute sentences and give worthy applicants a second chance at life, you seem to be on track to match Presiden't Bush's abysmally thin pardon record.

Mr. President, you have a difficult job. Getting legislation passed, appointees confirmed, or policies changed requires the cooperation of the near-useless houses of congress. You don't get to wave your hand and change the world, or even the country. But the pardon is one power that is left almost entirely to your own discretion. You could make a difference, change the lives of so many who have been unjustly punished. This is something you don't need the Republicans to agree to, something you don't have to negotiate through endless bureaucratic nonsense. You have the power to look past the numbers and the sentencing minimums and recognize the human stories behind the charges. I was reminded today how random and cruel life can be, how any of us could find ourselves years down the wrong path with no viable way out. If I had your power, I'd want to do whatever I could to help give people a second chance.

I hope that, going forward, you make better use of that power.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 336- In which everything goes wrong

2010-12-02T14:34:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

Everything is going wrong today. I overslept and missed an important guest speaker in my morning class. I wasted way too much time reading internet news. I got a massive headache. A shoplifter at work got away and made me feel weak, slow and clumsy in the process (but at least got rid of my headache.) I'm an unacceptable level of upset about a boy, I'm terrible with money and I'm not even being a particularly good sister or daughter these days. I feel like an unqualified failure at just about every aspect of my life. So I can't write about tax-cut negotiations or human rights abuses or the death of the American Dream today. I'll probably be all over this by tomorrow, but tonight I have to write about positive things.

On the local level, the city of Seattle won National Novel Writing Month for the 4th year in a row. By 8 million words. (Not that I'm rubbing it in, or anything, LA.) Seattle continues to shine as a literary center for emerging writers, and while I did not participate this year (writing to you keeps me busy enough) I'm proud of my friends who did. Many approach November with more than a little disdain for the competition, which is won by every one who reaches 50,000 words by Nov. 30th, but I think that anything that combines charitable donations (Seattle alone donated $10K to youth writing causes) with a sense of community for the often solitary experience of novel writing ought to be applauded. Many great novels are born in these thirty days each year, and even those that will never see publication or fame or fortune will at least have the sense of such a tremendous accomplishment.

Nationally, NASA had me thinking they were going to announce the existence of extraterrestrial life, but I suppose an arsenic-based life form is pretty cool, too.

Finally, while this may seem a bit mean-spirited of me to count as a positive thing, Nigeria is pursuing a case against Dick Cheney for bribes paid to Nigerian officials by Halliburton. I don't imagine for a second that Cheney will actually ever see the inside of a courtroom, let alone be brought to justice, but still it's nice to see that sometimes that bad ones get theirs, too.

I'm in a better mood already. On a related note, a man walking two giant English Mastiffs just walked by the coffeeshop window, and I need to go pet them. The only thing that makes me happier than a city full of badass writers, an entirely new form of life, and a justice system (any justice system) with the courage to stand up to Dick Cheney is giant puppies. I hope you aren't also feeling like an abject failure tonight, but if you are, you should probably just play with Bo for a while. Trust me, it helps.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 335- Dating advice from some one who really sucks at it

2010-12-01T20:58:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

I'm really terrible at dating. I'm making my peace with this, slowly. I tend to make all of the classic missteps- I come on too strong when I should be cautious, I get too frightened or shy when I should be bold and direct. I panic unnecessarily and I talk way too much. I'm secretly convinced that if I were tiny and blonde and traditionally feminine I'd have no more problems, but I'm sure that being this insecure is just as unattractive wrapped in tiny, blonde packages. The advice I get from friends can be succinctly summed up: calm down, be brave, and stop acting so desperate.

Reading through the Wikileak diplomatic cables, and reading the latest news from the non-existent Isreali/Palestinian peace talks, I can't help but notice how we could really apply this advice to foreign policy. America seems alternately too aggressive and too passive, quick to throw itself without shame at allies like Israel and Saudi Arabia and Egypt, and completely prone to panic over Iran. (Oh, and we definitely talk too much.) American foreign policy shouldn't seem this desperate. James Zogby has an eloquent essay discussing the highly illogical (and counter-productive) strategy of bribing Israel with aid money, arms sales and UNSC vetoes in order to get them to agree to abide by international law. Despite our boasting of our military, economic and moral prowess, we seem too cowed to stand up even to the countries we call our friends.

Sure, it's easy for me to give advice that I'm too thick-skulled to follow, but, seriously, one of us should start showing some self-respect, and soon. I'm thinking that it's a much bigger deal if America keeps getting pushed around on the international stage (or making a complete fool of itself) than it is if I stay single for a few more years. So, in full acknowledgement of my own hypocrisy, I think that you (and Secretary Clinton) need to calm down, be brave, and stop acting so desperate. The United States is a superpower (for now) and we ought to remember that, and use our clout responsibly. We should expect our allies to live up to their human rights obligations to their own citizens and to their neighbors. We should not sensationalize the threat posed by rogue states like Iran and North Korea, but should calmly and rationally rally the international community against these threats. It might be easier if we were tiny and blonde and popular like Switzerland, instead of the world's police, but I think we could manage our awkward and often unlikable tasks with a lot more dignity. Maybe America will still end up as whatever the country equivalent of a 40-year old spinster with tons of cats is, but at least we will conduct ourselves abroad with something like self-respect.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 334- The perfect storm

2010-11-30T16:30:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

Call me crazy, but I suspect that most Americans would pay a few cents more for food if it decreases the likelihood that that food doesn't have e. coli, salmonella, or any number of potentially deadly food-borne contaminants. Personally, I'm willing to pay quite a bit more for food that (besides being generally non-toxic) is also produced with as little harm to living things and to the environment as possible. (I know, I know, that's just mind-blowingly leftist of me to say.) So when congress passed the Food Safety Act today (and you applauded them for it) I figured that this would cause little excitement from the right. Turns out I'm not getting any less naive with age, because Glenn Beck called this "criminal" and suggested that "the perfect storm" is upon us and it's time to "close the bunker door."

I have to say, as much as I appreciate Mr. Beck for giving Jon Stewart something funny to do most nights, I'm really underwhelmed by his sustained hysteria. Food safety? REALLY, Mr. Beck? REALLY? The problem, of course, is that no matter how little credibility I may believe Mr. Beck has, people do take him seriously. Lots of people. People I can't dismiss out of hand because some of them are surely related to me, and all of them probably have loved ones who think they are rational enough human beings. And when Mr. Beck uses words like "criminal" and implies that a relatively modest expansion of government oversight for massive national industries that people trust with their health, (and the health of their children,) is tantamount to a natural disaster, well, people who take him seriously are going to get upset.

Mr. Beck's language implies physical, immediate danger. Storms don't think or reason; they destroy. Storms wreak senseless havoc. Instead of engaging in honest discussion about the role of government in agriculture and food production, Mr. Beck wants his audience to panic, to react with fear and instinct and emotion. Because escaping a storm isn't about reasonable discourse it's about survival; it justifies all kinds of conduct that would not otherwise be acceptable.

I think one of the fundamental divides in this country is between those of us who are willing to turn something as benign as a food safety bill (or really any political disagreement) into a harbinger of the apocalypse, and those of us who are committed to more reasonable, saner discussion of the issues. I think that you fall into the latter category, which is why I respect you and, unfortunately, also probably why you "lose" many of the contrived news-cycle battles with the ever-hysterical right. I'm glad that you don't sink to that level, and I like to think that winning re-election won't require it of you.

Then again, I've already demonstrated a really unhealthy amount of naive good faith in people, so maybe you should break out the end days language and start invoking life-or-death stakes for every legislative battle you face. The sky is falling. The sky is falling. The perfect storm is upon us.

Or something.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 333- The Freeze

2010-11-29T15:57:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr, President,

When I began my time at Borders the company had a policy to evaluate employees on a yearly basis and to give out a modest raise based on that evaluation. (While we were discouraged from discussing the amount of these raises, word has a way of getting around. The last year that they were in place, raises were about $.03-.11/hr.) While there were always grumblings about the meanness of size of these wage increases, they could not begin to rival the uproar that taking them away entirely created. Citing very real financial troubles, the company chose to cut costs by cutting any merit increases for employees. I'd been in management positions before and after this decision and I noticed a distinct increase in apathy that I couldn't find the heart to condemn. The face of our company was not the executives who still lived with 6-figure incomes and yearly bonuses, but the employees who were making near-minimum wage and seeing cost of living increase while pay stagnated and benefits were slashed. Clearly, Borders has not presented a particularly happy face to the public ever since.

When I read about your decision to freeze wages for Federal Employees I was deeply unsettled. This strategy was not particularly effective for Borders, and I don't imagine it will be the miracle that deficit-concerned Americans are looking for when applied to Federal employees. Why is it that Federal employees can be forced to pay the the price of our deficit, but taxing the rich at pre-Bush-administration levels is tantamount to class warfare?

Also, while it may be crass to consider something as tangible as peoples' livelihoods a negotiating point, but it seems like poor political strategy to order this freeze without getting some concession or promise in return, like the expiration of Bush tax-cuts or the extension of unemployment benefits.

At Borders, while the employees grew unhappy, the wage freeze did little to solve the company's financial problems. Layoffs came next, and still the company struggles. I may have little expertise in economic matters, but I witnessed firsthand the way that punishing the anonymous laborers for the mistakes of the wealthy executives destroyed a company that once led the industry in the way it treated its employees. I would hate to see the same thing happen to our country. Yes, economic times are tough and we will all suffer the consequences of this, but those who are weathering the storm with the least inconvenience- the rich- will not be the ones to restore our economic stability. Recovery will come from the poor and especially from the middle class. Further inhibiting their buying power is only going to make things worse.

I understand you have tough choices to make and this was certainly not a decision you made lightly. I will keep faith in your good intentions and in the wisdom of your decisions, and hope that you find the courage to make sure that the burden of this recession is borne equally by the wealthiest Americans.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 332- Wikileaks (with a vengeance)

2010-11-28T18:58:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

For a casual student of foreign affairs such as myself, today is basically Christmas come early. Getting a glimpse behind the veil of secrecy that obscures much of the day-to-day unscripted intrigue of international relations can be exciting, even if it likely made the last few day (and the next few weeks) pretty rough for you. While much of the information leaked concerns only trivial possibly-embarrassing frankness, some of the information is already proving to provide a new picture of our current relations with several countries. And, while I take no pleasure at seeing you or your administration embarrassed, I do think that the right of the American people to have access to the knowledge of how we are being represented abroad is more important than the impoliteness of letting foreign leaders know what we really think of them.

Certainly this latest release of information is less damning than the previous revelations about the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan from Wikileaks. If nothing else, it might be viewed as an opportunity to learn about weaknesses in our government's electronic secret-keeping. We might also take a moment to appreciate the importance of not bribing or bullying other countries, (not to mention mistaking aid money for pay-offs and US diplomats for spies) unless we're cool with every one knowing about it, but even I'm not so naive as to believe your administration capable of learning that particular lesson.

As with every other letter I've written you about Wikileaks, I will conclude this by saying that no damage could be done to a government acting with honest good intentions. And maybe ours is too big, our foreign policy too complicated, for that to always be the case, but leaks like these are shameful because our government ought to be ashamed of how it represents the people of the United States. We share your embarrassment just as we share the responsibility for the foreign policy decisions you would prefer be made in secret. If we're to be represented by our government we have the right to know what it does. Should the day come that our government manages to represent us well, it will have nothing to fear from the truth.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 331- A change of heart

2010-11-27T20:23:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

Former Supreme Court Justice John Paul Stevens has changed his views on the constitutionality of the death penalty. Thirty-four years after deciding with the majority to reinstate capital punishment, Stevens has cited judicial activism, rampant systematic racism and the hysteria of those making life or death decisions as evidence that the death penalty, at least in its current form, is not consistent with the constitution. While this change of heart does nothing for the 1,100-some hearts stopped in the interim years, it does demonstrate an admirable commitment to the higher purpose of the law; a commitment unshaken even by the fear of backing down from such a public position on such a difficult issue.

To see a change like this in such a high-profile individual is astounding. How often do we hear politicians or judges admit they were wrong? How often does the synthesis of new information or insight (rather than the cynical hope of political gain) actually change the entrenched views of our leaders? While, as a result of my own ideology, I am certainly more impressed than I would be if Justice Stevens' opinion had changed the other way, I think that the power of this announcement is not in the moral soundness of his judgement but in his willingness to admit that his previous position was wrong.

I hope that you carefully consider the Justice's words on the subject. I, like Justice Stevens, do not believe that capital punishment has a place in our legal system, and I hope that you take this opportunity to question your own position on the issue. Unlike Justice Stevens, whose changing heart cannot hope to change many lives, you are in a position to help those unjustly affected by this policy. Read the Justice's essay, Mr. President, and see if your own heart is not moved to make the same change.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 330-Black Friday & health insurance

2010-11-26T21:51:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

I've worked in retail for the last four years. Most of the time I hated it, but today is the day that usually made me love it. Especially in later years, as a manager, I'd rework my hours for the week and end up spending something ridiculous like 16 or 18 hours at work, setting up before the store opened, drinking way too much coffee, and generally racing around as though lives were at stake. I'm probably just a bit of an adrenaline junkie, but after Black Friday, the store got busier, the lines got longer, and everything just got more exciting as the urgency to build displays, refill displays, organize gift wrapping services, unpack merchandise for the floor and help customers once the doors opened increased. Working retail during the holidays was stressful and did not go well with having a "normal" holiday season, but it was the most fun I've ever had at any job. Today, while I still work in retail, I no longer have the same responsibility toward customers or toward merchandising. It was a little disappointing to roll in at 2 pm for a 6-hour shift catching shoplifters, especially knowing that my sister would be working 18 hours at the clothing store she manages. It's nice not to have lines of frantic bargain hunters surging through the doors at 6 am, but it lacks a certain glamor. (However, the sheer craziness of the shoplifter we caught today pretty much made up for any lack of excitement.)

That being said, in this economy, it was kind of nice to see all of the hilarious coverage of long lines, crazy crowds, and more than a few frantic shoppers who look like they train to find deals all year long. Yes, it still makes me a little sad, and yes, it still makes me wonder if our society has deep issues with priorities and materialism, but I like my job, I like that my friends have jobs, and I hope that many more jobs can be created this Holiday season.

