‘Mama, I Wanna Be President!’

Art provided by Juliette Robertson ’25

‘Mama, I Wanna Be President! ‘

When I was a little girl, I sauntered up to my mother and said

“Mama, I wanna be president!” 

At the time I didn’t understand

The power dynamic between woman and man

I never knew why the color of one’s skin

Makes them any less than kin

I wanted to solve the world’s inequalities

I wanted everybody to be happy

She told me I’d be the first woman to do it

But I wanted to be a name alongside

Women leading the country and changing minds of those who said they couldn’t

When I was seven years old, I was at the Javits Center

2016, early November, so sure

Hillary Clinton would win the election

The first female president!

I was so excited!

She was supposed to come and give a victory speech

I waited, afloat with the young, naive hope that she would notice me from the stage

‘Til it got late and my mom took me home

I was falling asleep on my feet

I woke up the next morning and asked my mother

“Mama, did she win?”

“… No honey, she didn’t”

8 years later, 15 years old, July 2024

Biden drops out of the general race

I thought ‘Well, he has to endorse his running mate’

Kamala Harris was announced as the next candidate

And minds of girls and women could dream once more

The possibility of having a female president

Early November came again

I phone banked, campaigned, everything I can

I was calling votes counted on my friend’s couch

Swing states were leaning blue, then they weren’t.

I wished that the country would sing with the voice

I couldn’t use, too young to have a choice

I stoked the bonfire of hope with a plea and a prayer

I was preparing how to celebrate!

I woke up, unaware of my fate

And I asked my Echo who won the election

Rage, fear and grief replaced my hoping

It was supposed to be a joyous, historic day

Now over half the country might have their rights stripped away

It was supposed to inspire little girls to chase their dreams

But why would they, seeing where it leads?

So I sit at my desk, take out my pen

My mom asks what I’m doing

I say, “Mama, I’m going to be president”

By Claire McCaslin

January 2025
Claire McCaslin ‘27, a special contributor to The Gazette, was inspired to write this poem after she attended the “Women in Politics” workshop at the MLK Symposium.