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A review by domskeac
Dreams from My Father: A Story of Race and Inheritance by Barack Obama
4.0
Because of my age and my own political journey, I think Barack Obama is the most important political figure of my life. I am gearing up for the 2024 election, and I decided (as an uncommitted voter and current unlikely adopter of her campaign) that I wanted to check out Kamala Harris’ book. I have never actually read a political campaign book before though, so I decided first I should take this off my bookshelf to actually read. (Next up: Audacity of Hope.) I wish I had a review of this book from my 18 year old self.
He is clearly the gift orator and writer and political genius we all know him to be. Since my political awakening at the age of 18 in 2008 with his campaign/election, I spent seven years of my adult life on the southside of Chicago (with part of my time in Hyde Park, with theological education around Rev. Jeremiah Wright’s community, with community organizing as one of my foci, and with frequent walks by the barber he mentions in this book)—a 2024 look back on Obama’s life there is wild with that retrospect. The way he speaks of Harold Washington’s portraits around Chicago is the way *he* was venerated during my time living there.
What he has stuck with and what he has disavowed marks the distances between my own political life, now in 2024, and Obama’s legacy; this of course saddened me to reflect on. I found myself still motivated by his words and compelled by his message of hope. And sad at the ways his political legacy in practice actually leaned into bordering and war. Again, I would have loved to see how 18 year old, yes-we-can-Addie would have reviewed this. That hope was real and has done great things in the world.
From another, broader perspective that is particular to this book and not Obama’s legacy as a whole: I wish he could have written a book directly about his mother and grandmother(s). I would have been so interested in that story, political or personal. He weaves in so many matriarchs in this book, but all under the guise of his father figure(s), and as someone who actually relates a lot to his father narrative when compared to my own father, and who appreciated how that framing can be a good lens for memoir, I would have also loved a “Dreams of my Mother(s).”
He is clearly the gift orator and writer and political genius we all know him to be. Since my political awakening at the age of 18 in 2008 with his campaign/election, I spent seven years of my adult life on the southside of Chicago (with part of my time in Hyde Park, with theological education around Rev. Jeremiah Wright’s community, with community organizing as one of my foci, and with frequent walks by the barber he mentions in this book)—a 2024 look back on Obama’s life there is wild with that retrospect. The way he speaks of Harold Washington’s portraits around Chicago is the way *he* was venerated during my time living there.
What he has stuck with and what he has disavowed marks the distances between my own political life, now in 2024, and Obama’s legacy; this of course saddened me to reflect on. I found myself still motivated by his words and compelled by his message of hope. And sad at the ways his political legacy in practice actually leaned into bordering and war. Again, I would have loved to see how 18 year old, yes-we-can-Addie would have reviewed this. That hope was real and has done great things in the world.
From another, broader perspective that is particular to this book and not Obama’s legacy as a whole: I wish he could have written a book directly about his mother and grandmother(s). I would have been so interested in that story, political or personal. He weaves in so many matriarchs in this book, but all under the guise of his father figure(s), and as someone who actually relates a lot to his father narrative when compared to my own father, and who appreciated how that framing can be a good lens for memoir, I would have also loved a “Dreams of my Mother(s).”