I noticed today that you had to get stitches as a result of a basketball accident. My first reaction was something along the lines of "OH NO, POOR PRESIDENT OBAMA! I SHOULD ASK IF HE"S OK!" (which probably speaks to the near-complete delusion that we're somehow friends which I have developed as a result of all of this letter-writing.) And then I got to thinking about my hand. Yesterday, while cleaning up my thanksgiving dishes, I cut open my hand on a knife hidden in the soapy water. My near-hysterical reaction notwithstanding it really isn't that bad, I'm fine and I didn't bleed to death (or even come all that close) but it still hasn't closed up. Today I showed it to a friend who is also a doctor, and she noted that I should have gone in for stitches. To be perfectly fair, I'm terrified of doctors, hospitals, and generally anything related to blood, bleeding, or medical attention. I probably wouldn't have gone in even if I did have insurance. The fact that I'm uninsured, however, was a significant factor in my decision just to take care of it myself. I'm really glad that you are OK and that you have access to the best healthcare we can offer in this country. But, just for a moment, I couldn't help but step outside myself and realize that if it hadn't been me but my roommates or my sisters or my friends who needed stitches and chose not to get them because they couldn't afford it, I'd be pretty upset knowing that money stood between them and basic care. We've both demonstrated rather clearly that these kind of accidents can happen to any one at any time and that having the option of medical attention makes a big difference (or at least, I'd imagine our respective scars will look fairly different in a few months.)

Anyway, I am glad that you are OK and that your black friday was spent doing something leisurely (at least before elbows were thrown.)

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 329- Thankful

2010-11-25T10:57:00.000-08:00

Kelsey --

When Michelle and I sit down with our family to give thanks today, I want you to know that we'll be especially grateful for folks like you.

Everything we have been able to accomplish in the last two years was possible because you have been willing to work for it and organize for it.

And every time we face a setback, or when progress doesn't happen as quickly as we would like, we know that you'll be right there with us, ready to fight another day.

So I want to thank you -- for everything.

I also hope you'll join me in taking a moment to remember that the freedoms and security we enjoy as Americans are protected by the brave men and women of the United States Armed Forces. These patriots are willing to lay down their lives in our defense, and each of us owes them and their families a debt of gratitude.

Have a wonderful day, and God bless.

Barack

Dear Mr. President,

Happy Thanksgiving. The e-mail you sent out to all of your supporters this morning made me think about the people in my life that I'm grateful for. Today seems like as good a day as any to thank them all.

I'm thankful for my family, who I don't see often enough. They are all wonderful and supportive and are doing/have done amazing things with their lives. They were my first and most important teachers and I love them.

I'm thankful for my friends, who are a part of my family. For my new coworkers, who, in making me love them, have made me love my new job. They are wonderful and unimaginably talented and so very welcoming. My friends around the world, especially those working with Peace Corps or the API and other volunteer projects, I appreciate them for spending thanksgiving away from home in the service of a better world. For all of my lovely, diverse, amazing friends in Seattle and around the country, who make my life so much better just by being in it (and who read these letters more than you do, Mr. President,) I am grateful. I am especially grateful for my roommates, my three adopted sisters who take great care of me and who prove that families come in many forms.

I'm thankful for all of my teachers and professors, the uncompromising courage of those academics who have inspired, encouraged and pushed me to be a better and more intellectually curious individual. From the elementary school classrooms of RuthAnn Wilson to the university lectures of Isam Ali, Keith Feldman, William Smaldone, and many, many others along the way I have become the person I am, have been shaped most significantly because of their guidance.

I'm thankful for those activists who are putting their lives and their safety and their freedom on the line to stand up for what is right. Marcy Newman, Diane Gee, George Rishmawi, every one at the US Boat to Gaza and so many others around the world who are fighting injustice at immense personal risk and cost. Too many of us are content to sit at home and hide behind our computer screens and blog angrily about injustice, while few among us have the courage to do whatever it takes to stop it.

I am thankful for those in the GLBTQ community, friends and strangers, who continue to struggle for basic rights to marry and to serve our country openly. I believe that one day our country will do the right thing by these men and women, but until then, I am grateful that they have not lost hope (or just moved to Canada.) Our country is better for our GLBTQ citizens and ought to do better by them.

I am thankful to live in such a great city, in a beautiful part of the country, full of artistic, adventurous, political people (who can't drive in the snow.)

I am thankful to live in a country where the kind of criticism I make of it every day don't land me in prison (or, at least, haven't yet.) Where I may speak out about the things we do wrong in hopes of making it a better, more just, place for every one. I am thankful to live in a country that can change, even if it it changes too slowly. I'm thankful to really every one who works for our country, for the military, the government, law enforcement and fire fighters and every one who tries to make this country a safer place.

I'm thankful for the Native Americans, who are too often forgotten on this day. Our country came about at their expense, at the cost of so many of their lives, and still they work to preserve the cultures, languages and traditions that many have tried so hard to wipe out. I'm grateful that they have not lost all hope in the face of overwhelming odds, and I am sorry that so many have forgotten.

I am thankful to you, Mr. President, and so glad that you beat John McCain. I'm thankful for the health care bill, for student loan reform, and other legislation you've passed, thankful for the political battles you've won and for those you lost (if not for those you gave up on without a fight.) I'm thankful that you haven't stopped trying, that you haven't lost faith, and that you continue to try to be a better President. I'm thankful that we elected you and I'm thankful that you serve our country even in these challenging times.

Thank you. (And thanks, all.)

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 328- On Turkeys

2010-11-24T19:39:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

Today you pardoned Apple and Cider, two turkeys who will be spared the Thanksgiving slaughter. Unlike most of the turkeys Americans will eat on Thanksgiving, these two were raised on a ranch with plenty of space to run around, and they'll spend the rest of their days in a petting zoo. But their less-fortunate, factory farmed, destined for dinner brethren aside, there is another glaring irony here. In your time as President you have pardoned 4 turkeys and exactly 0 humans. My vegetarian sensibilities about the relative value of human and animal life aside, I think this is a pretty embarrassing statistic.

While I appreciate the spirit and the levity of the traditional turkey pardoning, I would hope that, in the other 364 days a year you get to issue pardons, that you consider some of the many, many worthy human candidates. They may not be heading off to dinner, but many languishing behind bars in the American prison system are subject to unfair sentencing minimums, deplorable, dangerous conditions and are prevented from turning their lives around into something positive. I think that today ought to remind you of them.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 327-Love actually

2010-11-23T15:20:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

Classes were cancelled for me today, and all over the city, businesses, schools and bus routes were shut down in response to (generously) 2 inches of snow. I'll admit I love this about my city, our complete inability to function at the slitest freeze. It's a sad reality, but we don't often get weather like this, meaning that it is just more dangerous to be out. Drivers don't know what they're doing, the city doesn't have a particularly organized response, and the recognition of this danger by local officials and private employers is sort of refreshing. Instead of demanding that we brave the dangerous streets for class or work, they're just willing to put aside these interests for the sake of keeping more people safely at home. It's cute. And comforting.

My roommates and I are bundled up and trying to keep from turning the heat on as long as possible. (Being on the 5th floor helps this, but not much.) We've got both environmental and financial reasons for doing this, but, with temperatures heading to the teens overnight, I'm sure we'll have to give in before too long. We're watching Love Actually, a romantic comedy we've each seen dozens of times since it was released in theaters. (I'm still convinced this movie is the reason my mother suggested we spend Christmas 2006 in London, a trip I continue to be grateful for.) There isn't anything particularly special or profound about this movie; love conquering all is certainly not a new theme, and the cinematic wisdom of getting as many famous people as possible in one movie is questionable. But, no matter how many times we see it, no matter how many lines we quote at one another or how many songs Becca sings along with, we still love this movie. It brought us together, in a way, several years ago before we moved in together, when we gathered in their tiny studio to watch this movie and promise ourselves that particular Christmas would be good for all of us and our respective romantic interests. It was cold, the city teetering on the brink of what would later be called Snowpocalypse, a city-crippling storm that few Seattle natives had ever seen the equal of. But I remember that night and the intense, hopeful warmth that we shared as friends certain our lives could only get better if we believed hard enough.

The next day my life took a memorable turn for the worst, and snow began to fall. I can't help but associate my own downward spiral with the rapidly deteriorating weather. Even now, the very sight of snow and ice, the prospect of months of cold makes me fear another winter feeling alone and depressed. I have to choose to remember the good things- our store closing early and the staff having a snowball fight at Linda's bar. Trudging through snow to feed my mother's cats, only to have them cuddle with me by the fire in her freezing condo. Laughing with these girls before they were my roommates as we made light of the disastrous way things turned out. No matter how hopeless it seemed, it did get better. The snow melted. The city recovered. My heart mended. Getting through this winter may require that I remember this, and remember that no matter how bad things get, I still have my lovely friends.

With the country still suffering from economic depression and the prospect of the Holiday season too much for many families to handle, I hope that we all pull together and keep each other warm, keep each other sane and keep each other safe this winter. (With Republicans already set against extending unemployment benefits for those still struggling, this seems unrealistically optimistic, but whatever, Hugh Grant makes me think the world is not all selfish and terrible.) Putting others, especially those less fortunate than us, ahead of our own selfish concerns is really the kind of love that this holiday season is supposed to be about. I think that if we do that, we'll all make it through till spring in more or less one piece.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 326- Snow, again, and airport security

2010-11-22T13:36:00.000-08:00

MR. GIBBS: I’m saying that in order to address the most
up-to-date threats possible, we have instituted the very best in technology and in screening efforts in order to detect that threat.

Q And what’s wrong with the Israeli system, where they’re questioning before they even get close to the gate? Is that --

MR. GIBBS: I would point out that I think the Israelis have, I think, it’s two airports -- two international airports. I think that’s right. It’s one?

Q It’s one, I think --

MR. GIBBS: -- in Tel Aviv. We have 450. This is -- there is a scale that is -- and I’ve seen -- look, I’ve watched and read the stories of, well, can’t you just do what -- understanding the scale involved is infinitely different.

11/22/2010 Press Briefing

Dear Mr. President,

It's snowing in Seattle, reminding me that in the early days of this blog I often wrote to you about the snow on the East Coast. I guess that means the year is actually coming to an end. Whoever reads your mail is probably pretty happy about that.

This winter, the addition of new airport screening methods is causing quite a stir with holiday travelers. The invasive scans and pat-downs have been discussed with anger, mortification and no small amount of humor from those who have experienced them. When I saw the exchange between Robert Gibbs and the reporter suggesting that the US adopt Israeli airport procedures, I had to chuckle a little. He doesn't finish his sentence, but he seems to suggest that he's heard stories about Israeli airports that would make the reporter reconsider this idea. Having had my own experience with the security practices of the Tel Aviv airport, I found this whole thing (the reporter's naive suggestion and Mr. Gibbs' politically correct self-censorship) kind of hilarious.

I've long wondered how much Americans would put up with in the name of our own illusion of safety. Because an illusion is all it is. Some one will invent a bomb that can't be seen on the scanners, or a new way to blow up airplanes. And then maybe we will have to be given polygraphs before getting on board. The Israeli woman who stripped me down to my underwear and yelled at me for an hour didn't make any one on that flight any safer by doing so. I'm certain that she believed she did, and that the other security officials and the TSA scanners all believe they are doing the right thing. (Or at least aren't bothered enough by it to find other jobs.) So I'm not going to criticize them. They are the face (and hands) of the policy, but not the suits behind it.

I've seen a number of bloggers and commentators make the point that this is what the terrorists wanted. To scare us into ridiculous, invasive, un-American behavior. I have to say I agree with them. This method of random screening is just not effective. At my own job, I could search the bags of every person leaving the store to make sure they aren't stealing (or "randomly screen" one in ten bags) but I'd quickly alienate our customers and everyone- the store, the customers, and me, would suffer as a result. Instead, my coworkers and I look for behavior that is suspicious or for the faces of past offenders. We share information with other stores and they with us, and we work together to help each other prevent theft whenever possible.

I do understand that theft and mass murder are much different. Some one who gets away with stealing is easier to shrug off than some one who successfully blows up an airplane. But, for all of the security innovation since 9/11, time and time again, the factor most responsible for preventing attacks has been the awareness of other passengers and airline employees. I do not believe that the sacrifice of our freedoms (or our dignity) is necessary to keep us safe. It may make those of you in positions of authority feel better, as though you have minimized your own responsibility for any tragedies that might strike, but that doesn't sound quite as nobel when used to justify this suspect behavior.

For now, I'm going to go play in the snow and be grateful I'm not flying anywhere this holiday season. I sincerely hope you reconsider this policy, and remember that the erosion of our liberties is a far greater victory for those who seek to destroy this country than any loss of life could ever be.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 325- Murder and Masculinity

2010-11-21T19:19:00.000-08:00

So the question is this: when are we going to start awarding the Medal of Honor once again for soldiers who kill people and break things so our families can sleep safely at night?

Dear Mr. President,

I hope that you have not heard of Bryan Fischer, the moronic right-wing blogger for the American Family Association, but if you have, I'm sure you also heard about his recent lament about "the feminization of the Medal of Honor." Fischer, while acknowledging the heroism of Army Staff Sgt. Salvatore Giunta, cites Giunta's life-saving efforts as proof that we just don't reward killing the way we used to. While I, rather predictably, think this man is out of his mind, I was particularly surprised to see the comments on his original post. Without exception, the responses were negative, ranging from "I'll pray that you stop being such an ignorant person" to "You are actually evil and I hate you." A few even acknowledged the near-uniform blowback, pointing out that rage at Bryan Fischer is the most united the right and the left have been since 9/11. Fischer attempted to clarify his remarks (twice, actually) and seemed to genuinely believe that no one who actually understood what he was saying would be offended. But in all three posts, rewarding life-saving action (or not rewarding aggressive action,) was described as feminine.

The implication that killing is masculine and aversion to killing is feminine is really fine by me. As a woman, I have no problem with the heroic actions of (or the decision to honor) Staff Sgt. Giunta being described as feminine. However, it seems problematic to so closely link masculinity with the taking of life or the celebration of the taking of life. For one thing, most men in America would not qualify as "masculine" under this definition. Most men I know haven't killed any one and don't generally wish to see more of it. Perhaps I surround myself with especially effeminate men? I think some of my loss-prevention colleagues might object to this. I know a number of people (male and female) with really incredible numbers of killed aliens, zombies and other video-game creatures, but I don't know that most of them would meet Fischer's idea of traditional masculinity. Defining masculinity this way just makes it so much harder to feel manly in a world that increasingly frowns upon killing.

