Dear Mr. President

"I took all the sunshine and rain

All my happiness and all my pain

The dark evening stars

And the morning sky of blue

And I sent it in my letter to you." - Bruce Springsteen, Letter to You

I started 2017 pledging to write the newly installed President Trump a personal letter every day. I told myself that I could cope with the 2016 election results - and my fears for the Trump presidency - by sending him a daily note to both express my concerns and wish him success. And maybe make a few suggestions.

It was not just an attempt to guide him to do the right things. It was a daily reminder of what I valued, what I dreamt, what I strived for.

It started out innocently enough. I vowed to send words of encouragement, and to refrain from undue criticism. I tried – I really did. It felt good to turn the other cheek, to send him reassurance and support, even though it went against every grain in my body.

Then it fell apart. Every day, he did something that shocked the country. He constantly took action to tear down everything his predecessor had accomplished for the American people. Night after night he rage-tweeted insults and barbs, leaving political carcasses behind for the right-wing vultures to pick apart. And obviously, he never read a word I wrote. So, I gave up after a few months. It just seemed futile. I was wasting my energy and time, and my letters had become bitter. I was doing what Trump was doing, and it went against everything I believed. So, I stopped.

I never received any acknowledgement from the president or his office of correspondence, other than a flimsy form-letter. I did not really expect to, but it would have been nice to know that someone gave at least a passing glance to my messages. I'll bet no one in his administration gave two squirts what the American citizens had to say - other than his sycophants, or a token boy scout or veteran. They probably never even opened the mail. But they should have.

The Presidential Office of Correspondence is more than 100 years old, started in 1897 under President William McKinley. The purpose of the office is to handle mail, draft letters, and messages, (now) answer phone calls, process gifts, and pass on information to appropriate agencies. When the office first opened, McKinley received about 100 letters a day; by the time FDR was in office, that number soared to 8,000 a day.

During President Obama's first year in office, he received tens of thousands of letters, emails, and packages per day. He asked his aides to select ten representative samples each day so he could stay on top of public perceptions to inform his decisions. I like to think that one of those letters was mine.

I don't know why, but I didn't write to him until the final days of his presidency. I guess I felt like he already had a full plate, and besides, I trusted him to do the right thing. He didn’t need my help.

But as the end of his presidency drew near, I wanted him to know how much I appreciated everything he had done, and how proud I was to have called him my President. And a few weeks later, I received a personal email from Barack Obama.

He told me that none of our accomplishments were inevitable—they were the result of people from every background and station in life stepping forward and embracing the important responsibilities of citizenship. He stated that as long as we continue working in common effort and presuming the inherent goodness in one another, he was confident our brightest days will always lie ahead.

It reaffirmed my belief that by opening up to each other and affirming our shared hopes for a better country, we could do anything. And more than that, I realized that we touch each other's lives by taking pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) and engaging in civil discourse.

So despite my failure in 2017, I began 2018, 2019 and 2020 the same way – turning over a new leaf and vowing to do a better job of writing to President Trump. And to be civil, and respectful, and even uplifting. I would send Bible verses; short quotes from other presidents; even sayings by Mister Rogers – hoping something would break through and grab his attention. But every time, I ran out of gas when his tone-deaf administration continued to mock the American people. I knew I would never make even a small scratch in the pancake-made up bronze veneer of this man. I gave up – again and again. What was the use?

My new year's resolution was a failure for four years. In my final letter to Trump, I wished him health and safety and offered to pray for his soul. But I reminded him that justice always wins, and that his day in court was not far away. I locked up that letter box and burned it.

But I am revving up my keyboard again, vowing to write President Biden a short letter each day to encourage him and remind him that we are depending on him. It ain't Shakespeare, but each letter feels GOOD. I know someone is reading his letters; heck, HE probably reads them.

So, I am trying again. And this time, I think I will keep my resolution. When you know you are reaching someone – touching someone – you bond. You make a difference. And that is what each of us – and what America – needs right now. More than ever.

As Bruce Springsteen intimated in his most recent album Letter to You, we need to connect with each other. Because we are everything.

“In my letter to you

I took all my fears and doubts

In my letter to you

All the hard things that I found out

In my letter to you

All that I found true

And I sent it in my letter to you.” (Bruce Springsteen, Letter to You)

Very sincerely yours, Mr. President. I am very sincerely yours.