It’s been
an interesting week.
I’ve had
lots of emotions.
Obama has won.
In school, you hear
“Great.
The muslim terrorist
is our president
and we’re all
going to die.”
Pish posh.
This year,
I’ve really wanted
to know things
going on
in politics.
I don’t want
to like someone
just because
my parents do.
This summer,
I took a test
on the internet
that showed results
of where you rank
in politics.
I came out liberal.
I listened to both
nomination speeches
at the beginning.
I wrote notes.
I’ve listened
to both sides.
This girl, Abby,
was talking to everyone
at the table
before school.
(We all sit down
and do homework
in the mornings.)
She was the one
that said
Obama was a
muslim terrorist.
I just smiled and
said, “Abby,
Obama isn’t even
muslim.”
While I was at
the stake dance
last night,
a friend I haven’t
seen in a while
said,
“Anne, I’ve heard
you’re a democrat
and you like Obama.”
I don’t even tell
people that.
How the heck did
he know?
I laughed
“Umm, yes?”
“Obama is a muslim
terrorist,
Anne.
Have you been reading
the republican
news lately?”
Have you been reading
the normal news
lately?

I thought.
“You apparently
aren’t listening
to what’s going on
in America right now.”
This made me mad.
The first dance
and I’m being lectured
by someone telling me
I’m not listening.
I pretended I wasn’t mad
and nodded my head.
“So why don’t you
like Obama?”
He paused.
“Everything that comes
out of his mouth
is not true.
He’s always trying to
get around questions.”
Huh.
“So you feel pretty
sure that he’s a terrorist?
What do you think
congress will do about
this?” I pretended
to be shocked.
“Well, George Bush is
in charge of the
nominations and all,
so we’ll have to see.”
Wow. Wow.
George Bush
in charge of the
nominations.
Didn’t know that.
Pff. Seriously.
The song we were
dancing to
was over.
He was too crazy
for me to explain that
Obama is not muslim,
he’s black
and where the heck
did he get the thing
about George Bush?
That’s the thing here,
where I live.
No one knows anything
about McCain.
They’re just Anti-Obama’s.
It’s worthless
to debate here
because no one knows
anything.
(I love debate.
I should have signed up
for it at school)
It’s funny.
Teenagers just listen
to what their parents
say,
or get things from
other friends.
The hard-core
republicans here
aren’t even
hard-core republicans.
They’re just
hard-core
democrat-haters.
The only comeback
teenagers know
when speaking
to a democrat is
“Baby killers!”
(Which isn’t even
true)
People love to bash
on Obama here.
But when I ask,
“So why do you like
McCain?”
or “What is something
Obama has said
that you don’t like?”
They don’t know anything.
The don’t know
anything about
his politics.
All they talk about
is his ethnicity and
religion.
No, he is not muslim.
And no, he was raised
christian.
I want to hear from a
smart adult Republican.
I’m sick of the
teenagers I talk to.
Are they saying
the same thing?
About Obama being
a terrorist?
I’d really like to hear
what they think
of Obama,
and why McCain
would be better.
If someone my age
decided to be a Republican
because they researched,
that would be great.
I have yet to meet
a teenager
who has a strong
Republican opinion,
because they did
some research.
The people who
only look at one side,
and try to find the worst
things possible
on the other side
bug me.
And if you don’t know
something for a fact,
don’t go preaching it.
My dad and I were
talking.
He said that
no matter what
way I go: Democratic
or Republican,
he’ll know that I’ve
thought about it.
I will not be a democrat
because my parents
are.
I will not be a republican
because people
in my religion
say, “it’s the righteous way.”
I will have my own
opinions.
I will research.
I will be smart.
When I get a text
that says,
“In Revelations,
it states that the
anti-christ
will be from a muslim
descent in his forties
and will act Christ-like
but betray us all.
Don’t vote Obama”,
I will go look up
Revelations.
This week has been
hard.
I’ve gotten yelled at
for liking Obama
more than three times.
And each lecture
I’ve gotten
is about his physical
appearance
and the fact
his dad was Islamic.
Hmm, maybe that
says something
about America…

I was talking to my
friend, Ana,
about racism
the other day.
She told me her ideas
of illegal immigrants,
and how people
take “illegal immigrants”
as ALL mexicans,
and how racist that is.
She told me a lot
of personal things
with her living
in America.
(She moved here from
Mexico
two years ago)
I love talking to her.
She has great ideas
and strong opinions.
She’s my favorite person
to tell her my thoughts
because she looks
at both sides.
She’s open to hear
others.

Anyway.
This week has
been very interesting
with all the politics
going around.