I'm not Christian, so when Fischer cites scripture as evidence that Jesus, even in crucifixion, was actually aggressively killing the forces of evil, I really don't have any basis to object. (Though I'm sure my Christian friends could probably find some problems with this argument.) My objection comes at the comparison of Christ vanquishing the forces of evil with US soldiers killing Afghan soldiers. Especially in light of a recent study demonstrating a vast majority of Afghans don't know about 9/11 or America's use of it as justification for war against the Taliban. We've been fighting for nine years against an enemy that has no idea why we invaded their country and killed so many innocent civilians. I just don't quite see the decision to take up arms against an invading army (especially when you have absolutely no idea why they are invading) as equal to the Dark Forces of Evil and Sin.

Which isn't to say I think we should do a better job of explaining to people why we're going to kill them before we kill them, but that maybe, just maybe, killing isn't the most effective way to keep ourselves safe. Maybe we're not only fighting the wrong enemy but fighting it the wrong way. I don't see there being all that much glory in the killing of some of the poorest and least-educated people on the planet by the most fearsome, best-quipped military on the planet. It certainly doesn't seem all that manly. And my family, for one, doesn't sleep any easier knowing it's being done. Would it be too feminine to suggest that maybe building schools and infrastructure and economic development might not have been a more effective way to make the world a little safer? I don't get to make these decisions, and neither do the men and women that you send to do all of the killing and dying that Fischer and his ilk see as so manly and Christlike. In that situation, doing your best to keep your fellow soldiers from getting killed certainly seems like an act of (completely gender-neutral) heroism. So I'll sleep tonight, grateful to Giunta and all of the other soldiers trying to protect their fellows in battle, because any one working for less death and destruction is pretty badass, in my humble opinion. I'll be content with the knowledge that most Christians (at least the ones commenting on the AFA website) think that Fischer is full of it. And I will wish for the promotion American concept masculinity based not on the destruction of life but the protection of it.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 324-Storytelling

2010-11-20T12:48:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

Lately I've been thinking a lot about the way we tell stories, and especially about the things the telling teaches about the teller. Most of the people in my life are storytellers. A number of them are writers as well, and tell their best stories without speaking. Others have to be heard, their tales never sounding quite right without their pauses, inflection and gestures. Regardless if they are speaker or writers, or if their stories are fiction or fact, I have a tendency to judge people by the way they tell their own stories.

Some (and I think I often must, unfortunately, include myself in this category) tell stories to impress. We talk about our achievements and often exaggerate (or selectively edit) details in order to cast ourselves in the best light. While I like to think I know when to stop short of bragging or outright lying, I'm sure this inclination is not as effective as I imagine it to be. When I meet a person who is the hero in all of their own stories, I tend to get wary about them. Honesty can be subjective, of course, but the compulsive need to be liked is always a dangerous indication.

Others speak with more concern for their audience than for themselves. A few of my friends have this astounding, uncanny ability to entertain or move or capture a listener with their (written, spoken, fictional or nonfictional) tales. They know exactly which words to choose, which details to paint, to craft their stories to elicit laughter or emotion or connection with whoever they speak to. I could listen to these friends for hours as they cast themselves as heroes, fools or removed observers, placing the telling of the story above the way it reflects upon themselves. The details of any given story are never as important as the way it is told. These are people I tend to admire, to seek to surround myself with and learn from.

One of my favorite storytellers outside of my circle of people I actually know is a writer for The Stranger, Paul Constant. Recently he wrote a piece comparing Tucker Max's memoir Assholes finish first with former President Bush's Decision Points. In it, he points out the self-aggrandizing way each man ignores the consequences of his actions and imagines his own heroics while, (with no small amount of sadness) also noting that Max, unlike President Bush, at least manages to muster the smallest amount of self-critical reflection by the end. Reading Constant's review and considering the way I judge people by the way they tell their own stories, I considered your own writing, and especially the way you tell your story to the American people. I have to say, Mr. President, that even when I do not agree with you, I always appreciate the way you explain things. Your honesty and self-reflection make me trust you, and I think that you have that rare ability to tell truth with more concern for how the audience will feel about it than how it will make them think of you. This sets you apart from your predecessor and also reminds me why you were able to reach out to so many people across the political spectrum.

I hope that when you get around to writing your own memoir of your time in the White House that you are able to do so with more self-reflection and awareness than President Bush. The story of your Presidency will not be about what you accomplished or what you decided, the battles you won or the times you were right. I believe that the telling, and not the tale, will be the most important and most revealing, even should events take a turn for the highly unlikely and leave you just as desperate to rewrite history as your predecessor.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 323- In-flight entertainment, death panels and superheroes

2010-11-19T12:35:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

While listening to my favorite song off of the new Kanye West album on continuous loop, I've been surfing internet news stories to find an appropriate topic for today's letter. While a number of stories caught my attention, nothing about them seemed significant enough to become subjects of a letter to the White House. What do you care about Superheroes patrolling the streets of Seattle? Or a couple getting married in the minutes their flight entered Canadian airspace? Or the way budget cuts in Arizona are resulting in low-income patients getting kicked off of lists for organ donations?

These stories so have something in common, and that, I think, is important to you. Or at least it should be. The theme today is about what happens when Government fails. My city government has failed to keep people safe. It's own budget cuts have prevented the manpower and training necessary for proper law enforcement. And so citizens with military and martial arts backgrounds are donning capes and masks, climbing in their KIA and fighting crime for free.

Your administration has failed the gay men aboard that flight, who cannot have their union legally recognized in their own country. You've failed to make this a front and center civil rights issue, to shame the opponents of same-sex marriage for imposing their hateful system of so-called values on the rest of the country. And so two citizens who want to commit to one another for life took to the skies, entered Canadian airspace, and wed.

And when governments fail, sometimes, as demonstrated by (but by no means confined to) the state of Arizona, citizens have no other option but early death. It is a tragic and unacceptable fact that in this country people die all the time from treatable conditions because they are too poor to afford treatment. It is a failure at all levels of government, and, while I should find solace and inspiration in the stories of those taking (criminal and social) justice into their own hands, I can't help but think about the cities cutting police officers (or unable to hire badly needed new ones) who don't have their own roving band of caped crusaders, or the gay couples who can't fly to a place where their marriage will be recognized. And while poverty will always exist, (and will, unfortunately, carry with it a much shorter life expectancy,) while people will always get sick and many will die when they might have been saved, that the wealth that might offset this disparity is concentrated in the richest 1% of our population is a difficult fact to ignore.

The government, as you are so fond of recalling President Lincoln reminding us, should only do for the people what they can not do better for themselves. I think the government is generally better at law enforcement. I think the government could bestow the basic rights same-sex couples deserve. And I think the government can ease the suffering of the poor and uninsured. But so many of us are still waiting for you to step up and show us how it's done.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 322- HIV/AIDS

2010-11-18T10:59:00.000-08:00

Hey all,

Today's letter is inspired by my friend and fellow blogger Joe, who wrote this inspiring (and upsetting) piece for The Body, a site dedicated to HIV/AIDS research, awareness and education.

Also,World AIDS Day is coming up on December 1st, so look for events in your area, or consider donating to a HIV-related cause.

Dear Mr. President,

I'd never met anyone that I knew to be HIV+ before I moved to Boise. My gender studies class required a service component, and I was assigned a volunteer project working with an HIV/AIDS awareness group to organize a World AIDS Day rally. (Specifically, we were asked to coordinate support from the local religious community, an effort that went about as well as you'd imagine in most of the ultra-conservative Idahoan churches.) My classmate and I made phone calls, gave presentations to religious groups, and, on December 1st, stood outside in a park with a local youth group, passing out candles and hot chocolate to a small crowd. We stood together, men and women, young and old, many races, gay, straight, HIV+, HIV-, Christian, Muslim, and Atheist. We listened to the stories of those who had been affected by HIV and we listened to those who confessed their shame at their own ignorance about it. We wore red ribbons. We remembered the dead. We prayed and we cried and we observed in silence.

When I moved to DC, HIV/AIDS was so prevalent and awareness campaigns so widespread that discussion caused considerably less controversy. Perhaps this was because DC is more progressive, or simply because it is more difficult to dismiss a disease as the sole property of an ostracized community when it affects your neighbors, your friends, your family and a staggering number of those you pass on the street every day. That my own life was not directly affected allowed me the luxury of forgetting that attitudes across the country are not so enlightened. That many still think of AIDS as either foreign or self-inflicted. That many still refuse to educate themselves about the stark reality. Years later, when my boyfriend's mother (herself a former nurse) warned her son away from me, claiming my tattooed skin put him at risk for AIDS, I was reminded that this lack of basic understanding was just as widespread in Seattle as it had been in Boise.

Ultimately I am lucky that I've only had one person treat me the way that people with HIV/AIDS are treated all the time. For all of my attempts to laugh off her ignorant remarks, I felt frustrated and angry that she would cite the mere risk of this disease as a reason for her son to stay away from me. But I didn't have to live with that feeling for more than a few days; I didn't have to live with that feeling while also balancing a fear for my own life and the frustration of my own failing health. I can't begin to imagine what that would feel like. Like most Americans, I don't think about it that often.

Today I was reminded by a particularly eloquent essay that many are not so lucky. Especially among GLBTQ youth and communities of color, even the search for a cure can come hand in hand with the worst racist, classist and homophobic practices of our history. HIV/AIDS awareness, education and research is important to all of us, even if its direct effect on our lives isn't obvious.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 321- A letter I will surely regret writing

2010-11-17T10:46:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

This morning my American Indian Law class had a guest lecturer from our University's law school. He gave an interesting talk on local water rights disputes, and I asked several questions, trying to place the local issues in context with the international water disputes I study in another class. After the bell rang and students lined up to shuffle out, I thanked him for the lecture. My professor began speaking to him and, before I was totally out of earshot, began telling him about me. As much as my ego enjoys overhearing complimentary descriptions of my academic abilities, I hurried out, knowing exactly what would have to come next. This professor, who has encouraged me to consider law school and who has praised my engagement in her class, does have a significant reason to be disappointed in me. I'm often absent from class for no legitimate reason. Her class is not unique in this respect- I have skipped many of my classes this quarter (and over the course of my long college career.) While I have often formed a close bond with professors, or at least a significant rapport, all of the most encouraging and supportive instructors have had the same complaint about my attendance.

For years, for probably my entire life, I have struggled with anxiety and depression. I won't blame my poor attendance entirely on illness, mental or otherwise, because there have been plenty of times when I just sleep too late to make it to class. More often, however, the idea of getting out of bed, or leaving my apartment, or even going through the doors of the classroom has just been too much for me. I will stare at my ceiling, or the door, and I will give myself permission not to go. I will try to rationalize this behavior, claim that I'm not prepared, or that I don't need to go because I've done the reading, but the truth is I often just can't get past the physical anxiety or despair.

As it is now, missing class is pretty much as bad as it gets. There have been times in my life, especially as a very young person, when my depression got so out of hand that I was not functioning at all. I've tried therapy and medication, finding little success with either. One constant, however, has been my inability to discuss these problems frankly, even with professionals. I'm usually the type of person who can narrate the struggles in my life like they happened to some one else. I'm pretty comfortable telling a perfect stranger about my last awkward crush, (partially because it makes for such a good story) but I won't talk to my closest friends about the way depression can paralyze me, make me withdraw and unable to do something so simple as get out of bed.

Part of my reluctance to talk about it is certainly related to cultural stigmas about mental illness. Once close friend who used to struggle with similar problems now works for the defense department and was refused a post outside of the US on the basis of her mental health issues, despite years of very successful treatment. Celebrities who come clean about eating disorders or suicide attempts are called brave, while a politician must carefully hide any hint of similar problems in their past for fear of being viewed as unstable or unqualified. I say I'll regret writing this letter because, even more than my radical leftist politics, revealing this aspect of my life to the unending memory of the internet is damning to any future in which I might wish to be taken seriously.

This isn't to say I feel I should be held to a different standard. Getting out of bed this morning may have been more of a personal victory for me than it would be for most people, but that's not all I'm responsible for, now that I'm awake. I have goals, and I have expectations for myself that have nothing to do with being depressed or not. I don't think that depression is an excuse for me to be satisfied with an ordinary life. Similarly, I think it is completely unfair that any one else would change what they think of me or my abilities because of it. As humans we all have our own struggles, our own challenges to overcome and our own disadvantages. If one of my challenges is to keep depression from affecting my academic performance, it certainly isn't my life's greatest, only the one I have been taught I must be the most ashamed of.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

PS

Our guest lecturer this morning mentioned that your administration, while more ambitious and better at communication than the previous administration, has failed to live up to your promises for improving Native American rights and addressing the social, economic and environmental concerns of many tribes. The Bush administration, he said, wouldn't give tribal leaders a meeting, flatly refusing most requests. Your administration shows up to the meeting, hears the concerns, and then says no. While this may represent a small kind of victory, it sounds to me like you're giving yourself too much credit for making it out of bed. Being better doesn't mean much when the bar has been set so low for so long.

Day 320- Friends

2010-11-16T16:34:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

Sometimes I find it strange the way friend have taken the place of family as the care takers in my life. I love the way they take care of me, and put up with me, and I appreciate them for it. I feel like many people my age have seen that transition from surrounding yourself with people you're related to, into surrounding ourselves with a family we get to chose. It is a strange kind of family, but, for the most part, we do OK.

My friends, besides being brilliant in their own right, tend also to have similar political values. I have a few libertarian or outright conservative friends, but I tend to avoid making new ones. I have no problem relating to people of other ages, races, or sexual orientations, but my political beliefs tend to exclude me from friendship with those who outright disagree with my political values.

I'm not a professional politician, and I'd say this polarization of beliefs would probably be much worse if I were. Avoiding those I disagree with doesn't help me, and it certainly doesn't help those whose minds I would attempt to change. When the photo-ops are over and the cameras and microphones have subsided, do you find yourself, honestly relating well to republicans? Do you have republican friends? Or do ideological divides determine your friendships, as well?

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 319-Another Dinner Party

2010-11-15T11:26:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

Tonight I had an unusual group of friends over who mixed surprisingly well. As I watched them from my (admittedly, slightly tipsy) view on the living room floor, I felt the happiness that usually sets in when I've spent an entire day panicking about something that has finally come to pass. There was enough food. People seemed to like the food. My room was still messy but not completely shameful. My gracious roommates, who has been warned that I'd be having a couple of people over, were not upset when almost ten showed up. One particularly appreciated guest even helped with the dishes. For all of my rushing around and worrying all day, things went better than I'd ever have guessed.

