An Open Letter To The White House

by Amy Lindorff

Dear White House,

There was a time in my life when my favorite book was Meg Cabot’s All-American Girl was my favorite book and my favorite movie was My Date With the President’s Daughter, a Disney Channel movie starring Will Friedle of Boy Meets World. Basically, I was obsessed with the idea of living in you or dating someone who lived in you. I already had the movie version of All-American Girl planned out in my head: I would star opposite the cute guy with the shiny hair from Even Stevens (I am definitely NOT talking about Shia LeBeouf here, I mean the other guy) and if we happened to fall in love for reals while shooting, oh well. Hopefully you have gathered from the Disney Channel references that this was all going down between the ages of eleven and thirteen.

Despite this brief fantasy diversion, I was mostly interested in you. I thought it would be so fun to be the daughter of a president. Of course I now realize that my imagination had led me to believe that I would essentially be Lady Mary from Downton Abbey (a fabulous and clever woman who would constantly be set up with handsome men as marriage prospects and never have to go to school) which I am guessing is not actually how the presidents’ daughters live.

I love all those movies about the president (especially The American President what a great film) and was very excited to learn that there is now a book called The Obamas, which talks about their life in you so far. I cannot wait to read it, not because I care about whether Mrs. Obama and Rahm Emanuel really hated each other or not, but because I am fascinated by how things work inside you.

My initial two obsessions with you, stated above, were probably more about one of the decisions most eleven year old girls face: would it be more fun to be Princess Jasmine and shock everyone by dating Alladin, or to be Cinderella, and be whisked away from a common life into the arms of Prince Charming. I went back and forth, but in every dream, it wasn’t really a prince or a castle I was dealing with, it was you. I wanted to be able to live in the White House, but not do any of the political work. THAT stuff sounds like a nightmare.

Love, Amy