Tag: Open

I was asked to pen an open letter to the First Lady of the United States Mrs Michelle Obama for a potential project and so I did. The project didn’t pan out but my words did…

To The First Lady of the United States Mrs. Michelle Obama,

I’m given the opportunity to pen a letter to you the First Lady Mrs. Michelle Obama and am stumped. What could I say that would motivate you to read my letter, give thought to my words and possibly respond?

Although I am so full with words I can’t seem to piece them together in a sensible way. Maybe it’s because I’m trying to put so much thought into it or I want to sound so intellectual considering the other contributors to this anthology. Well I am a simple woman whose experiences were quite complicated therefore I will just reflect me. I smile on the outside but am crying inside. I am grateful for all that I have and give with an open heart.  My faith is strong but my spirit is weak, disillusioned by the blatant disrespect and lack of moral fiber displayed by the entire world, and myself at times. Wondering if the dreams I had as a child will ever fully come to fruition before my eternal sleep.

I am fearful for my child that she may not have the opportunities that are entitled to her at birth: that of creativity, true love, lasting friendships, honesty, and expression without fear. Fearful that she may not be able to fill her toolbox of life consisting of a well-rounded education, diversity, unrestricted walls with no color, gender, sexual preferences or ethnic bars and padlocks.

I carry burdens in my heart that weigh so heavy on me I cry as I write this. For every one woman like you there are ten like me who struggle to grasp a glimmer of hope, the hope to be a woman like you and transition from an unsung hero to one full of song, such as the person who extended me the opportunity to write this letter. I look to you not as the First Lady of the United States but as a woman who had to jump many hurdles, swim across many seas, bleeding hands from knocking down walls and sore yet strong arms from wrapping them tightly around her family so they don’t lose site of the foundation it was built upon.

There are so many of us in an endless cycle of what I call a Cinderella horror story:

We create our image, then it is not good enough

We find our prince, then he is lost

We find our careers then it is lost

We find our voices then we are silenced

What more can those like me do to get to the happy, rather contented, ending of the story that would allow us to create an unlimited number of new stories to hand off generation after generation?

Life’s accelerations have lead us to decelerate in our values, community engagement, relationships, learning and understanding our differences, social intercourse,  and so much more. How do those ten women like me get over the hurdles? So many in power, yet so few willing to reach out to help just one.  For despite their success they haven’t let go of the fear of being used or better yet someone to push them out of their position.

Tell me how do we first overcome this feeling of disenchantment so that we can rebuild ourselves? Then how can we maintain it? How do we put aside our fears and recognize there is plenty of room at the top? The top isn’t the pointed peak at the tip of a needle. It’s as vast as the universe where the stars are close enough to create a unique shape but still far enough to allow them space and distinction.  So I look to you not for the ultimate answer to find contentment but for a pathway to keep my chariot from returning to a rotten pumpkin. To keep children from feeling like they are nothing more than mere rodents unworthy of being the beautiful stallions drawing one another to greatness.

I, rather WE, look to you as that candle in the dark flickering but never burning out but actually draws us closer to create a large eternal flame. The flame that will resurrect the many villages that have been lost,  uniting us so that we may be strong for our men, strong for our children, stronger for one another, respectful of one another, uplifting one another, replace envy  with support, replace destruction with creation.

We need to stand on each other’s shoulders for we are the pillars of societies, the single strongest rib was given to us and yet we grind each other to ash.

Mrs. Michelle Obama this is not to increase your pressure for we know you are human like us. This is to embrace what you represent to us as a woman irrespective of color and to replicate beyond your family but to ours. It’s not just weeping, it’s a battle cry for if we as women don’t change toward one another we are doomed to a fate worse than death, we will live in Dante’s inferno as we take each other down one by one.

As the ink in my pen begins to fade…, I say thank you for resurrecting the power of minority women in the public eye. Thank you for the class and respect you command. Thank you for taking an interest in the well-being of everyone. Thank you for taking on causes because they need attention and not just because they may affect you or your family personally. I see you in the spiritual glow of our great ancestors and leaders who fought and fueled the passions for great change in spite of obstacles.

Now I will bid you adieu and maybe by some divine grace you will come across my words, feel my passions, and embrace us ten so that we may start a chain reaction to the path of contentment.

© 2014 Soulmuze