My friends are lovely people, each of them uniquely intelligent, and sensitive, and fascinating. Some I've known forever, others I'm only just discovering, and still I can't hear enough of their stories. Being able to work and associate with people who constantly interest and challenge me is one area in my life that I'm constantly grateful for. I suppose there is something to be said for the argument that all people have stories, talents, intelligence; it is possible that I could invite any random assortment of humanity and find something to learn from and something in common with any of them. But I like to imagine my friends are particularly special in their own ways.

I often worry that I do not learn enough, and especially that I do not learn fast enough. I could spend months or years getting to know the people I had dinner with tonight, and that's just a handful of the people I want to understand. Similarly, I could spend a lifetime studying the Middle East and it is just one region of a whole world I want to learn about. The thrill of appreciating just how overwhelming a task life can be is one I never cease to enjoy. (Though it does make me seriously wonder if Eric might be right about how much time I waste re-reading books.) I wonder if this is analogous to the feeling of leading the country. You hear from 10,000 individuals every day, and you'll never have time to know or contact or help all of them. You've got more than a dozen issues you could devote your presidency to and never fully solve. It's exciting and frustrating and awe-inspiring on a scale I'll likely never experience.

I think this is why I write you. You'll never know me, really, but if you somehow manage to read one of my letters, you'll know enough. And I'm sure that each of us 10,000 is interesting in our own way, but you've got enough people to worry about understanding, and way worse problems than a dinner party. I hope that you have moments like these, where, instead of being overwhelmed by it, you just stand back and appreciate the beauty of it all.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 318-It's not murder, it's a metaphor

2010-11-14T19:23:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

While reading an article about the way our brain reacts similarly to the literal and metaphorical feelings of pain and disgust, I cam across this passage about Palestine and Israel:

in a world of sheer rationality where the brain didn’t confuse reality with symbols, bringing peace to Israel and Palestine would revolve around things like water rights, placement of borders, and the extent of militarization allowed to Palestinian police. Instead, argues Axelrod, “mutual symbolic concessions” of no material benefit will ultimately make all the difference.

This got me thinking about the military aid offered to Israel in exchange for a 90-day extension of the settlement freeze. The terms of the freeze are largely symbolic; settlement construction could continue in East Jerusalem, the ostensible future capitol of a Palestinian state, and no extension of the freeze would be requested after 90 days. The objections to this plan from the Israeli right are largely symbolic, as well. It makes me wonder how much we'd be willing to pay for symbolism. 3 billion a year in aid? Unlimited cover at the UN? What about any potential future peace in the region?

The deal you've offered is trading just that. You've sent a message to the Palestinians that they have 90 days to make peace and after that they are on their own. No US support for Palestinian statehood unless it is on Israel's terms. No US diplomatic pressure to keep the settlements from expanding again in 90 days. The unconditional agreement of those new bombers, which the US will provide to Israel regardless of a peace deal being signed or not. It's an offer so good, it should have it's own infomercial. The unfairness of the whole situation, and the utter absurdity of the Israeli right balking at such an offer is mind-boggling.

Instead of settling for symbolism, why didn't you decide to leverage our special relationship for an agreement that would have practical results? It seems as though you'd settle for the illusion of progress so long as it makes every one (except, of course, the Palestinians) feel better and look good, rather than a less popular, more difficult long-term plan that will actually hold Israel responsible for curtailing settlement activity? Instead of trading away a guarantee to do everything in our (not inconsiderable) power to prevent recognition of Palestinian statehood by international organizations, why wouldn't we threaten to do everything in our power to support it, if Israel doesn't follow international law? I just don't understand.

I would never argue that this conflict is simple or that achieving peace won't be a complicated process. But when lives and homes and the basic human rights are at stake, we can't afford to sacrifice the protection of these things for the sake of symbolism. Water rights, housing demolitions, settlements and security are practical points of disagreement that must be addressed seriously and with respect to the needs of people on all sides. Instead you have practically increased Israel's capacity for violence and symbolically granted the political cover to wield it with impunity. Symbolically, and practically, this was a total failure.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 317- Eating Animals

2010-11-13T23:41:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

Today, after finishing a friend's NaNoWriMo project, I started reading Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer. As a life-long vegetarian, I'm not 100% sure why I'm reading this book. I won't claim more than a passing understanding of the horrors of factory farming, so I do recognize that I have plenty to learn from this book, I'm just not sure why I need this information. For one thing, i don't need to be persuaded that eating factory-farmed animals is bad. I don't eat animals and I go out of my way to avoid animal products that come from factory farms. Perhaps the information will help me persuade others to do the same, but I've never been comfortable with the kind of honest proselytizing that is really required to turn omnivores away from eating animals. (I did name the hamburger patties while working at Jack-in-the-box, but that was mostly in jest.)

As Safran Foer describes the sheer amount of land animals and fish killed each year to cheaply feed Americans, however, I can't help but feel like maybe I'm not doing enough. I can't reduce the number of animals I consume, so maybe I do have an obligation to try and persuade others to eat less, as well. Then I remember the intense anger many have had to government anti-obesity measure and even the Let's Move! campaign. People do not like being told or persuaded or guilted into changing their eating habits. My friend Eric gets angry when I even read the ingredient list on the processed product he calls food. Is my discomfort (or another person's indignation) at challenging the food choices others make greater than the suffering these animals face or the havoc such practices wreak on the environment?

I think that the reason the whole system seems so overwhelming is that people aren't willing to take responsibility for their part in supporting it. Very few people I know are ever directly exposed to the atrocious treatment of factory farm animals or the sea life destroyed in the process of fishing. And the glimpses we do get tend to be pushed aside. Safran Foer makes an excellent point while discussing our irrational aversion to eating dogs, despite the huge number of dogs put to death every year, because of our emotional connection with dogs. Why is this compassion extended to dogs and cats but not cows and chickens?

So much of our economic and social lives are tied up in the consumption of animals that I can't possibly ask you to suggest that the country eat less meat. It would be political suicide. But in your own life, in your own home, I think that's a decision you could make without any negative consequences. So I'm asking you, Mr. President, to decide as an individual, as a citizen, to cut back on your own support for the abuse, slaughter and environmental destruction caused by meat production. If you can't do this, I hope that you at least take the time to really think about your participation in this system, what it means to you and what it means to the animals, humans and to the environment.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 316-Really bad advice

2010-11-12T13:34:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

Today I saw an op-ed in the Washington Post by two men who claim to be Democrats who don't think you should run for re-election in 2012. (I say "claim to be" because there is some question about their actual party affiliation.) I should probably remind every one that I'm not a professional political operative. I don't exactly have the resumé to argue with these hacks. But I think this is just about the worst advice I've heard any one offer you in a while.

I don't think that removing yourself now from the 2012 campaign would, as these pundits suggest, force the republicans in congress to make concessions. I think that backing down now would be the ultimate sign of defeat. Republicans would sieze the opportunity to legislate like they controlled all three branches of government. And I don't say this as a political expert (which I am not) but as a girl who has only gone on first dates for basically an entire year (which I am.) I go on first dates, and sometimes guys just aren't into me, and sometimes I'm just not into them, and sometimes circumstances just aren't right for the two of us. But this doesn't mean I give up entirely on the prospect of dating or ever finding some one to love me. Some of your decisions haven't been popular, some of what the country thinks it wants (social services funded by magic instead of taxes!) isn't what you're able or willing to give and some of your problems are just circumstance.

Running in 2012 demonstrates that you're not looking to escape because it's hard. It is what separates you from Sarah Palin (besides, of course, your grasp of the English language, basic knowledge of geography, economics and history.) To give up would be to tell voters, for sure, that Democrats aren't cut out for leading the country during challenging times. I have no idea who these strategists are or why they are so deluded as to think that appeasing the unreasonable demands of republican leaders is the best way to secure bipartisan cooperation, but I sincerely hope they are not people who get taken seriously in any official capacity.

Mr. President, I have disagreed with many of your decisions as President. I have my issues with your policy compromises and many of your centrist ideas. But I would rather see you in office in 2012 than any Republican. I want to see you listen ultimately to your own values and instincts and not to opinion polls and political pundits, to govern ambitiously and unapologetically, and with the courage of your convictions. ( I would also like you to be able to govern for a while longer without having to worry about reelection, but that ship sailed.)

You've got my vote in 2012, sir. Of the two of us, you're probably the more likely to make the most of a second date.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 315-Veteran's Day

2010-11-11T21:24:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

Today we honor those who have fought and died for our country. I'm grateful for more than just the excuse to sleep in and miss class. I'm grateful for those who served in the armed forces, for the sacrifices they have made and the service they have done our country. I say all of this as an unapologetic critic of the wars we currently wage, the conduct of some of our troops therein, and of the military's anti-gay policies. I do not believe that my gratitude and my criticism are mutually exclusive.

On the contrary, I believe that the best way to support our troops is to never ask that they put themselves in harms way unless it is absolutely necessary. Unless our survival or our very humanity compels it. That we never put them at risk of torture by torturing our own enemy prisoners. That we never order them to kill in the name of an unjust war. I believe that we support our troops when we insist on allowing openly gay soldiers to serve. When we fully fund rehabilitation programs, health and especially mental health programs, education and employment opportunities for veterans. This is how we walk the walk of those yellow ribbons we wear.

I hope that today you reflect on the wars you inherited and the way they have been waged. On the kill lists, the interrogation methods, the civilian deaths that put our own troops at risk and destroy so many lives (and so many minds) on both sides. On the mistakes made, the mistakes perpetuated and the lies told to cover them up. I hope that you reflect on these things and conclude, as so many of us have, that our troops deserve better.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 314-Diplomacy or Professional wrestling?

2010-11-10T23:29:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

Weird things are happening. A few days ago I saw a headline that read "Obama leads world chorus against Israel plan for Jerusalem." I was surprised by the implications of this headline, but I sort of brushed it off as typical media sensationalism. Then I saw the Huffington Post article describing the way you "slammed" the settlement activity. I read over your remarks. Nothing about them evoked the image of a pro-wrestling move, or, for that matter, a chorus of condemnation. Calling the settlements not helpful isn't exactly strong condemnation, or at least not the kind that would warrant this sort of media language.

It is incredibly surreal to see the right wing and the Israeli Prime Minister criticizing you for being too tough on Israeli settlement activity when, from my perspective, you haven't said or done nearly enough. It's one of those stories told so consistently that it begins to make me doubt my own perception. I think it's also indicative of how unacceptable criticism of Israeli policies, (even international law-breaking, immoral, hypocritical policies,) has become in our national discourse.

I think what you said about the settlements in East Jerusalem was right on the mark. Especially while Palestinian homes are being bulldozed in the same part of the city, there should be no new settlement activity. Palestinian leaders have already demonstrated a patient commitment to this peace process, even in the face of overwhelming evidence that they do not have equal partners in the Israeli leaders. While Palestinians crack down and temper the extremists in their midst, Israelis are electing and empowering their own.

I know that you place a high importance on the state of US-Israeli relations. I just don't believe that true allies get this up in arms over such small criticism. The Israeli government is never going to make the tough calls necessary to a successful peace without strong urging from the US. I sincerely hope that your remarks indicate a toughening of our line against settlement activity, and a move away from the unconditional support that perpetuates and excuses the kind of oppression preventing peace in a region that needs it so badly.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 313- Life is weird.

2010-11-09T23:24:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

Lately I've had a number of conversations with friends about the kind of people we want in our lives, and the kind of people we want to be ourselves. It comforts me to know that other people also struggle with their own conceptions of themselves and their desire to see the good even in the deeply flawed. Over the last three days I've spent time with my mother and with friends long-standing and brand-new. I've been reminded of the things I've always loved about them, or come to realize their magnificent qualities, in the smallest ways. Waiting semi-patiently in a tiny lobby for a table at a restaurant I've wanted to try forever with my mother. Group high-fiving with friends as we enjoyed an especially successful kitchen adventure. Sharing meals, or cupcakes or a few pitchers of beer. I've been remembering these encounters in a series of moments that don't mean anything but just make me feel happy. Happier than I've been in a while. Happier than maybe I believed I could be while so many other things are so uncertain.

This sense of connection with the people in my life calms my usual anxiety about what I'm doing with my life and if I'm doing it fast enough. Goals are important, (and I have them,) but pausing to enjoy the company of the many, many amazing people around me is also important. Maybe even more so. My inclination to feel like I'm alone or, at least, unforgivably messed up and strange, is beaten back by the affection of these incredible friends and family who seem to like me well enough anyway.

With this sense of elation comes an intense desire to see the best in others. Even President Bush just seems to have some severe Mommy issues. Those idiots who post angry comments on the White House facebook page (please, for the sake of your own sanity, never read those,) are just lonely and desperate and frightened. All of my peers who decided not to vote (even the ones in Washington State who only have to mail an envelope) were.... Ok, that did it, I'm back to my cynical mistrust for all of humanity. (Thanks, young voters.) Some things are actually just inexcusable.

But as my friend today so wisely put it, life is weird. We try to do the best we can, to make the right choices and to find the best in people and to appreciate those we love. The strange and the complicated and the rare moments of contentment just make it all worth it. And while talking heads might try to claim your trip to Indonesia and India as an unforgivable indulgence of a desire to see Diwali celebrations, I would be so much happier if I could believe you were actually relaxing and having fun. Mommy issues or no, President Bush spent most of his time on vacation. I think you've earned a few weeks of physical distance from the frustration of domestic politics. Whenever I'm happy and content and particularly pleased with the people in my life, the one thing I want most is for every one else to feel the same way. That's something that not even the apathetic, fair-weather-activist, youth voters can ruin, either.

Life is weird. Isn't it great?

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 312- Quack. Quack. Quack.

2010-11-08T23:39:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

For all the prattle about the new agenda of the Republican-controlled Houe, the year isn't quite over. While the lame-duck session may be a short one, and subject to the unfortunate political reality of a weakened Democratic party, I hope that repealing DADT is given the effort it deserves. The support of Defense Secretary Robert Gates for such a repeal (and his sage urging that the repeal take place before the new year) should indicate enough will within the military establishment to pull off such a herculean task.

I suppose my usual cynical dismissal of the political courage of Democrats will kick in any moment, but I actually feel pretty confident about the prospects of a lame-duck session. From my perspective, the Senate has been governing like lame-duck senators since 2008. It seems as though there is at least the same chance of the repeal as there was before the election.

