What historical event fascinates you the most?

The historical moment that fascinates me the most is the election of Barack Obama as the first Black President of the United States.

Not just because it happened — but because of who was able to witness it with me.

My daddy was still here. Still alert. Still sharp as he moved through his 80s and into his 90s. Watching him experience that moment — knowing what his lifetime had required him to endure — made it sacred. This wasn’t abstract history. It was personal. It was generational.

President Obama felt approachable. Human. Grounded. He carried warmth and integrity — the kind of leadership that doesn’t need volume to command respect. The kind that leads with steadiness, compassion, and restraint.

And Michelle Obama — she made me proud to be a woman of color. She showed that intelligence, grace, and strength can coexist without apology. She embodied what it looks like to stand poised under pressure and still create change through presence, commitment, and purpose.

What mattered most to me was my children and my grandchildren. They saw faces that looked like theirs in places once closed to them. They heard voices that reflected intelligence, dignity, and care. They were given visible hope, not symbolic hope.

They also witnessed leadership under attack — relentless criticism, disrespect, and noise — and still saw composure. Still saw responsibility. Still saw someone hold it together in the public eye. That mattered.

It’s strange to say this now, but I honestly recognize that time as more stable than the political climate we’re living in today. What we’re experiencing now feels reactive, chaotic, and deeply divided.

I don’t believe any president is perfect. And I understand that no one person carries that responsibility alone. I would never want it. True leadership requires education, intuition, humility, deep listening, and the courage to act in what one believes is the best interest of an entire nation — not just the loudest voices.

That moment in history mattered because it showed what was possible.

And once you’ve witnessed possibility —you never forget it.