When I Grow Up
Some impressions last a lifetime
Charlotte had only been two and a half when she met Barack Obama. He was just a senator then, considering running for president. But she remembered it—remembered him.
She talked about him incessantly that year as her family dragged her around campaigning for him. They were determined to support this idealistic young senator all the way to the White House.
The impression the man who would become President Obama had left on Charlotte was indelibly stamped on her heart and in her mind. He had knelt down beside her, setting her completely at ease as he asked, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
Charlotte had thought seriously about his question, even as young as she was. At the time, she had answered, “I want to be a doctor, like Mommy.” But as she grew up and watched Mr. Obama, with, of course, some interpretation in the early years from her parents, she admired his honesty and dedication more and more. And, of course, she never forgot his kindness to a little girl he didn’t know.
Today, seventeen-year-old Charlotte had received her acceptance letter for Harvard—the school from which the former President had graduated from law school. She immediately sat down to pick her courses. She breezed past English and science in the course calendar, clicking on the link for the political science program. Charlotte knew exactly what she wanted to be when she grew up. She wanted to be a president for all Americans. Just like Barack Obama.
I was creating images of public figures I admire, and Barack Obama was one of the people I chose. I wanted to show him kneeling down talking to a little girl. None of the images turned out exactly as I had hoped. The one I liked most was unsuitable because the little girl had six fingers on her right hand. My second choice showed Mr. Obama with a third boot supporting his bottom—also unsuitable.
I initially thought using the image with a white girl might send the wrong message. But I rethought this, realizing that Barack Obama and other admirable people are inspiring to me, regardless of race, political affiliation, religion, or any other differentiating factors. Choosing this image clearly states that this should be the norm.
Who has inspired you? What do you want to be when you grow up? Personally, I think I’m constantly “growing up” and changing. I don’t want to be president (or prime minister, here in Canada), but I do aspire to kindness, which reminds me of another public figure I admire—the Dalai Lama. Time to go make some more images.
I love this story and the image.
When I was a kid, my Dad asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I said, “When I grow up, I want to be a guitar player.” He said, “Well, you can’t do both.” An old joke, but I like to think playing guitar keeps me young at heart.