As usual, I believe that the Senate's action on this issue will be a direct result of White House leadership. Only Presidential direction and political influence will ensure that the Democrats are successful in this attempt. Coming through on this major campaign promise would be an encouraging sign to all of your supporters that, even after a loss like the midterms, you aren't giving up on the change we were promised.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 311- Another side of the story

2010-11-07T20:30:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. President,

While there may be a few who have forgotten why, exactly, so many of us disapproved of the policies of President Bush, I am certainly not among their number. The former President's recent publicity tour promoting his memoir has provided ample opportunity for him to remind us all why we were so glad to see the sunrise on January 20, 2009. I understand his need to tell his version of events, to make the case for his decision and attempt to persuade many of us to forget the things we knew. I have tried to give the former President the benefit of the doubt. I believe that his Presidency, for all of its many, many mistakes, occurred during some of the most difficult years in modern American history. (The role those mistakes played in said difficulties is certainly not inconsiderable.)

Still, listening to his attempts to defend his record is difficult. A man who basically avoided the press and refused to justify or explain any of his decisions while in office manipulating the incredibly short-term memory of many Americans (and especially of the media) is difficult to watch. I may be so upset that little short of a war crimes tribunal will actually satisfy my need to see President Bush answer for his crimes, but certainly the situation warrants more than the softball questions of Matt Lauer. I have to question my desire to see the former President interrogated. On a practical level, it would be entirely unproductive. No one tortured under his orders will be healed by seeing him answer questions. No one made homeless, injured or killed by the inept handling of Hurricane Katrina will be restored. No one laid off during the recession will be reinstated.

I think my desire to see President Bush explain himself comes from my suspicion that his worldview entirely justified the decision of his Presidency. Because I cannot imagine a world where what he did (and failed to do) is acceptable, I need to understand his perspective. And so, while I will not read his memoir, I will continue to follow his media appearances in an attempt to understand how, exactly, he sleeps at night.

One day, years and years from now, I hope that you will also write a memoir of your time as President. I enjoyed your first two books immensely, and I think that, even if I struggle with your justifications for the decisions I don't agree with, I will at least appreciate the quality of your writing.

(And I'm certain you won't go with quite so insipid a title, if only because it doesn't seem possible.)

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 310- Another poker metaphor

2010-11-06T22:23:00.000-07:00

I got a message this week I can't respond to. For all of my internal conflict over the decision to respond or not to, I know the right thing to do. But, in another life, with a different past, I know what I would say. And so, what I cannot say elsewhere I will say here.

Dear Mr. President,

On the day after election day, I started to hear a phrase tossed around to explain the disappointment with your Presidency and the Democrats' abysmal midterm performance. "Playing the cards they were dealt", the refrain insisted, indicating that a bad economy, high unemployment, or any number of political cards were the reason Democrats lost. As a poker player this metaphor rang falsely from the moment I heard it.

Because any card player worth their weight knows you don't play the cards you're dealt; you play the man across the table.

When Democrats lost this election it didn't feel, to me, like a problem with our cards versus theirs. Our positions, our issues, our records were better. We just got outplayed. Now, hearing, already, about compromises on the Bush tax cuts feel like the same tired tactics that have failed all legislative session long. Republicans are excellent poker players. They indicate a willingness to compromise, Democrats foolishly believe them and make concessions (and often lose the support of their base in the process,) and Republicans hold the line until they get what they want or no one gets anything at all. You'll push the definition of middle class to $500k a year or $1 million a year, and Republicans will ask for more. In the end, if you're very, very lucky, you'll get tax cuts renewed only on those making less than $5 million a year, but in all likelihood, they will be completely renewed.

Out-playing the Republicans now that they control the House means ignoring the cards we've been dealt. Ask for a bill renewing the tax cuts only for those making $250k or less or threaten to let them all expire. And veto anything in the middle. Raise or fold. Do not check. Do not call. Raise or fold. Forget about the polls, the media narrative, the conventional wisdom, and whatever other cards you think you've been dealt. Look at the man across the table. The question is not "is his hand stronger?" The question is always "can I convince him that his hand is weaker?"

Maybe gambling is not the most noble profession. And you might make the argument that governing is not a game, that people's lives and livelihoods are at stake. Ask any poker player going all-in with this week's grocery money- higher stakes require you to play well, not to play cautiously. The stakes are high. Forget the cards you were dealt and your moral objections to the way the game is played. Look at the (in this case, very orange) man across the table.

Mr. President, I think that your noble belief in bipartisanship is admirable. But I think it has to be on your terms. I also suspect you're a much better politician than you're willing to let on. You're facing two years of bleeding political capitol every round you lose until election day, or going all-in right now with these tax cuts.

The lesson here is that no one can control the cards they're dealt. Poker is, superficially, a game of luck. The reason that some people win the world series and others lose their lunch money is that good players learn to leverage what they can control; their own reactions, perceptions, confrontation. Good players know the cards change but the man across the table stays the same.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 309-Conflicted interests

2010-11-05T22:00:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. President,

I have mixed feelings about Keith Olbermann. On one hand, I recognize that he posses a unique combination of honestly liberal values and the courage to express them with pride. However he is prone to the kind of overly-sensationalized borderline hysteria that, I suppose, comes with having your own TV show and constantly trying to compete with FOX for viewers. I am uncomfortable being too critical of a reliably liberal voice in an increasingly conservative media environment, but I think, at his worst, Olbermann was nowhere near as crazy as Glenn Beck on his most rational days. That he has been suspended over personal political donations to candidates he used his show to support is ridiculous. I just cannot believe that $2400 had a more significant impact on the candidates' success, Olbermann's objectivity, or MSNBC's credibility than on Countdown's very public and very uncontroversial promotion of these candidates and their party every single night.

So, apparently, the tea-soaked trifecta of Bachmann, Beck and Limbaugh (among others) are perpetuating the demonstrably false rumor that your trip to India will cost $200 million per day (more than the war effort in Afghanistan- $190 million/day.) This would be funny if the implication wasn't so disgusting. The very idea that quibbling over the price tag of Presidential Protection is acceptable discourse appalls me, especially in the case of Michele Bachmann, as she actually holds public office. I know your trip is not going to cost $2 billion and require 34 warships. I know this. I just want to say, even if it did, I'd still be OK with it. The point is that this outrage and obvious lie was repeated in the right-wing media and then by actual elected officials. How is that not more damaging to the credibility of Beck, Limbaugh and the networks they represent than the personal donations of Keith Olbermann to candidates he publicly endorsed?

And, for all of his faults and missteps, Olbermann was quick to admit mistakes and issue corrections. (Reflection after Jon Stewart's Rally to restore Sanity caused him to suspend one of his show's most famous and inflammatory segments, for example.) Unlike the irresponsibly close relationship between pundits and politicians on the right, Olbermann's words were rarely, if ever, parroted by elected Democrats. (Sadly, many Democrats also lacked much of the courage he showed in speaking out against Islamophobia, homophobia and racism.) After such a tough election cycle I am deeply saddened by the loss of a political ally on the national stage.

I hope that your trip to India is safe and productive, no matter how much it costs. I'm sorry that this controversy may take attention away from the trip's important purpose. I hope that, even without the reliably, unapologetically liberal voice of Mr. Olbermann, you and other Democrats remember that being a liberal, even in the era of FOX News, is nothing to be ashamed of.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Hey all, check out what Rachel Maddow had to say about this.

Day 308- Bitch

2010-11-04T22:49:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. President,

While I'm certainly not going to win any prizes for equanimity, I'm not particularly short tempered. Being called "bitch" by a man, however, is perhaps the quickest way to trigger a really irrational amount of anger. So tonight, when a man trying unsuccessfully to steal from my store called me "bitch" I just about lost control of my temper. I won't claim it is at all the same level of offense, but I think this is the closest emotional experience I, as a white, straight, woman, will ever have to being called a racial or homophobic slur. There might be worse things to call a woman, but I doubt there are many words that have so frequently accompanied by physical violence. And while my female roommates and I may toss it back and forth casually, the sound of it in a man's mouth makes my skin crawl. Perhaps it's irrational, perhaps it's an unfair double standard, but I think there are some emotional reactions that simply can't be entirely logical.

Once I calmed down and dispassionately contemplated the incident, it was clear that the man was just trying to intimidate me. I like to think that, regardless of how it made me feel, I managed not to exhibit the kind of weakness he was hoping to find. While discussing the encounter with a female coworker, she recalled a similar incident with a man on the bus with her. "It just makes me mad," she said, "because he never would have acted that way if I were a man. I hate being seen as an easier target just because I'm a woman." Maybe it's because I'm three books in to a series that describes an actual war between armies of men and armies of women, but I definitely have felt what she's talking about. I want to walk down my street at any time of night (and in any length of skirt) without getting shouted at. I want to live free from those who would assume that my abilities and vulnerabilities are defined by my sex. For a moment I was caught up in that simplistic us versus them mentality that I so often dismiss as intellectually lazy. Then I thought about Michele Bachmann. And Sarah Palin. I remembered that no classification as broad or as simple as gender (or, to be fair, political party) is an apt indicator of friend or foe.

While the narrative about the role of female candidates in the most recent election cycle was repeated often enough to seriously grow annoying, i do have to appreciate the effects. I think we've come a long way from McCain's "beat the bitch" rallying cry against Hillary Clinton. Carly Fiorina and Meg Whitman and Sharon Angle lost, not because they were too smart or too assertive, or not attractive enough, but because they were not effective or qualified candidates. Their opponents beat them on merit- not on sexist stereotypes. Patty Murray and the other women who won their races demonstrated that a smart, dedicated candidate with a persuasive enough message and the courage of her convictions can prevail, no matter what gender.

When I came home tonight I saw this story about a mother who had to defend her 5-year old son's decision to dress as a female character for halloween. While her impassioned defense of her son's choice and condemnation of the judgement he encountered from the mothers of the other students was inspiring, the sad reality of her contention, "If my daughter had dressed as Batman, no one would have thought twice about it. No one" reminded me that being a man isn't exactly easy, either. I'm glad that I'm able to calmly and reasonably analyze this tendency I have to view all men as opposition, and hopefully overcome that immature prejudice. I would imagine that this is far from the last time that a man is going to call me bitch and I will have to walk away let it go. It will probably always make me angry. Still, I suppose I can take comfort in the fact that, even if I am kind of a bitch, at least I'm not a scrawny skateboarding punk who tries to steal hats.

And that's enough, for now.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 307- It's called a break-up because it's broken

2010-11-03T15:12:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. President,

So this morning my promised renewal of hope and optimism in the face of setbacks has not emerged. It could be that the demands of my school schedule this week have made "morning" a purely sunlight-relative term with little correlation to actual sleep. It could be the lingering questions as ballots are slowly processed in my home state. It could be denial, a malaise delaying the inevitable grief I can't yet allow myself to feel the full force of. I did like your speech today, and I thought you made several important points about the need to fundamentally change parts of our governing system.

I'm sure I won't be the first, last or most important person to say this, but I don't think this election means you should back down. Your agenda shouldn't change, shouldn't be compromised and should not be tempered. (Which is not say that compromise won't eventually be necessary.) Democrats should not give up on comprehensive energy, immigration, campaign finance and tax reform. For one thing, conceding too much at this point will only further weaken our positions once legislative battles really get underway. For another thing, i still think we're right; our policies are better, and our plan for America is the best one. Refusing to compromise our fundamental values is the only way to ensure that losing the house doesn't translate into losing the White House. This isn't to say that we shouldn't work with the Republican leadership, only that we should not be meek about demonstrating our goals and ideals to the American people.

A friend compared the way we feel this morning to the way we feel after a bad breakup. I think his metaphor is an apt one. After a break-up, you may re-examine your choices and your mistakes in the course of a relationship, but you don't change your identity in hopes that you won't get dumped again. Democrats need to work on our communication skills, our self-confidence, our willingness to assert ourselves. We might need to lose 5 lbs and reconsider our highlight strategy. Our wardrobe could probably use an update. But we do not change who we are, fundamentally. The things we believe, the things we value, all of the things that make us different from the opposition, those should not change. In the meantime, if you want to stay in bed and watch soap operas while eating chocolate ice cream in your pajamas for a day or so, well, you do whatever it takes to get through this. I know I will.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 306- Powerless

2010-11-02T22:31:00.000-07:00

or The end of the world as we know it.

Dear Mr. President,

Tonight the lights went out for two blocks. Our street, usually basking in the permanent glow of Seattle's urban heart, was plunged into unnatural darkness. My roommates lit candles and curled up under blankets in the central part of our apartment. For a moment we were reminded of how helpless we can be without the devices we've come to rely on.

Yes, I'm stalling, hoping to find a way to make this a more hopeful letter. I'd like to say that we learned an important lesson about unplugging, slowing down, connecting with the people we love or finding ways to be resourceful. We didn't. Desperate to follow election results and finish my last midterm, I fled to the familiar safety of light, heat and free WiFi. My roommates toughed out a half-hour of darkness and now we're all back to blogging, movie-watching and the more effective (if less-flattering) overhead lights.

We've lost the House. At home, Washington state residents have voted overwhelmingly to defeat an income tax measure that would have helped education and health programs. Rick Larsen and Patty Murray are still fighting close races that may not be called before the night's end. Rand Paul is in. Russ Feingold is out. California's proposition 19 is defeated. Across the country, small pockets of hope (Christine O'Donnell and Meg Whitman will not win their races) fail to dispel the gloom and powerlessness afflicting those of us who kept the faith despite every indication that we'd face a night like this one.

I know it isn't the end of the world; disappointment tends to leave me with more a flair for the dramatic than is perhaps healthy. But, as I struggle to return my attention to the 7th century nomads of the turkic empires, I'm going to allow myself this night to mourn our losses, to despair at the ignorance, short-sightedness and naked, pointless rage that led to these results. Tomorrow it will all be back in perspective and I will be hopeful and optimistic again. Tomorrow I will start lighting candles and hope that the factionalized democrats come back together, if only for the sake of warmth. Tomorrow I will worry about 2012.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 305-Man up for Midterms

2010-11-01T21:15:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. President,

I think if I read one more poll I will actually lose my mind. Whatever happens tomorrow is set in motion, and sadly I'm swamped with an entirely different kind of midterms. I can't read any more analysis. I can't consider any more predictions. If another Dino Rossi pop-up ad starts talking to me while I post this entry I will scream.

We're all going to get out of bed on Wednesday and go to work or school or breakfast. We will get through tomorrow and we will live with the outcome, no matter what. Or, at least, this is what I'm telling myself. Because Nate Silver might love numbers and polls and hypotheticals but he's making me crazy tonight. And the Huffington Post might be obsessed with absurd weather/natural disaster metaphors, but it won't do any good at this point. The most I can hope for tomorrow, is what my friend Ralph reminded me of earlier: that CNN has hologram people. Because an election night without hologram people on CNN is just not enough for me any more.

