What A Year

This time last year, Suzanne de Passe, Suzanne Coston and I were happily freezing our buns off in Washington DC as the harried and hurried women working on the Commander-In-Chief's Inaugural Ball. It seems such a short year. I'm sure the man who became President of the United States on that fateful day has wondered "what was I thinking" when he determined to be President. I love him even more today than I did on that historic day. The challenges dumped on him by those exiting republican fools would have brought a lesser man to his knees. But he keeps moving forward. It's interesting that people rarely speak of temperament when talking about what it takes to be the most powerful man in the world. But it's worth noting that it takes a resolute and calm character to remain in charge and devoted to executing intentions in spite of all the garbage thrown in his direction. Ever more often I wonder at what point in his life that he decided to be a Black man. He didn't have to embrace the African father's name. Raised by his white grandparents, he could have been Barry and taken their last name and moved in some different circles. But he chose Barack. Charismatic, handsome over-achiever he is, he could have picked a glamor blond, but he didn't. He chose a woman of dark color to stand beside him, not behind him. And she ain't doing so badly either. She is clearly who she is and will leave a deep imprint on history. How either of them deals with the horrible hatred hurled at them makes me want to lift them up even more. I'm proud I lived long enough to see them in the White House and one of the most glorious times of my life was standing under the Presidential Seal at the end of the night and grinning at being part of history. I'm still the smiling Ruth Adkins Robinson