The weekend was fun.
Friday,
I went on a walk.
I wore my grandpa’s
letterman jacket
with a blue beret
I found
in the costume pile
downstairs.
I felt down.
I went under the tunnels
and balanced on the
sidewalk
next to the canal
full of water.
I walked by the lake.
Then I made my way
up to Grandma and
Grandpa’s.
I looked in their
window by the door
and saw them
both in nice clothes.
I stood there thinking
if I should knock.
They were probably
leaving somewhere.
I knocked.
When they opened
the door,
Grandpa yelled,
“Anne!”
They told me to
sit down.
Grandma said,
“Do you want
some banana bread?
Cookies?
We have a bunch of
cookies over here.
Take as many as you
want.
Milk? Do you want milk?”
They both gave me
a big hug.
We talked for a bit,
then Grandma went up
and got some movies
for me.
They told me
I could write,
play DDR,
do whatever.
And off they went
to dinner.
I sat in the house
and decided
what I wanted to do.
I felt like writing.
I love Grandma’s
study.
I love the white desk
by the window,
and the pictures
on the walls.
I started typing
on the computer.
For a half an hour,
I rush wrote
about four pages
double-spaced.
The main character
was a girl,
and her best friend
reminded me of my
friend, Wes,
then Dylan,
then a random
fictional character.
It was fun to write.
When I finished,
I sat there and
thought about things.
Why is school
so hard?
Why won’t the frisbee
go where I want
it to go in PE?
Why is my friend
so sad all the time?
Why does a blue
beret
make me feel
so happy?
Why do I always cry
when I hear
my dad
play the guitar?
When I was finished
at my grandparents’
house,
I went over to Tasia’s
and had a sleepover.
The next day,
we took showers
then put apples
(instead of cucumbers)
over our eyes.
It took us about five minutes
before we could stop
laughing
and sit there in silence.
When I was sitting
there,
with apple pieces
over my eyes,
I thought of all
the things I needed
to do better,
or the goals
I wanted in life.
It felt pretty good.
Later that night
was the stake dance.
It was the most
fun thing of my life.
Wes and I
did the Cha Cha
a million times.
I danced with
the person I
wanted to dance
with.
Everything was great.
Oh.
Well, there was one
thing
that wasn’t so great.
I was sitting
on the stage
next to this boy
who I have…
not so good
feelings towards.
It was a slow
song and he said,
“Ready to dance?”
He didn’t wait for
me to answer.
The “slow” dance
didn’t feel slow
at all.
He flung me all
over the place.
“We’re doing the
waltz”
Yeah, I know what
the waltz is,
stupid.

It wasn’t a fun waltz.
He was pulling me
and pushing me
and pulling me
over and over again.
Then all the sudden,
he pulled me into him.
Our noses and foreheads
were touching.
I wanted to smack him.
When we pulled out
from each other,
I saw Tasia.
She was trying not
to laugh.
She knew how much
I didn’t want to be
dancing with him.
When we were done,
I said,
“Well, thanks ____,
that was…”
He was already going
back to his
clique,
strutting like
John Travolta
in Grease
and sticking his
nose up
at the ceiling.
I could still smell
his cologne.
Oh, how I wanted
to smack him.
A year ago,
my dad and I
made this bet.
If he asks me out,
I give my dad twenty
bucks.
He better not.
I will say no.
I promise you.
“Dude. He could have
kissed you.
Right then.
Your guys’ faces
were touching,”
Tasia said. Laughing.
“This isn’t even
funny. He’s so stuck up.
He thinks everyone
likes him.”
She laughed harder.
Other than that,
the dance was
fabulous.

Sunday again.

We’re going to
my grandparents.
I hope Ambryn is
there.
I think I’ll wear
my blue beret.

4 Comments


  1. I look forward to seeing the blue beret. Most of me is so proud of you for actually thinking about politics and the other part just wishes you could remain young and politic-free, it can be so frustrating!


  2. You should ALWAYS ring our doorbell even if we’re wearing formal attire and tiaras.


  3. Anne,
    You are a wonderful thinker. Your notes on studying for the best candidate is something I can’t get most college students to do. And just as good, you understand how non-thinkers talk. There are smart Republicans. There once was more. The Republican Party was once known as the party of intellectuals. They’ve blown it for now. I do know some intelligent Republicans. And it’s interesting to talk to them. At this point, however, the leaders of the Republican Party are trying to figure out just what they think.

    I’m proud of you.


  4. I like Obama. I think it’s awesome that we’re having a black president! FINALLY! I’ve been waiting for one. I always thought, maybe a mormon black chick should run and win. Well that was a thought. Then I heard about a black guy running and a mormon running, somehow I put them together and thought a black mormon guy was running. I said, great! Now he just needs to turn into a woman.
    Oh well, My parents a republican I think, I don’t really care, I just want a president that will lead us in the right direction. People here like obabma, he was born in Hawaii, maybe that’s why, Hawaiian and U.S. history.
    They are somewhat racist here, against whites. That’s me. I’ve been givin’ a few nasty looks when I got to the mall. All the Hawaiian and other brown girls givin’ me the stick eye.
    The other day my father and I were watching the elctorial blah and Obama was speaking.
    “It’s so freakin’ cool that we have a black president! This is history, And we’re wittnessing it.” my dad said as he sat on our swede chocolate couch.
    I thought about it serioiusly, and since these elections started my heart has always been with Obama, only because He was one of the only ones I knew the name of, and he was black.
    His speeches are phenominal, he doesn’t read off the teleprompter, you can tell, he memorizes them, and that takes talent. He’ll be a great president, and I’m following him all the way. I don’t care what other people say.
    I’m with you Anne.

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