Seriously though, I've got essays to write and very little sleep in my near future or recent past. If any one who reads this hasn't voted yet, do so. (Also, why are you reading a political blog if you don't vote?) If you want my suggestions on who to vote for in Washington State, if you're in any way ambivalent about the Senate race, or if you actually don't care, please vote for Patty Murray. She's excellent, and Dino Rossi eats puppies and cheats on his taxes. If you're reading from out of state, I'm sorry you don't live somewhere cool enough to have mail-in elections, but don't let the weather, the lines at the polls, the annoying political ads, errands or apathy stop you from voting. Man up, America, and get out that vote.

Mr. President, I hope that we both survive our respective midterms tomorrow without too much of the suffering every one seems to be anticipating. Wednesday will come for all of us, and I think we'll probably make it there in one piece.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 304- Halloween

2010-10-31T19:02:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. President,

Tonight my neighborhood is alive with revelers. Halloween on Capitol Hill is more exciting than Christmas, and really any other celebration (except perhaps Block Party or Pride.) In a neighborhood where no one needs an excuse to wear costumes, All Hallow's Eve is on opportunity to pull out all the stops. And while some might disapprove of the troops of wildly dressed, raucous partiers, I think the festivity is uplifting. Even the increasingly skimpy costumes favored by the women of my generation, which I used to decry as anti-feminist and degrading, seem like harmless fun. After all, what better night could there be than this to celebrate the very thing that has terrified so many for all of human history, that plays villain in most major religions, the horror of a woman's unabashed sexuality? (And, to be fair, I know more than a few men giving sexy little dresses a try this year.)

While my roommate and I watch a marathon of creepy movies and I drink the first cup of coffee I've had all week in preparation for the inevitable all-night paper-writing session I have ahead, the shouts of a neighborhood somewhat drunkenly celebrating don't seem taunting or annoying, but rather festive. Our little black cat is curled up at my feet and our apartment is still covered in decorative cobwebs, carved pumpkins, and flickering candles. Small children are running around dressed as ghouls and tea party candidates gobbling all the waxy chocolate and high-fructose corn syrup they can stand. The busses are filled with Mad Hatters and Fantastic Foxes and every imaginable kind of zombie. No talking head is complaining about the lack of tradition or the over-commercialization of the day, warning us of a "war on Halloween." Halloween's great sacrement is to hold nothing sacred; to celebrate the depraved, the frivolous, the ugly.

It is cold but, for Seattle, an October day as dry and clear and full of bright fall leaves as this one is a rare treat. I spent more Halloweens soggily trick-or-treating under an umbrella than I care to remember, and I'm glad to know that this year local children will be spared our usual deluge. I should get to work on my midterm papers and stop musing about this lovely, spooky holiday I hope I'm never too old to appreciate. Happy Halloween.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 303-Love and Sanity

2010-10-30T21:41:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. President,

250,000 people showed up to restore sanity in Washington DC. In Seattle, and in cities around the world, satellite rallies were held by those who couldn't make the trip to DC. I don't know if this speaks to the mood of the country or merely to the size of Jon Stewart's fan base, but it certainly lifted my spirits. I feel like, no matter the differences between my views and each of theirs, the people at those rallies are my kind of people. It's nice to know we're not nearly as alone as many of us feel.

Sanity has probably been my number one goal in life for the last year or so. I spent so much of my life feeling like I was at the whim of my impossible to predict emotions and the equally confusing way others treated me. For me this has meant avoiding intense romantic relationships. Being in love has only brought out the worst in me. Witnessing the way it has had similar destructive effects on family members and friends hadn't done much to convince me otherwise. This year, as I've worked to figure out what it is I want from the people in my life, I've started to realize how much my political passions have always played a role in grounding me. When I was going through one of the more difficult break-ups of my life, campaigning for you helped keep me sane because it kept my life in a much more reasonable perspective. Once the campaign was over, I felt completely lost and, not surprisingly, basically lost my mind. Getting back to that sense of perspective through this project has been amazingly good for me. One of the best parts of this blog has been the way it has helped me find the people in my life who value me for my political passions and who support me even when they don't agree with me. And, as I begin to define what is important to me and what is important about me, I've begun to notice more and more examples of healthy relationships among my friends. Watching one couple today, who act like their remarkable affection and respect for one another is the most normal thing in the world (much to my unending puzzlement) I even began to imagine I might one day find that for myself. It makes me think that perhaps my cynicism came not from observation and experience, but was itself shaping my perceptions in order to reaffirm a belief I'd already held.

I think many liberals feel like we're constantly surrounded by crazy people. I feel like this rally offered an opportunity for many of us to realize we're not alone, that our outsider status was a product of our own cynicism and not a reflection of reality. We're not at odds with the rest of the country; we are the majority. The majority of this country is pro-choice, pro-gay rights, pro-reasonable regulation, taxation, and social services. There is more that unites us then divides us. The system frustrates us, the corruption and stagnation that prevent our country from fulfilling its promise and potential for good. I think that being told we're not the crazy ones will be helpful and inspiring to many on the left who have struggled for years to understand our place in a national discourse dictated by FOX news. If no greater good comes from today's rally than the reassurance that we're not outsiders, that we have a place at the table, well, I think it was probably worth inconveniencing really all of Washington DC for a day or so. Who knows, if I had managed to make it to DC, I might even have found myself a boyfriend.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 302- Emotional and academic

2010-10-29T22:29:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. President,

A few days ago my class was visited by an Israeli guest lecturer. I tried to go in with an open mind, especially because I knew the professor places a huge importance on human rights and is sympathetic to the Palestinian struggle for self-determination. Throughout the lecture, I found myself getting angrier and angrier. His attempts at objectivity were so obviously colored with the comfortable, academic detachment that I find so frustrating. Reducing events and issues that represent tangible suffering, blood, death and disenfranchisement to abstractions might lead to calmer discourse, but it doesn't do justice to the people not lucky enough to pretend it's all just an academic exercise. At the end of the lecture, he opened it up for questions and was gracious, if a bit dismissive, about my views on the unsettling rise of the radical Israeli right wing.

I fully admit that, for all of my academic energies devoted to Palestinian issues, I have a much deeper and much more immediate emotional reaction. I don't apologize for or regret this; witnessing injustice against real people is an emotional and not an academic experience. But I also recognize that my emotional reactions may not be as useful to those who are struggling with that injustice as some one else's more detached and rational response. It makes it difficult for me to listen to people like this professor make statements about his optimism for the peace process, so long as people let go of the "irrational" idea of a right of return. I've been to Dheisheh refugee camp and seen the way that refugee status still affects the day to day lives of my friends who grew up there. The idea that they have no claim to the homes their ancestors were forced out of, that their future aspirations can be swept aside and dismissed as irrational gives me a visceral reaction to the callousness of this detachment.

I also have to constantly question my role in all of this. Can I help, at all? I have to question how much of my desire to work in Palestine is fulfilling a selfish need to belong and feel useful, and how much is actually a desire to be part of the solution, an honest desire to fight injustice. Do I have the skills necessary? Is it enough just to bear witness, or do I have a responsibility to do more? I ask myself these things every day, as I discuss, explain, argue or learn more. And I don't have any answers; continuing the peace talks without a settlement freeze seems like political suicide for Abbas. A unilateral bid for recognition from the UN seems like it would lead to war. Discussing a one-state solution is tantamount to anti-semitism in modern American discourse, and even mentioning the role that Hamas might play in the peace process is enough to undermine one's credibility with so-called moderates from Israel and America.

I can't discuss these options without thinking about the tangible, personal way they will affect Palestinian people. Maybe that makes me a poor academic. I think that losing sight of the human cost of political decisions costs us our humanity, and I would rather keep mine than perfect a more dispassionate debate style. I think that the academic and political spheres need more compassion and more empathy, not less. Even if it makes certain lectures more difficult to sit through, and certain articles more difficult to read. That difficulty is nothing compared to the struggle of actually living with the bleak reality of the facts on the ground. You're well-known for your calm, cool approach to heated situations. I appreciate this about you, even if it at times frustrates me. I'm certain that, no matter how cool your exterior reactions may seem, these issues must affect you on an emotional level as well. Do you feel like the sheer number of problems around the world, the overwhelming amount of suffering causes you to become desensitized to it all? Or do you keep your emotions in check in order to keep every one else calmer?

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 301- Undecided

2010-10-28T22:45:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. President,

Tonight Rasmussen released another poll showing Dino Rossi pulling ahead. I'm pretty much in a state of panic, even as I continue to console myself with the frequent inaccuracy of Rasmussen's polls. Paul Krugman's Op-ed isn't making me much calmer. I'm terrified of the results we'll find on election day, and even more so of the resulting legislative agenda. Keith Olbermann's recent comment on the Tea Party articulated the fears that many of us on the left are experiencing this year.

But polls and pundit comments aside, this midterm should have people scared. Every election, about this time, I start marveling at the very idea of undecided voters. I feel so strongly about politics that I can't even date Republicans; and I may not be able to stand them, but I at least respect the passion that I see in my friends on the right. It is undecided voters, swing voters, people who seem to change their entire value system (or not understand how that value system is represented by their vote) every 2-4 years who confuse me. It baffles me. How can a voter who clearly understood the problems with the Bush administration (and the candidates who wanted to continue them) just two years ago suddenly be confused about who to vote for? It seems to me that the center has long been controlled by the most willfully disengaged, and the fact that they're the ones who get to decide so many elections frustrates me to no end.

I don't think that congressional Democrats are entirely blameless. Between the cowardly ones who are now running away from the party's agenda in their ads, and the cowardly ones who never had the guts to defend that agenda in the first place, it is really difficult to see why Democrats are a viable alternative to the bad ideas of Republicans. While I don't think that a disillusionment with Democrats justifies a vote for Republicans, unfortunately the two-party system (and the increasing similarity in the way the parties take money from corporations) leaves many voters feeling that this is the best solution.

Personally, I've been proud to be a Democrat lately. Watching you and Senator Murray and Governor Gregoire speak, meeting President Carter, watching you make such a compelling case for your administration's accomplishments on The Daily Show last night, all of it has restored the pride I thought I'd lost in my party. I hope that the predictions and the polls are wrong. I hope that Democrats get two more years to prove that we're not completely spineless. Because, as much as they confuse me, we're probably going to need those undecided voters in 2012.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 300- 2 Presidents

2010-10-27T22:30:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. President,

Tonight Jimmy Carter came to my bookstore to sign his latest book. The excitement I felt at your visit last week probably can't be matched, but this came pretty close. It was an honor to have President Carter, of course, and worth every inconvenience that comes with secret service protection. Of course, (and I'm sure you're used to this by now) any high-profile visitor tends to draw out the craziest and most desperate people in the area. Tonight was no exception. One woman brought a 17-page letter and followed a Secret Service agent out to his car asking if the President would really read it. I won't lie- it was hard not to see a little of myself in her. I may never have written you a 17 page letter or hounded you (or your agents) in person, but I can empathize with that desire to be heard.

So now I've seen two Presidents in one week. The purpose of the events were vastly different, of course. You came to get out the vote, President Carter came to sell books. It would be unfair to compare the two events, of course. Still, for some one who observes the Presidency from such a distance, it was a thrill just to be in the same room. I really hope that I don't seem as crazy as that lady at my store tonight; I'm sure that she had valid reasons for her letter and her persistence, even if her tactics were probably not the most reasonable.

And with that, I think that I'm going to try and get some sleep before class. It has been an exhausting week, for all of its thrills.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

PS- Readers! Check out President Obama's interview on The Daily Show ! Sorry my last two letters have been a bit on the short side, I should be back to normal by tomorrow.

Day 299- I-1098

2010-10-26T18:55:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. President,

Tomorrow I'm going to see President Jimmy Carter. While I assume that it will involve less screaming and cheering and sleeping on the ground than your rally here last week, I'm going to be prepared, all the same. Tonight my mother dropped off my ballot. Aside from voting to re-elect Patty Murray and Jay Inslee, Washington voters are facing a number of important initiatives. I-1098, a proposal sponsored by Bill Gates, Sr., proposes a state income tax on those making more than $200,000 a year. Since I make about $20,000 a year, you can imagine I'm pretty enthusiastic about this.

Washington State has the dubious distinction of having the single most regressive tax system in the country. While those making under $20k pay on average 17.3% of their income in taxes while the richest 1%- those making more than $537k, pay just 2.9%. I-1098 will work to improve this discrepancy and provide the state with much-needed revenue. I think, also, that there is a moral obligation for those who have money to help out those who do not. Call me socialist, call me a class warrior, call me whatever you will, but if I made $200k instead of $20, I would have no problem paying the taxes to make sure the roads, schools, police and other state services are fully funded. We are all served by these institutions, and holding on to the cold comfort of private wealth in the face of so many others struggling just to get by strikes me as the worst kind of callousness. (Washington State readers of my blog- please vote yes on 1098.)

I'm going to cut this letter short so that I can finish voting and get to bed. Thank you, again, for coming to Washington to help get progressive voters to the polls. For a reliably blue state, we're struggling this year to pass the measures and elect the candidates that our state will need. Thank you, sir.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

PS

All readers: If you have your ballot, fill it out and mail it in! If you live in a state without early or mail-in voting, please make a plan today for how you will vote on election day. Yay for voting!

Day 298- Guilty and not guilty

2010-10-25T20:02:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. President,

Omar Khadr pled guilty today. I understand that this plea bargain is his best hope for getting out of Guantanamo Bay and going back home to Canada, but it is still heartbreaking to think about the punishment he will face. You know Khadr's story. I do not need to tell you that he was 15, just three years older than Malia, when he threw a grenade that killed a US soldier. I do not need to tell you that he acted as instructed by his father and the other adults in his life. I do not need to tell you that he was seriously wounded, detained, tortured, and threatened with rape to compel his confession. I don't think I would need to see so many parallels between my own life and Khadr's to be horrified at the way my country has treated him, but while reading about his case I could not help but notice something about the day he was captured.

On July 27th as the 15-year old Khadr was shot, blinded in one eye, and taken in to US custody, I was in a cemetery. Right around noon, before it was late enough to really be called hot, a pickup truck came to a stop on the path near the grave I sat beside. A man I had never seen before got out, and walked over to where I sat. In one hand he had a small handful of vegetables from his garden, I think that they were radishes. He laid them at the gravestone and mumbled something to me about how they had been his nephew's favorite. His nephew, dead more than six months, would have been seventeen that day. I remember there was no accusation in his voice, only sadness. Looking back, I am sure he felt as responsible as I did that Josh would not be celebrating that day, that those of us in his life who were supposed to care for him had failed. I could not, in my own grief, conceive of what was then happening in Ayub Kheyl, Afghanistan.

