I don't have time to read much, which is a continuing source of mild melancholy in my life. My scant personal time is devoted to exercising, critical errands, and what little housework I can complete in the remaining four minutes. The rest of the day I'm either driving kids to and fro or chasing kids to and fro. But for my birthday last November, Ben gave me an iPod Touch. Wonderful! It's become one of my trusted companions. What I finally figured out is that a person can buy audio books and put them on the iPod and then listen to them.
I have just finished the audio version (read by the author) of Dreams From My Father by Barack Obama. Barack has been coming along with me on my frequent fitness walks through the woods. I can say that I am really impressed by the book as a book in itself. On two separate occasions I was moved to tears on the fitness trail and several times laughed out loud. The book was written when he was at Harvard Law School, before he had to have any political guardedness. He's delightfully candid– for example describing an encounter on the basketball court in which some white guy says to him, "there are niggers and then there are black people," to which young Barack replies, "There are white folks and then there are ignorant motherfuckers like you!" And mentioning that he sometimes went to class in high school, still drunk and high, smelling of beer and reefer.
He has had such a fascinating life, the basic outline of which we're all familiar with now. But still, although you would think we learned everything about him during the campaign, there's a lot that I didn't know. It seems strange now to think that anyone would've questioned whether he was "Black enough," because he dealt with racism in all its various subtle and blatant forms all through his life.
The book culminates with his trip to Kenya in his late 20s, between community organizing in Chicago and going off to law school. What struck me about it was that everyone there treated him as an unquestioned part of their family– the attitude he met was "we're so glad you finally came! We've been waiting for you." I love the image of our president, riding in a packed informal taxi called a matatu, with his sister Auma, a basket of yams, and some random baby on his lap. (I was in Kenya for six months in college and of course all the Kenyan parts are very vivid to me– and my homestay family was Luo! … his tribe..)
The story of his family history over there, his grandfather and his father especially, is complicated and painful– both men are polygamous and often what we would consider abusive to their wives and children– but adds so much context to the man we see in the White House today. They were both strivers, exceptionally smart, and unwilling to conform. Obviously our Barack is much the same, although without the harshness. I would say that I knew he was eloquent and smart, but this book adds another layer– he's extremely perceptive, introspective and sensitive.
The other night Ben and I sat next to an older man at a bar who was pronouncing this and that about "Hussein"– it took me a while to realize he was referring to our president. What an ass! Even Ben, who is no friend of Obama by any means, was offended by this disrespectful jerk. I think that it would be impossible to read or listen to this book without coming away LIKING Obama, as a person if not a president, but at the very least it makes it a lot easier to understand him.
Which is to say– read it!