I have a thousand favorite poets so when I cite Maya Angelou it’s not just because everyone knows and loves her work. It’s because I know and love her work. I was mesmerized by her reading of “On the Pulse of Morning” at President Clinton’s first inauguration in 1993:
“Here on the pulse of this new day– you may have the grace to look up and out and into your sister’s eyes, into your brother’s face, your country, and say simply, very simply, with hope… Good morning.”
On Monday, Richard Blanco becomes the fifth poet to contribute to our Inaugural history when he offers a poem for the nation and the President’s second term. He will follow some towering shadows cast by Dr. Angelou and Robert Frost. As a young Latino immigrant, his experience growing up in America will not doubt be reflected in his work.
But I decided you don’t have to be formally invited to Open Mic Day on the Capital steps to contribute to the body of Inauguration poetry. When I wrote my poem for President Obama on the occasion of his first Inauguration, I was moved by the profound historic significance of his election. It wasn’t chosen for the big event but I posted it here anyway and it has gotten thousands of hits over the past four years. Through the political battles, arguments, threats, criticisms, wars, animosity and divisions… I still have faith in America and our President.
So I am reposting A Poem for Barack Obama Upon the Inauguration of America, with the same hope of national unity that Richard Blanco and Maya Angelou and so many other poets envision for our country.
“I AM HOPE”
A POEM UPON THE INAUGURATION OF AMERICA
January 20, 2009 and January 21, 2013
Written for Barack Obama, the 44th and 45th President of the United States
By Kevin W. Riley
Hope.
I am.
Hope has, even for America’s moment,
Brought more than this moment of redemption.
Hope.
Though I am shackled and thrown upon the swollen deck,
Seaborne and riding the stench of slavery to some new world- lost to life.
Hope. Though I am asleep in Lincoln’s apocalypse.
I am Gettysburg and Manassas and Shiloh.
The dead stacked and shoveled into history’s silent pocket.
In the atrocities a war wrought, even the birds were lost for song;
their throats clutched
In witness of humans who could be so calloused and so cruel.
All in the name of Freedom.
Hope.
I am innocence: Emmit Till and Little Linda Brown
and Addie Mae Collins and her three young friends.
Hope.
I am the blessed martyrs. I am Medgar Evers.
I trust Malcom X with my fury.
I marched from Selma to a Birmingham Jail.
I ripped away the judge’s hood that silenced Bobby Seale
and enjoined the Freedom Riders to endure the flames at Anniston.
I heard the chilling voice of Bull Connor and the sting of riot dogs.
The fire hose.
I saw school buses ignite Roxbury and trigger decades of white flight.
And still I stand.
Hope…
I am the preacher-prophet who foretold that we would reside one day
in a promised land.
He must be with us now.
Though the years have kept his visage young…
His eternal voice is crisp as fire
As he sings from the mountain top.
This morning I heard the sky rejoice-
like the deafening wail of 10,000 hurricanes.
I am Lazarus.
I have redeemed the blood of a beloved brother, gone 40 years.
(Bobby’s picture is still among a shrine of holy cards
in a little house in San Antonio
Where Abuelita says her morning rosary
To Cesar Chavez and a wall of popes whose names she cannot pronounce).
I am JFK for whom Ireland still weeps.
I am redemption for centuries of sorrow;
For a word so foul it sticks in civil throats like drying cactus–
Thistle and rust, decapacitating…
A poison elixir that not all our years combined can exorcise.
I am first Hope. Jackie Robinson and Thurgood Mashall.
I am the first black pilot, the first black principal,
the first black business owner, the first pioneer.
I am first to serve, first to play, first in science,
and first to sail deep into space.
And yet I am last.
I am Hope.
I ride a mighty wave.
I stand on shouldered giants, most for whom history has not reserved a name.
I am beneficiary of the wishes and the words and the blood of legions.
I rise by the toil of Chisholm and Jordon;
on the scaffold stairs built by Jackson and Charles Houston
and Andrew Young.
I am
Hope– tempered, with no guarantee.
But if ever He loved a people
Surely now He has heard our prayers…
Whispered through days and years and generations–
Through all America’s time
To let us be who we must be;
To even once know what it means to be ONE nation.
Alas…
I am only Hope.
My arms are thin.
I speak as if all of God’s angels have somehow filled my lungs
with righteous air.
I am your mouth. His voice.
Our hands–
That the promise of humankind might at last be realized.
But I cannot be who YOU will not be…
So now my name is nailed above Katrina’s door,
Above the Wall Street debacle and the house of cards.
My name is nailed to Iraq and Jerusalem, to all ancient Persia–
And to the suffering of Darfur.
And as I go, so go a hundred nations.
Freedom shines,
A loud bell tolls the moment.
We are astride a wondrous day.
History will remember us as giants…
Or it will not.
Redemption has a name.
I am Obama. And mine is a holy song.





