Thanks A Lot, Obama

Thanks a lot, Obama. The phrase started out as an expression of Republican rage against the policies of the President. But as it was repeated over and over again, the phrase took a more ironic twist. People started to use it to complain abut any little hardship they faced in a day. It became our political version of #firstworldproblems. While I was in graduate school, my friend Jon and I loved to play along.

“Someone drank all the coffee in the student lounge and didn’t make a new pot. Thanks a lot, Obama!”

“Dr. Tupper said I had to revise my paper and turn it in again. Thanks a lot, Obama!”

“It rained while I was walking to class today. Thanks a lot, Obama!”

We were caught up in this new trend and tried to point out the absurdity of blaming all of the world’s problems on a singular figure. The President only holds so much power, you know. He (or she) can’t change the price of gas on a whim. He can’t change the heart of your surly professor or affect weather patterns or improve the manners of a selfish, caffeine deprived (and depraved) graduate student.

But our President has done a lot. More so than I saw our previous president ever accomplished. More so than I ever expected possible from a President. I have personally been profoundly transformed by the work of our President, as have millions of other Americans.

So, in the waning hours of his presidency (literally in the last waning hour) I want to take one last chance to say thanks a lot, Obama. Really.

Thanks a lot, Obama. You were the first president I ever voted for. I was studying political science at the University of Kentucky. My studies and the state of politics at the time had made me quite jaded about the possibility of politics. When you came onto the scene, you changed all that. You inspired me. You gave me hope. You made me believe in something bigger than myself.

I voted for you again in 2012, for all the same reasons and more. You showed an ability to turn hope into action. You governed with wisdom, knowing that you couldn’t get everything accomplished and knowing when to stand on principle and when to compromise. You weren’t afraid to speak up for what you believed in and to call out those individuals who were acting to undercut progress. You were a man of both word and deed. In your two terms, you held the highest integrity, wanting to do everything in your power to keep the promises you made. In eight years, I never once regretted voting for you. Thanks a lot, Obama.

In 2008 and 2012, I had the chance to hear you speak. In 2008, I stood in a line wrapped around the block in downtown Louisville for a chance to hear you campaign. When the room had filled up, they promised us there would be an overflow room where we could watch the speech. By the time I made it up the stairs that was full as well and they turned us away. In 2012, I was given tickets to your speech in Charlotte as a reward for campaigning.That event was rained out and moved to a smaller venue. I was rewarded instead with a Skype call with you and thousands of other volunteers.

Thanks a lot, Obama. Just the chance that I might hear you speak in person was enough.

In 2008 and 2012, I campaigned for you as well. I knew that I needed to do everything in my power to get you elected, even if it meant going door-to-door and registering every voter I could. You took a jaded, skeptical political science student and turned him into an involved and optimistic campaign volunteer. Democracy is not made in speeches or in posturing, it’s made out in the streets – presenting your ideas and trying to get as many people as possible to judge if your ideas are right.

In 2012, my best friend Kolby, roped me in to going door-to-door registering voters. I’ll never forget walking for miles out in the late August heat of North Carolina, way out in neighborhoods I would have never gone to or at the Greyhound bus station downtown I had never set foot in or at the homeless shelters of Winston-Salem.

I’ll never forget asking him, “Why in the world are we doing this?” I’ve always been a complainer. I had trouble seeing the point in registering so many transient citizens in the slim hope that they would show up to the voting booth. Kolby looked back at me as if it was the dumbest question he’d ever heard. “This is what democracy is all about,” he said. It’s about giving voice to the voiceless, looking at every single person, no matter their circumstance or life situation and telling them, “You have a vote and it matters just as much as anyone else’s.”

Thanks a lot, Obama. You showed me what democracy was all about.

Thanks a lot, Obama. Since 2013, I have had to take regular, daily medications for my health. At the time, I was 26 years old and working two part-time jobs that didn’t provide health insurance. At that point, it was unlikely I would ever qualify for health insurance because I now had a pre-existing condition. But because of your Affordable Care Act, I was able to secure health insurance and to afford the medications that I so desperately needed.

Thanks a lot, Obama. My personal health and well-being are what they are today because of you.

Thanks a lot, Obama. You were a man of words. You were charismatic, inspiring and hopeful. You were concise and careful. You chose your words carefully, knowing that so much hung in the balance of every word you said. I aspire to be so careful, precise and powerful in my words. For some reason, pundits and talk radio hosts counted this as one of your flaws. I don’t understand it in the least. I think we need more powerful, careful, and impactful speech in our discourse, not less. We need more people who know that words matter and how we speak about people and ideas matters.

You have held the office of President with the highest integrity, the greatest tenacity and the most persistent hope. You have the charisma that only the greatest of leaders possess. People want to be better because of you. You help me not only be a better citizen but also a better person.

It has been a hard time for hope this past year, not just because of the election of Donald Trump. I have experienced difficult setbacks personally, hitting roadblocks and taking detours that I never wanted to go down. One of the great things you could’ve done in your last days is to give people hope. You gave me hope. You still give me hope. And that is a hard thing to kill.

For years to come, I will hold on to the hope you gave me, embodied in the simple and powerful phrase you gave to us from the first to the last: “Yes, we can.”

Thanks a lot, Obama. Really. I mean it this time.