Omar and I are both 24 now. While the last eight years of his life have been the stuff of nightmares, mine has been fairly average. Perhaps it is our age that makes me wonder so intensely at the very different courses our lives have taken, or the lingering idea that we are both, to varying degrees, responsible for the loss of a life. But I cannot imagine the darkness of his existence, the suffering, the confusion, the fear. I can't begin to put myself in his place. I am no stranger to the harsh reality that there are many my age who are suffering, who have led difficult lives and who will face obstacles and tragedies that I am exempt from because I was born in a place of relative privilege. Is it childlike, then, to wish that Omar had gotten to graduate high school, go to college, to have all of the opportunities I have? To fear that, if he is to spend the rest of his life suffering in payment for his worst mistakes as a fifteen year old child, then I must, as well?

If it is my empathy that disinclines me to believe the charges against Khadr are valid even after he confesses to them, I can accept that. Even if I am entirely wrong, even if Khadr is guilty of every single crime for which he has been accused, I still do not believe that he has been treated fairly or in a manner worthy of the American justice system. While I have no shortage of sympathy and compassion for the soldiers injured by Khadr or the family of the soldier killed, I do not believe that their suffering is eased, or that others like them are made safer, by the harsh treatment suffered by the child responsible. I think we are all just a little guiltier today as we stand by and allow atrocities like this one to continue in our name.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 297- Israel and the rest of the world

2010-10-24T21:07:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. President,

Eric Cantor has proposed separating US aid to Israel from the rest of the foreign ops budget. Israel already receives an obscene amount of aid, especially in comparison to the rest of the world, and Cantor's proposal is clearly an attempt to safeguard that funding while Republicans seek to cut or abolish aid to other countries all together. Funding a wealthy country's brutal occupation (and insulating the taxpayers of Israel from the true costs of their government's policies) is clearly a high enough priority that Cantor and other Republicans have realized they can't go after foreign aid without safeguarding Israeli aid.

Your administration has already promised $3 billion a year to Israel in aid- a decision I have objected to often enough to accept that we're never going to see eye to eye. However, I believe that you, like me, want to see the aid we send to other countries for agriculture, infrastructure, health and education projects increased, or, at the very least, maintained. If Cantor is successful at disentangling the Israeli aid from the rest of the foreign ops budget there will be nothing to stop Republicans who would see it cut. Foreign aid represents about 1% of our budget and places us well below most developed nations in terms of the amount spent as a percentage of GDP. Jeopardizing this funding further by distancing it from the most politically acceptable segment of our foreign ops budget will not improve America's image abroad, it won't help us to reach the millenium development goals and it absolutely will not make American's safer. As much as it disgusts me to admit this, the stigma against backing off on our support for Israel does help protect the rest of the foreign ops budget. And while I have no problem admitting that I would be happy to see our aid to Israel reduced and even outright suspended, I do not wish to see the rest of the foreign aid money affected.

I think that there are a number of improvements that might be made to the amount of money we spend on projects abroad, and the way that money is spent. Given that my own views are so far outside of the mainstream, I don't expect, realistically, to ever see them in practice. And so expediency compels me to compromise. If we must continue spending $3 billion a year funding Israel's oppression of the Palestinians, we should at least also continue funding the education, infrastructure and health projects in developing countries around the world, as well. Dividing the appropriations imperils the funds that would go to nations unable to lobby congress as effectively as Israel. I hope that you do all you can to see that Cantor's proposal does not go into effect.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 296-Wikileaks (again)

2010-10-23T20:51:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. President,

As the revelations from the latest documents released by Wikileaks continue to come to light, I am having a difficult time feeling surprised. I have to say that the outrage and shock being feigned in the mainstream media upsets me, deeply. It is indisputable that the Iraq war has been waged with unprecedented levels of secrecy. The Bush administration went out of its way to hide the truth behind record levels of private contractors, sweeping new executive powers, and an outright refusal to discuss the Iraqi death toll. What, exactly, did every one think they were hiding? Unicorns, perhaps? A modern President (and I am by no means excluding you from this indictment) doesn't keep secrets unless they are damaging. All of this secrecy was achieved with the tacit approval of the media. There is no way that I, an amateur observer, could have surmised these human rights violations and outright war crimes could have been perpetrated while the mainstream media had no idea. The evidence has been out there all along, and the fact that it took this long to come to wider attention is a shameful reflection of the sorry state of the American news media.

I don't believe that war can be waged without these kinds of abuses and atrocities. This doesn't excuse them; it only, to my mind, demands that we not wage war unnecessarily. The Iraq war was absolutely unnecessary. So while Americans recoil in horror at 104,000 dead, millions displaced and hundreds if not thousands of tortured, mistreated prisoners, I can only sit back and wonder what else they possibly could have expected? In 2003 while our President skipped off toward Baghdad the media and the majority of America stayed silent. The blood and the death and the suffering that ensued came as a direct result of that silence. This country has lost the right to feel surprised when it comes to the crimes of the Bush administration.

Meanwhile, you, Mr. President, have lost the right to lay the blame solely at President Bush's feet. Had our government conducted itself the way we have every right to expect that it should, or had the media investigated and reported with anything resembling a commitment to the truth, Wikileaks would likely not exist. If you want to be angry about this latest release of documents, I suppose that is your prerogative, but the real tragedies in this are the crimes committed and largely ignored, not the fact that some one finally had the courage to bring them to light.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 295- It gets better

2010-10-22T21:26:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr President,

After I wrote you yesterday I saw the video you posted for the It Gets Better project. I thought it was sincere and very moving. The IGB project is close to my heart because it was founded by Dan Savage, who lives in my neighborhood and, despite his national celebrity, reamins active in and committed to the Seattle community. I've seen IGB videos from close friends and coworkers, beloved celebrities, complete strangers, and now the President of the United States. In a world where I often feel helpless and even hopeless about so many things, succumbing to the belief that there is nothing I or any one else could do to ever make it better, the IGB project feels refreshingly practical. It is a tangible way that any one who has struggled and overcome can reach out and speak to young people struggling now. I can't change the cruelty that children will face from bullies, or from our society, and maybe none of us can, as individuals. But that so many people took the time to put themselves out there, to reach out to people they may never know is truly inspiring.

I am sure there are kids out there who will see these videos and will find strength in the support of those who made them. As a teen who struggled with depression, and as a person who knows what it is to lose some one to suicide, I am so grateful to you for putting the weight of the Presidency behind this important project. Thank you so much. There will always be problems that are too complicated to fix, issues that are too complex to have an absolute right. This is not one of them.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 294- Six more years

2010-10-21T21:08:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. President,

My throat hurts and I haven't slept for more than fifteen minutes in a row in almost two days. At 4:30 this morning my friend Casi and I boarded a city bus toward the U-district and gleefully informed the driver we were going to see the President. He laughed and told every passenger that he picked up after us that we'd be the first girls in line.

We were not the first in line. Defying cold and campus security, several dozen others were already waiting when we arrived. We huddled together and tried to sleep on the cold sidewalk but we were shivering too hard. We talked to one another, to the strangers ahead of us and behind us in line, about the rules, about the cold, about nothing coherent at all. We became B-roll. We were joined by other friends, we waited in the only open cafe for warm drinks paid for and abandoned before we could drink them when, unexpectedly, the line began to move forward. We waited longer, bemoaning the lost beverages and looking enviously at the the red-ticketed VIP line and, yes, even the ADA line. It was cold. We were tired. We had driven all night long to get back in time.

FInally the line moved inside. By the thousands we came inside, to the heat, to the light, to the comfortable seats. Volunteers herded us, heedless of our desire to sit together, asking only "can you stand for 4 hours?" We exchanged looks. On a good day? No problem. On no sleep in aching feet and still shivering? We took our seats in the stands, happy to settle in an unobstructed view of the podium. I folded myself in half, curling into a stadium seat to try and sleep a few more minutes. No such luck. The choice between making the whole exhausted row stand up to leave through the non-VIP exit to the bathroom or arguing with the indignant volunteers at the VIP door seemed hard at first, and then, no choice at all. A gospel choir took the task of warming up the cold, exhausted crowd. God Bless America. Beautiful words and voices made up for my usual discomfort with religion. We sang, we started the wave and the enthusiasm rolled around the crowd for more laps than any baseball game.

On stage, a series of successively more powerful leaders took to the podium and said the same things. Excessive references to Husky football victories (stretching back decades to justify the pluralization) made me wonder if Congressman Inslee believes college kids think of the whole world as a football game or if he does. Gradually, our governor and senior senator restored the gravitas we expected, reminding us how far women in our country have come and how well women in our state have done by comparison. The secret service took the stage to check the podium, their earpieces identical to the one I wear for work. We knew what came next.

My voice was already sore, but you took the stage and we didn't stop screaming for seven minutes. I've never been in the same room as the a President, before, and there you were, walking across the stage with Senator Murray's head bobbing just below your shoulder despite the help of 3-inch heels. I have written you every day for 293 days and, though you do not know that one of the fifteen-thousand voices is mine, I believe that when you look my way and wave, you see me. Every one in the auditorium believes that they are seen. You are seeing one shimmering swell of enthusiasm that will bridge any gap. It does not matter that we waited in the cold, or that attendance meant skipping the third day of classes in a row for some of us (classes we can by no means afford to miss; the price of free admission.) We are points of light too small for you to perceive the distances between us, the gaps that define us and make us individual bulbs. We are one bright shine, a stadium full of sound and waiving hands and the consuming emotion of the moment.

They said we can't elect a black man with a funny name. You shouted.

Oh, yes, we can. We shouted back.

And we kept our feet, we kept our voices raised and our hands clapping until my palms were purple and my throat was raw with the damage of sheer sound. Cameras flashed, hands of the lucky red-ticketed VIP were shaken, and, delirious with joy, I wanted to hug Reggie as he collected letters and gifts of goodwill. Elated, we tumble outside, a crowd no longer, and walk home, walking that path from the University to Capitol Hill, the same streets we flooded on election night two years ago, the same joy, the same calls from neighbors and perfect strangers asking for our account of your words.

A shift at work later, still sleepless, I am sobered by exhaustion and the return to my routine. Check in on my secret-service earpiece with the rest of the team. Blend in. Be quiet. Look for thieves. One foot in front of the other; tech center, fiction, main floor, basement. Repeat another staircase with the help of another Americano. It hurts to speak. It hurts to breathe. I have barely slept, I have homework due in less than 12 hours, and I can't afford to miss another class all quarter long. Casi has another 100-mile drive home.

And all we can keep saying to each other, to any one who asks, to ourselves is the same thing; it was worth it. I'd do it again. Let's do it tomorrow. Tangle traffic on Montlake and bring the commute to a halt. Re-assemble the metal detectors and get the secret service dogs back on their leads. I would do it all over again, to hear you speak. Even just to hear, again, the same old car metaphor, with the ditch and the mud and the keys. When you want to go forward, you put it in D.

I might be crazy and half-dead with joy and exhaustion, but you will have my ballot and you will have my vote and if I can help it, you and Senator Murray will have six more years and Seattle will have more happy floods in the streets.

Six more years sounds great to me.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 293- Hypothetical questions

2010-10-20T12:21:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. President,

You're speaking at my school tomorrow. I don't think you'll be taking any questions from the audience, and, if you are, it is unlikely that I'll be lucky enough to ask one. Still, I thought it might be useful to pose a few, even if they are about as practical as shouting into the darkness and waiting for a response more coherent than another spinning echo.

Mr. President, you say that the Republican partisan minority is holding up the legislative process through the filibuster, when not a single filibuster has been staged during the legislative session. Why have you not directed Democratic leadership to force the Republicans to follow through on their threats and given the American people a clear demonstration of who is responsible for the hold ups?

Mr. President, your political opponents seem determined to paint you as anti-Israeli no matter what you do. If nothing will please them, why not take an actual stand against the brutality and injustice perpetrated by the Netanyahu government? You could increase our credibility as an honest broker in the peace talks and make a stand against human right violations, a seeming win-win, considering the political capital is going to be spent either way. So why not change the tactic that hasn't worked for any past American President trying to help create peace?

Mr. President, you've made the convincing argument that allowing Republican's control of the legislative branch will return our country to the disastrous policies of the bush era. While this "lesser of two evils" tactic might convince a few independents, why have you risked alienating the liberal base of the democratic party by dismissing our legitimate complaints about policy compromises that represent real hardship for real people as "griping and groaning"?

Mr. President, when Republicans lost control of congress and the White House in 2006 and 2008, the party soul-searching that followed led to a dramatic return to the angriest voices of their far-right base, the Tea Party. If liberal Democrats want our elected officials to stand up for our beliefs and interests, will it take the same kind of losses in November and in 2012?

Mr. President, the wars in Iraq, (in all but name,) and Afghanistan continue. Guantanamo bay remains open. How can America lead the world toward peace and a greater respect for human rights while we continue these immoral (and, I would argue, strategically failed) efforts?

Mr. President, at a town hall meeting not long ago, you were told by a woman that she was tired of trying to defend you to those who had lost their faith in you. I, too, am tired of being disappointed and tired of being ignored. I believe that your job is more difficult than any one in this room can possibly fathom, and I am certain you are even more tired and even less prone to complain about it. I will continue defending you, sir, I have not lost my faith. Thank you for all that you've done for our country, and please, don't confuse my constant (and continuing) criticism of your policy for cynicism, apathy, or betrayal. I still have hope that you can do better, that you have the right idea, and that you need a supportive, open-minded and informed electorate. So I guess I don't have a questions as much as I want to say that as disappointed as I am in you, I'm way more disappointed in the rest of us.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 292- Superheroes and soup

2010-10-19T18:21:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. President,

Growing up I often wished I could be Catwoman. The fact that she's kind of a villain never bothered me. She was a cat. That was cool enough. I'm still mad that my mother wouldn't let me go see Bat,am Returns. (Never mind that I was 6 at the time and probably would have had nightmares. Totally irrelevant. That's right, mom, I know you're reading this.) I certainly can't claim the same level of childhood fascination with superhero mythology that most of my friends can, but I have a healthy enough appreciation for the world of superheroes that I was pleased to see the Islamic world is sending us 99 more. I was even happier to see you recognize this effort to present an alternative face of Islam to youth of this country and, perhaps just as importantly, to Islamic youth.