The International Olympic Committee decided to hold their 2016 Games in Rio instead of Chicago. Even a personal appeal by President Obama could not persuade them otherwise.
The IOC was evidently not disuaded by the poverty, crime, pollution, corruption and violence present in Rio. After all, it is not like those conditions don’t exist in Chicago.
And as sobering as that data may be, Derrion Albert was not the victim of random gun violence in Chicago! He was hit over the head with a splintered railroad tie in the middle of a street melee, and then he was punched and kicked unconscious. He was not a participant. He was merely walking home from school. While he lay in the street dying,
This is not the first time large expenditures have gone into the public schools to try to keep our children safer. Back in the early 1990’s, Walter H. Annenberg established the Annenberg Foundation with $1.2 billion in assets, explained that he made his historic commitment to school reform because he was concerned about rising violence among young people: “We must ask ourselves whether improving education will halt the violence.”
Monday, September 21st, is the United Nation’s 27th annual attempt to promote an 


As is the case with all things now in American politics, this too has been spoiled. The President has been demonized and his intentions sullied by another fight. The same group of
Knuckleheads from the far (and not so far) right wing of the Republican Party have managed to cast so many shadows on the President’s address to school children, that most
What a shame. What a loss for those children and their naive parents. They will miss the point that Barack Obama did not rise to the station of the American Presidency because he can take standardized tests or survive a curriculum so narrowly tuned to reading and math. He rose to the presidency because he can THINK. He is a reader, a writer, an orator, a lover of art and music and people. He is a leader. Spiritual. Self disciplined and self made. He is the embodiment of Gardner’s Multiple Intelligences. He is the very model of what our public schools should strive for. And perhaps that is the biggest fear of all for those on the right: That our public schools might actually work! That we might, if untethered from the yoke of mindless standardized testing, reach across the great socio-economic divide and actually raise children from every community and race and ethnicity and gender group– to compete. Anywhere. Against anybody. Even to be President of the United States.
This Tuesday the televisions will be on at El Milagro. We told teachers if they can fit it into their schedules they should. But it is up to them. And if parents don’t want their children exposed to this man… they can opt out. It is their call. Their conscious. They can be complicit in the very blatant educational malpractice that began during the Bush presidency if they so choose. Or they could actually seize the teachable moment and model for their own children that rarest of gifts these days: the ability to THINK for oneself.




This happened on the last President’s watch, the one that talked about patriotism and Christian values and keeping America safe. The one that imposed No Child Left Behind on America’ s schools and accelerated an era in which the illusion of accountability and achievement has merely driven schools to gun the motor, spin the tires in the mud, and lurch forward in the wrong direction in a cloud of spent energy and system-wide exhaustion. Just like the economy. President Obama said:
The second study came from the National Center on Family Homelessness who now estimate that one in every 50 American children is homeless. In summarizing the report 
My Inauguration Day post on 
I celebrated another birthday this week and I realize with each passing year how much I have learned in my life. Every day, every week, every year. And the lessons keep coming. But the ultimate lesson of where we all go from here– no matter how deeply I reflect– I can never quite resolve. I only know that we are here and we are gone. And that somewhere our spirits and our souls are transformed and we slip quietly out of view of those we leave to the Earth.
This weekend, we are all on the precipice of such a moment. One that stirs our history and our hopes. There is an unmistakable spiritual presence emerging even while our nation reels from conditions that might otherwise seem awfully bleak. In three days, we will arise and walk again.
This week, as he braces for Inauguration Day and the ride of a million lifetimes, Barack Obama published
So for his part, Barack Obama has merely ascended to the most difficult job on the face of the earth– to become the most powerful living human being– to make the world a better place for the daughters he loves so dearly. He has risen above paralyzing political divisions for the opportunity to change the course of America. To become president, he merely had to transcend centuries of racism, intractable prejudice, and a tortured national history of self-hatred that manifests itself in bigotry and intolerance.


