'Hamilton' is, of course, closely tied to the Obamas because Lin

Phillipa Soo, who herself gave life to Eliza Hamilton upon the stage, once reflected: “Hamilton is, of course, closely tied to the Obamas because Lin first performed the opening number at a White House poetry jam.” This statement carries with it not only the story of a musical, but the story of a cultural awakening, when art and leadership intertwined to spark a flame that would illuminate the world. For what seemed at first a single performance—a song about a forgotten Founding Father—became the seed of a phenomenon that reshaped how history could be told, and how the voices of the present could meet the voices of the past.

The origin is as remarkable as the creation itself. Lin-Manuel Miranda, long before his work filled Broadway stages, stood within the White House, a place heavy with history and power, and shared the first words of what would become Hamilton. Before the President and First Lady, before leaders of nations and poets of the land, he performed the tale of an immigrant who rose by words, courage, and relentless will. That night, art and politics did not stand apart—they clasped hands. A story of revolution was sung in the house of power, and those who listened felt the spark of something greater than mere entertainment.

The moment was poetry, not only because of the rhyme and rhythm of Miranda’s words, but because it showed that the arts could breathe life into history, making it vivid, urgent, and alive. The Obamas, champions of cultural voices and diverse narratives, recognized at once that this was no ordinary performance. It was a reminder that nations are not built by abstractions, but by human beings of flesh and fire, whose struggles and dreams still echo in the present. Soo’s words remind us that this was the root of Hamilton’s ascent—from the White House stage to the world stage.

History itself provides parallels. In ancient courts, kings welcomed poets to speak truths that warriors could not. When Homer recited his verses, he gave Greece its memory, shaping its identity more powerfully than the swords of generals. When Shakespeare’s plays were performed before Elizabeth and James, they revealed to rulers the mirror of their own humanity. So too did Miranda, standing in the halls of American power, reveal through art a new way of remembering the nation’s story. In that moment, Hamilton became not just a musical, but a cultural reckoning.

The truth of Soo’s quote is this: sometimes, history turns on seemingly small events. A poetry jam in the White House may appear but a passing performance. Yet from it emerged a work that captured the imagination of generations, that gave children new ways to see themselves in the story of a nation, that turned classrooms into theaters and theaters into classrooms. The tie between Hamilton and the Obamas is not only historical—it is symbolic. It is the reminder that leaders who honor the arts give birth to revolutions of spirit.

The lesson is luminous: never underestimate the power of beginnings. What is performed humbly today may resound through centuries. What is spoken in a room of dozens may inspire millions. To nurture the arts, to give space for the voice of the poet and the dreamer, is to nourish the very soul of a people. When art and truth are allowed to breathe in the halls of power, nations are fortified, and futures are born.

Practical action flows from this lesson. Support the arts wherever you are, for they are not ornaments but engines of transformation. Encourage new voices, especially those who bring forgotten stories to light. Do not scorn the small stage, the open mic, the gathering of few, for from such places the next Hamilton may rise. Above all, honor the connection between creativity and truth, for when the arts speak, they remind us who we are and who we may yet become.

Thus, remember Phillipa Soo’s words: “Hamilton is, of course, closely tied to the Obamas because Lin first performed the opening number at a White House poetry jam.” What began as a song became a revolution. What began as a performance became a cultural pillar. Let us not only remember that moment but learn from it: that when the poet is given a stage, the world itself may be remade.