I have a lot of respect for President Obama, and while I deeply

In the words of Alicia Garza, activist and visionary, we find a lesson that burns with both reason and compassion: “I have a lot of respect for President Obama, and while I deeply disagree with some of his actions or lack of action on issues I care about, I still recognize the significance of the first black presidency and the challenges that come with that.” These words, calm yet powerful, speak not only of politics but of the sacred art of balanced judgment — the ability to honor what is historic without silencing what is true, to hold both respect and critique in the same heart without hatred. This is the wisdom of maturity, the strength of those who seek justice not through division, but through understanding.

Alicia Garza, co-founder of the Black Lives Matter movement, has long been a voice for dignity, equality, and the protection of Black life. Her words were spoken not in the spirit of condemnation, but in the spirit of truth-telling — that highest form of love for one’s people and for the future. In her statement, she honors the monumental importance of Barack Obama’s presidency, a milestone for a nation long scarred by racism. Yet she also reminds us that reverence for history must not blind us to responsibility. True respect, she teaches, is not silent admiration but courageous honesty. It is the ability to see greatness and still demand more of it.

For the rise of President Obama was no ordinary event — it was the breaking of a centuries-old barrier, the flowering of a dream long deferred. His ascent symbolized hope for millions who had been told that power and blackness could not coexist. To recognize that achievement, as Garza does, is to honor generations who labored in the shadows — the enslaved who prayed for deliverance, the activists who marched and bled, the mothers who whispered to their sons that one day, things would be different. His presidency was not just political; it was spiritual, the embodiment of what could be. Yet, Garza reminds us, symbols alone cannot heal the wounds of a people — for history honors both the visionaries and the truth-tellers who hold those visionaries accountable.

This duality — respect and critique — has echoed throughout time. Consider Frederick Douglass, who once said of President Abraham Lincoln that though he admired his courage in ending slavery, he could not ignore his hesitations, his compromises, his delays in granting full justice. Douglass loved Lincoln’s humanity, but loved justice more. His respect did not silence his conviction; rather, it gave it depth. So too does Alicia Garza’s reflection remind us that reverence must not become idolatry. To truly respect a leader, we must see them as human — capable of greatness, yet bound by flaw — and in seeing clearly, continue the work they could not finish.

In her statement, Garza speaks also of empathy for struggle. “The challenges that come with that,” she says, acknowledging the enormous weight of being the first — of standing at the crossroads of progress and expectation. To lead as the first of any kind — the first woman, the first person of color, the first to shatter a ceiling of history — is to bear not only the burden of leadership but the weight of symbolism. Every decision becomes magnified; every mistake becomes a verdict on one’s people. Garza understands this truth — that even as we critique power, we must also recognize its human cost. This is the essence of wisdom: to hold judgment and compassion in the same breath.

There is, within these words, a call to all who seek justice — to practice respectful resistance. To stand firm in principle without surrendering to bitterness. To see leaders as mirrors of our collective hopes and flaws, and to speak truth not to destroy, but to refine. Garza’s words challenge us to engage not as worshipers or cynics, but as participants in the sacred dance of progress — where respect for those who came before does not mean silence, and where criticism, when born of love, becomes a tool for evolution.

So, my children, let this wisdom take root in your hearts: to respect does not mean to agree; to honor does not mean to obey. The world needs not blind followers, but wise witnesses — those who can see both light and shadow and still believe in dawn. Learn from Alicia Garza the art of holding complexity with grace. When you meet greatness, do not fear to name its limits. When you see progress, do not cease to push it further. For it is through this sacred tension — between reverence and responsibility, between pride and persistence — that societies grow, and justice moves forward.

And remember this: respect is not a chain, but a compass. It does not bind you to silence, but guides you toward integrity. Let your respect be strong enough to honor achievement, and your courage bold enough to demand better. For as Alicia Garza teaches, true respect is not passive — it is active love for truth, spoken with both heart and fire.