Predictably, the racist, bigoted radical right has problems with this. Lots of problems. Hilarious amounts of problems. So many problems that Muslim superheroes are now a bigger threat than Campbell's soup. Can Pam Geller, Robert Spencer and all of their ilk just give up the charade and admit that they don't like Islam in any form? Because superheroes and soup are pretty harmless things to start with, and making them halal isn't going to lead to the Islamic Republic of America. My favorite quote of all this hysteria is from Carol A Taber, president of Family Security Matters who says

It was Vladimir Lenin, the founder of the Bolshevik party, who said, "Give me four years to teach the children and the seed I have sown will never be uprooted." The election of our dhimmi president guaranteed the forces of radical Islam at least four years to sow their seeds

Hilarious. The level of backlash to these 99 superheroes (each named for one of the 99 attributes of God,) and the dogged insistance by the right that you are advancing a radical Islamic agenda would be funnier if it wasn't so catching among voters of a certain political persuasion. Because people who believe that you're helping the terrorists or that you're a secret Muslim or that Campbell's soup supports Hamas and the Muslim Brotherhood unfortunately are just as good (and sometimes better) at making it to the polls on election day as those of us who know this is all absurd, and that is frightening. I don't know how to change their minds, I don't know how to talk to them, I don't know what the answer is for dealing with people like that. I like to think charitably, that every one is generally reasonable and good and trying to do the right thing. And then I read the news.

How do you maintain your faith in the American people when faced with the overwhelming influence of people like Taber and Geller and Spencer and Beck? Have you kept that faith intact these last two years?

If you have, I think the only rational explanation is that you must have some kind of superpower yourself.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 291- $423

2010-10-18T23:03:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. President,

I just read an article on the cost of retail theft- which is, apparently, down in 2010 from 2009- and averages out to about $423 per family. This kind of makes me feel pretty awesome, not because I enjoy paying more for things because of thieves, but because I like to think I play a tiny, tiny part in making that number smaller. Especially recently. For the first few months working at my new job, I felt almost entirely useless. In the last few weeks, however, I've had some success and, with a lot of help from my coworkers, finally feel like I'm making some progress. I suppose every one just wants to feel like the work they do serves some purpose. I don't imagine I'm unique in getting a thrill at seeing my profession mentioned on CNN, or that the work we do is on par with the work of real law enforcement, but it is nice to know that we make a difference, too.

The comments posted on the article are sort of amusing. Plenty of angry commenters suggest that, in this economic climate, theft is a sane and rational response. I've encountered this mentality before, especially while working for a large corporate bookstore. Stealing from businesses (seen as wealthy) is OK, because they can afford the loss. I hear it still from thieves who shoplift while also making a purchase, citing their perception of the inflated prices as justification. (Pointing out that theft causes price inflation doesn't often have much persuasive effect in these casses.)

This bizarre rationale always makes me angry. It isn't corporate CEO's who are getting shoved, struck and even stabbed by the more violent shoplifters, it's me, my coworkers and people like us who are probably just as poor (or even more so) than many of the shoplifters. If there is one thing my job has taught me it is that everyone steals. Rich, poor, middle class. Black, white, or any color. College kids, housewives, the homeless, spoiled children looking for a thrill. Everyone steals. And, as this article illustrates, the people who pay the price for this theft are not the companies being stolen from but the consumers who pay higher prices as a result.

I feel like this mentality is reflected in the arguments against social services and, recently, health care reform. People don't seem to understand that the cost of crime and illness and suffering is passed on to all of us, one way or another. When I go to work everyday, I'm not thinking about serving any higher purpose, either. It's enough to me to enjoy what I do and to try to be decent at it. The fact that I'm also trying to save consumers more than $400 a year just kind of makes my job a little more interesting.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 290- Monsters

2010-10-17T19:51:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. President:

This is Maurice Clemmons:

This is the flukeman monster from the x-files:

This is what any one picking up a copy of the Sunday Seattle Times saw today:

I've written to you about Clemmons before. He committed robbery and assault, raped children and eventually murdered four police officers as they drank coffee. Clemmons is exactly the kind of monster I used to worry about as a small child when my father would get called in the middle of the night to a homicide, or when my mother was out on patrol. He's the kind of man whose madness and brutality and desire to dominate made him violent, erratic and dangerous. But now that I'm grown up and dealing with dangerous people in my own job, I don't believe in monsters. I couldn't grow up in the law enforcement community the way I did and not have an intense, emotional reaction to a cop killer and his disturbing history. But he's no creature, no phantom, he is just a man.

The illustration on the front page of today's Times left me feeling strangely all day. I don't feel sympathy or sadness for Clemmons, I don't want to make excuses for his life or his crimes, I don't want to defend or apologize for him. But I don't like the visual implication that he was sub-human. For one thing, I don't think that the Times would have chosen to illustrate him in such a disturbing way if Clemmons had been white. Mostly, I don't like the editorial decision by the Times to use an illustration rather than his photo. Clemmons wasn't a villain out of a comic book or horror story. He was a man. A terrible, frightening, disturbed man who needs no additional hype to haunt my nightmares. I think the media's inclination toward sensationalism creates the false sense that these dangerous people can be identified on sight. That we will know monsters by their look, or that that they cannot walk among us unnoticed.

This is not, of course, limited to the Seattle Times or to Maurice Clemmons. We make monsters out of our enemies every day, and we've done it throughout history. We comfort ourselves with the idea that you can't understand why some one would become a suicide bomber, that terrorists and killers are just mindless monsters. Maybe this helps some people distance themselves from the terrifying truth that each of us has something in common with those people that we fear. Helps people believe that good people look one way and bad people look another. I don't think that this is a useful lie to tell ourselves. I don't believe that we are safer this way.

Maurice Clemmons is dead. He met his end trying to kill another police officer, and I am not sorry for it. And the Times may well sell more papers (and, apparently, books) attempting to frighten people with this image of Clemmons as a monster, but I will not buy in to the notion that he or any killer is somehow a different creature than me, or than any one of us. The truth is, humans are far more frightening than any monster we can imagine and we will never be able to keep ourselves completely safe from the darkness that lurks where we can never see it coming.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 289- A bit late

2010-10-16T23:00:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. President,

It's much later than I usually post my letter to you. Since it won't, at all, affect the time you receive the letter, I'm sure this will go unnoticed. I like to think my excuse- I was playing my oft-repeated role as Designated Driver for a few friends who'd had way too much to drink- is worthy enough that those who do read this online won't judge me for missing midnight by several hours. I spent the evening around people I care about, people I respect, people who have achieved the kind of goals in life I'm supposed to be setting for myself- graduate degrees, successful careers, marriage, family- and found very little to make me want any of it. Through it all I felt incredibly out of place, unable to relate to the things that make them happy or even the things they find important. By the end of the night, as I was attempting to herd drunk friend into safe modes of transportation and get them home, I'd been thinking a lot about the midterms.

I started the night out with a clear agenda, an ambitious idea of how the night would go and what was important to me. l was quickly forced to compromise. The conflicting agendas of others, the logistical complications, the whole evening began to feel a lot like I've always imagined negotiating a piece of legislation through congress would feel. By the time I was struggling with drunk friends to keep them safe and get them home, I felt like I was fighting the forces of gravity just to hold my sanity together. Forget about my agenda; it had been lost for hours. Not to belittle the complexity of your current political situation, by comparing to to a bunch of drunk kids at a bar, or anything. You're a big fan of the responsible-driver vs. the republicans metaphor, and tonight i regretted ever cynically complaining about how overused that particular fable has become in your stump speech. The whole country handed you the keys and said they were just going to have a couple beers. You look around now and every one is screaming about marxism and your birth certificate and Obamacare and you have to wonder why you agreed to stay sober in the first place. No one will listen to you, or take your advice, or let you just fix things the way you want to. Even when inebriated, we Americans tend to be pretty protective of the idea of our own superior judgement as individuals.

I don't imagine that I've done anything more tonight than found a small my-life-sized analogy to the massive problems and struggles you face. But I think you're making the right call. Because, for a moment, I leaned back against my friend's car to appreciate the stars, and thought about the absurdity of it all. I almost laughed, because the night had already gotten so far away from funny that there was nothing else to do. I don't know if it helped me at all, but I can say that at least no one got hurt, and at least every one got to a safe place to sleep. You may have had the most tedious night of your life and be surrounded on all sides by fellow Democrats stumbling and senseless with the fear of the whims of a capricious public, but you're still criss-crossing the campaign trail, making your case, recognizing that even if you can't keep your agenda you can at least get every one home in one piece.

It's a tough job, but somebody has to do it. Tonight, I am immensely grateful that it's you and not me.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 288- Lost

2010-10-15T23:21:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. President,

Tonight I thought about writing to you about Bill O'Reilly on The View, or a FOX news reporter claiming "all terrorists are Muslims" or maybe your own administration's heel-dragging on Don't Ask Don't Tell. I probably should write about one of these things, but I've been stuck feeling listless this week, and I just can't summon the inspiration to articulate what I think about any of these stories in an interesting way.

I'm not sure what's wrong, exactly. I seem to have lost the focus and drive that normally get me through. I don't know what it is I'm working for or what will make me happy. The suffering I read about in the news or see in other people is overwhelming. What kind of future can I hope to enjoy when so many people are going through so many bad things?

I've been prone to these moods my whole life. I call it my place of darkness. It isn't that I'm giving up, I'm just recalibrating, I think, trying to gauge what my priorities and needs and goals are, or what they should be. This whole letter-writing project was born out of a similar mood, a desire to speak to power even if my voice went unacknowledged in the cacophony of other voices. I may post these letters, copy them out and mail them to the White House, but I think we both know I'm writing for me more than I'm writing for you. I need to believe the world will get better, that we're all moving through these difficult times toward a brighter future. And maybe these letters are my way of whistling past the graveyard, the haunting fear of failure or of inconsequence that keeps me moving even when I'm not certain why or where I'm headed.

I have to just give myself permission to feel lost. I try not to let hopelessness or aimlessness take over for too long. I'm going to find my sense of purpose again, in a few days or a few weeks or a few months. For now, I think a good night's sleep is better than another hour surfing news sights for some sign of hope.

I hope you have a good weekend.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 287- Misogyny

2010-10-14T22:59:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. President,

In my many years at various bookstores in various cities, I've encountered more than a few authors and politicians I disliked. Dick Cheney shopped at one store I worked in, which also hosted signings by conservatives like James Baker and Ann Coulter. Some authors are just rude- a historian I previously had nothing against once turned me off of his World War Two books forever by yelling at me over his book's not-quite-prominent-enough location. Glenn Beck was scheduled to do an event at my Seattle Borders, but luckily re-routed his tour and was unable to make it. I'm usually pretty good at staying calm even when I don't like an author's politics, or when they turn out to be completely arrogant and self-absorbed. For every Philippa Gregory or Alex Kershaw there are the Margaret Atwoods, Laurie Notaros and Don Cheadles, who have enough grace and good humor to make up for it. Tonight, an author who seems to make his money demeaning women was in my store signing for a huge crowd of frat boys and, sadly, more than a few women. I dont understand what women possibly see in this man's humor that would make them want his autograph. (I wanted to punch him in the face just for looking at me, but, luckily for him, it's a recession and my job is worth slightly more than that.)

I watched the line twist down the staircase, and between the large groups of (largely white) gym-toned and fake-tanned frat boys, I'd catch glimpses of the girls. They all seemed to be a variation on the same theme of long hair, heavy make up, too-short shorts or too-tight dresses with designer bags and long artificial nails. With impossibly thin limbs and shimmering highlights, they wore expressions of affected disinterest as they texted on phones in one hand and clutched copies of his books in the other. On the paperback of his first memoir, the author stands pointing at a blonde under his arm, her features replaced with the words "your face here". I've often longed to be more beautiful, but tonight, watching these lovely, sad creatures in all of their splendor, I have never been so happy to be homely.

While considering the mystery of this man's appeal, I came across this article on political misogyny. The recent popularity of anti-choice female candidates like Sarah Palin, Michele Bachmann, and Christine O'Donnell has given me serious pause about my desire to see more women in high office. I would like my gender to have more representation in government- but not by the political equivalent of those tanned, bleached and very thin girls standing in line to meet Tucker Max. I'll fully own my nerdy plain girl's mistrust of those who make being pretty their full-time jobs, but I think that there is a significant difference, for example, in the politics of Senator Snowe and those of the Palin/O'Donnell crowd. American women are far too diverse to ever be expected to vote for the same party, but it is so difficult to understand women who don't stand up against the subjugation of other women. Women who don't even take themselves seriously, let alone offer voters reason enough to. I want to feel the bonds of sisterhood, some common struggle that connects me with women like this, but I just don't. Does that make me just as bad as Tucker Max? I think in some ways it must. I don't know what kind of feminism there might be that could possibly include all of us, but I know for sure we're never going to find it worshipping men like him.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 286- Get out the vote, Washington!

2010-10-13T21:36:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. President,

You're going to be speaking at my school on the 21st. I basically haven't stopped freaking out since I learned of this event a few days ago. To make the week even more exciting, Former Presidents Clinton and Carter, as well as the First Lady will all have events in Seattle that week. Unfortunately, I'll probably only make it to see you and President Carter, but having so many important Democrats visit my city in such a short time is still very exciting. I suppose this is the small upside of having an unnervingly close senate race.

At the risk of making you change your mind about visiting, I don't think you have to worry about Washington Democrats showing up this year. Patty Murray is well-liked and accomplished, and Dino Rossi has basically made a career out of losing the gubernatorial race and cheating on his taxes. I really never get tired of mocking him for his general sliminess, but I do wish he'd stop running for office and fade happily back into obscurity.

I've got several friends planning on attending with me; I'm not sure how many will join me in linning up at 5 am, but I'm counting on the later arrivals to bring me coffee. I keep trying to talk myself out of getting my hopes up; I'll probably be too far away to see much, you'll probably give the same old stump speech with that long-past-tired metaphor about the Republicans and the ditch and the car keys. I probably won't get to shake your hand or get you to sign something. I'm ok with that. I'd rather be a fan of your policies than a fan of you as a person. (Plus, not to make it a competition or anything, but I'm sure President Carter will sign his book for me.) It's still going to be a once in a lifetime experience to hear my country's president speak in person. Just because I've sent you 285 letters already this year doesn't make me any more deserving of your notice than the thousands of other screaming, devoted UW Democrats who will also be there. Still, I feel like it's important for me to go, even if it means missing class and annoying the heck out of my friends and coworkers in the meantime.

I'm glad you're coming back to Seattle, Mr. President. I'll do whatever I can to make sure my fellow progressive Washington voters and I don't let you (or Senator Murray) down. See you in a few weeks!

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey