My letter to Barack Obama

I wrote a letter to Barack Obama. A dear friend asked me to after listening to my observation that it would be sad to see Obama’s presidential bid derailed by Don Imus chickens coming home to roost.

Yeah, the defenders of Rev. Jeremiah Wright, the people pleading for context and understanding of his irrational, unpatriotic and borderline racist words, are the same people who clamored for Imus’ removal and claimed context had no place in the discussion of Imus’ inappropriate description of female basketball players at Rutgers.

I am not political. Dishonesty is so pervasive within politics that I practice abstinence. Conservative and liberal ideologies are the enemies of common sense. I’m a nonvoting, casual observer.

Obama’s candidacy intrigues me for one reason: He has the necessary background, life experience and personality to inspire ordinary Americans to look beyond their racial stereotypes and fears.

Without a unifying force, it’s my concern that we’ll never recognize and embrace ideas, policies and investments that will keep American culture ahead of its competitors.

Obama’s speech last week on race disappointed me. He came off like a typical politician, more interested in damage control than addressing the whole truth. Those of you who read my column regularly know that I’m passionate about issues of race.

I e-mailed my letter to Oprah Winfrey, asking her to pass it along to Obama. Here’s what I hoped/hope to hear from Obama:

•••

When I spoke with you on Tuesday, I wanted to appear presidential. Today, I just want to represent Barack Obama. I want you to know who I am on the most personal level, and if revealing myself this transparently makes me unworthy of this nation’s highest office, then I’ll accept that and carry on enthusiastically as a senator representing the great state of Illinois.

As a consequence of misspoken words by my wife, a lapse in judgment on my part and the games that have come to characterize American politics, my love of this country is being questioned and attacked. This controversy has shaken me to my core, caused me to lose sleep and moved us away from the issues that should define this presidential race.

I stand before you wounded and angry. But most important, I stand here today determined to finish this presidential race with my name and reputation in good standing and no questions about my profound belief in this country.

It is impossible for me to despise, dislike and wish for God to damn America.

I am America.

I am a product of America’s melting pot, proof of America’s willingness to acknowledge its mistakes and do better, an example of the kind of tolerance and opportunity you will find nowhere else in the world.

On Tuesday, I attempted to explain to you why I can’t reject Rev. Wright the man, only his incendiary, unpatriotic words. I analogized Rev. Wright with my grandmother. I didn’t go far enough. I didn’t want to talk about the hole in my heart, the hole in the heart of every boy or man who has been abandoned by his father.

This is a pain that only victims of parental abandonment can know, a pain that has caused me to write diaries and books trying to subdue it. It’s a pain that led me to Rev. Wright, a relationship with Jesus Christ and an association with a church that taught me many of the things my father should have.

I am both white and black, and for this I am immensely proud and unrepentant. I love my white mother and the white grandparents who raised me. I love what they instilled in me as a boy in Hawaii. Without them, I would not have a Harvard degree, a beautiful wife and a chance to be president of the country I love. I would not trade my mother, my grandparents and my upbringing for anyone’s in this world.

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To reach Jason Whitlock, call 816-234-4869 or send e-mail to jwhitlock@kcstar.com. For previous columns, go to KansasCity.com.