DEAR PRESIDENT TRUMP: a promise for your coming inauguration & presidency

 

Dear President Trump,

As a new era begins in your life, so it begins in mine. About a year and a half ago, I began culturally engaging my Potawatomi Citizen Band/Chickasaw/Cherokee heritage along with my husband and two sons.

It has transformed my life in every way, coming back to something inside of me that has asked to be paid attention to. In a way, I’ve promised myself that I’ll never be the same again, never go back to “before.”

And so it is with you. Today you begin a new life as our president, and you cannot go back even one day. You take the past that has made you and move forward with it, with a steady promise to our nation and world that you’ll justly care for it.

But I’ve got another promise to make to you.

As a child, I wrote President Clinton a letter. I’ve written to President Obama numerous times as an adult, and my five-year-old son has written to him as well. We’re told to write to our leaders, to let them know that we see them, hear them, hold them up to the light.

So I’ll be writing to you, President Trump.

Weekly, you’ll receive a letter from me.

I’ll update you on the education of my two boys; I’ll describe our life to you so you can understand what it’s like to live in our space.

I’ll tell you that I pray for you, and I’ll ask you to make better decisions if I see something wrong.

Justice is a beautiful thing, because it holds us– not the other way around. So I’ll write to you my own thoughts on justice, this nation, my perspective as a lower-class native american work-from-home mother and writer.

I promise to write to you as a Christ-follower, to check my own heart against political views, and I promise to write to you on the premise of grace.

As our President, you’ll know me. You’ll know my handwriting and my voice, my distant presence at your office door every week when the time comes.

If you’d like to think of it this way, I will haunt you, a less-knowing reminder than the good spirits who visited Ebenezer Scrooge throughout the night to remind him of who he was meant to be.

I promise to be your reminder, President Trump, to send my voice to your door, to show you our world so that every day of your presidency you cannot truthfully say that you didn’t know.

This is my promise to you.

Welcome to the Presidency.

With watching eyes & steady hand,

 

Kaitlin Curtice

An Open Letter to Donald Trump: the day after the election

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Dear President-Elect:

This morning, I lay in bed beside my three year old as my husband explained to my five year old in the next room that you will be our next president.

Our oldest son has watched you closely these past months. He has called you a bully, a man with a hateful attitude.

But here we are, and congratulations to you.

Please know that a fire has been lit.

It has been lit by children who refuse to be bullied and parents who want to see a healthy world for their little ones, a world where minorities and females and the poor can also rise to the leadership positions and change things.

I am a worship leader at an LGBT-affirming church; I am a Native American; I am an author, a homeschooling mother, a wife of a PhD student.

And a fire has been lit in me.

This morning I lay with my oldest son in my bed. We cuddled before we started the day and I reminded him of the power of a phone call.

We’ve called Obama a few times these last few weeks to ask him to stop the pipeline in North Dakota, and my boy’s voice was recorded and his words sent on to a listening president.

Now I’m asking you to be that listening ear in the coming years, because Mr. Trump, if things go awry, he will be calling you.

And if things are all as they should be, he will still be calling, because he is a citizen of a country that is held steady by its future– the children.

Mr. Trump, listen to the children.

Start now.

And know that we will be praying for you.

We will be praying that every morning when you rise from your bed and every night when you go to sleep and all the moments in between, you’ll be seeking shalom in your leadership.

I don’t want to see you at my church, or at a pulpit with a bible in your hand. I don’t want to hear you proclaiming God’s good will in sending you to our great nation as a prophet-leader.

I want to see you doing the things that Jesus did.

Eating with the outcast.

Caring for the poor, widowed, orphaned.

Embracing all the other.

Creating equal rights.

Becoming a peacemaker.

Mr. Trump, that fire was lit under Jesus, too.

It’s a fire of justice, grace, and Kingdom, and I’m praying you find it in your early days of leadership and carry it as a humble torch through the next four years.

And please remember who’s watching.

And keep your phone line open.

 

Sincerely,

A citizen who stands for many of things you’ve spoken against.