Ten Letters: The Stories Americans Tell Their President

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Every day, President Obama reads ten representative letters among the thousands he receives from citizens across the land. The letters come from people of all ages, walks of life, and political points of view. Some are heart­breaking, some angry, some hopeful. Indeed, Obama reads as many letters addressed “Dear Jackass” as “Dear Mr. President.” Eli Saslow, a young and rising star at the Washington Post, became fascinated by the power of these letters and set out to find the ...
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Overview

Every day, President Obama reads ten representative letters among the thousands he receives from citizens across the land. The letters come from people of all ages, walks of life, and political points of view. Some are heart­breaking, some angry, some hopeful. Indeed, Obama reads as many letters addressed “Dear Jackass” as “Dear Mr. President.” Eli Saslow, a young and rising star at the Washington Post, became fascinated by the power of these letters and set out to find the stories behind them.

Through the lens of ten letters to which Obama responded personally, this exceptionally relevant and poignant book explores those individual stories, taking an in-depth look at the misfortunes, needs, opinions, and, yes, anger over the current state of the country that inspired ten people to put pen to paper. Surprisingly, what also emerges from these affecting personal narratives is a story about the astounding endurance and optimism of the American people.

Ten Letters
is an inspiring and important book about ordi­nary people and the issues they face every day—the very issues that are shaping America’s future. This is not an insider Washington book by any means, but a book for the times that tells the real American stories of today.

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Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly
Saslow, staff writer at the Washington Post, samples the American mood by surveying the letters sent to President Obama in this disappointingly superficial survey. Every day, 20,000 Americans write the president, and the White House mail staff selects, and the president reads, 10 letters and e-mails each evening—he considers them “his most important daily reading.” The author selects 10 such letters, tracking down their writers, and reporting on their backstories in an effort to personify, if not dramatize, issues—including health care reform, failing schools, gay bullying, and immigration reform. As Saslow notes, “the unmistakable message” of these missives is that America is struggling, but while he notes that the White House mail staff picked the most representative 10 pieces daily, he neglects to reveal the basis for his own 10 selections. The president claims that he “learned more about key issues from some letters than he did from his own staff” and admits revealingly that he is often frustrated that he can’t help the letter writers on an individual basis and be their “social worker” and “advocate.” There is much that is moving in such passages, but the writers of the letters—and the issues themselves—do not emerge clearly enough to sustain our interest or really edify us on the issues at hand. (Oct.)
From the Publisher
Praise for TEN LETTERS:

Ten Letters is a luminous book. Eli Saslow, one of the great young journalists in America, has found his way around the cynicism and superficiality of Washington politics to show the profound real-life connections between the White House and the people.”
-- David Maraniss

"In this testament to the power of the written word, the country's most vexing challenges, from immigration to education, healthcare to housing, are seen through the eyes of both persons directly affected by them and one person uniquely positioned to do something about them."
--Booklist

Kirkus Reviews

Every evening, President Obama sits down to read ten letters selected from the 20,000 that arrived in the day's mail. Who are these people, and what are their stories?

In his first book, Washington Post staffer Saslow narrates the stories of a small sample of these correspondents. A Michigan couple faces a multiple array of problems, from skin cancer to the threat of bankruptcy. A top student at a Catholic high school in Philadelphia is inspired by the president to run for class president, and wins; his mother, who can't find work, worries about how she'll afford his college. A military wife in Richmond, Va., worries about her husband in Afghanistan and tries to cope with his erratic behavior when he comes home. In Arizona, a young Hispanic woman describes the culture of fear and racism created by an immigration bill. When the president responds to these letters, as he often does, the recipient gets a boost of enthusiasm, and sometimes, national celebrity. When Natoma Canfield, a 50-year-old cleaning woman suffering from cancer, presented a perfect horror story about her maltreatment by her insurance company, the president was so impressed that he cited her case at length while discussing the health-care bill. One of the standout letters came from an amazingly mature 10-year-old girl named Na'Dreya Lattimore, who wrote the president on conditions in her Ohio classroom; the president included parts of it in one of his speeches on education.

Certainly, this is an Obama-centric book in which every chapter shows the president nobly dealing with the larger issues addressed in these letters; only one of the letters is negative, and some of the stories are bland. The best, however, offer an intimate glimpse into the lives of people who are hopeful, and sometimes desperate, to be heard.

Ron Reagan
Saslow has a feel for the tender spots in these people's stories and a former sportswriter's good sense to keep things moving along. If the details of these varied strangers' lives sometimes fail to captivate, the plainspokenness, decency and human dignity they display leave a lasting impression…Woven throughout the letter writers' personal stories are accounts of the policy fights and presidential decisions with which they glancingly intersect. The reporting here…breaks no new ground but nevertheless provides a useful context and a pointed reminder that the action—and inaction—in the nation's capital creates real consequences in the lives of people who are all but invisible to their elected leaders.
—The Washington Post
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780385534307
  • Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
  • Publication date: 10/11/2011
  • Pages: 304
  • Product dimensions: 9.46 (w) x 6.44 (h) x 1.00 (d)

Meet the Author

ELI SASLOW is a staff writer at the Washington Post, where he covered the 2008 presidential cam­paign and has chronicled the president’s life inside the White House. Previously a sportswriter for the Post, he has won multiple awards for news and feature writing. Two of his stories have also appeared in Best American Sports Writing.
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Read an Excerpt

Chapter 1
 
 
“I lost my job, my health benefits and my self worth in a matter of 5 days.”
 
The nightly briefing book arrived at the White House residence just before 8:00 p.m., hand--delivered to President Obama by a junior member of his staff. It was a large, three--ring binder that had been covered in black leather and stamped with the presidential seal, and Obama sometimes eyed it wearily and lamented the arrival of what he called his “homework packet.” Each night brought another few hundred pages of policy memos and scheduling notes, another deluge of intelligence about two wars, terrorist plots, and the tumbling U.S. economy. Some documents Obama only skimmed. Others he set aside to read the next morning.
 
He opened the binder and reached for a thin purple folder--the one item that he always read, and usually read first. The contents inside the purple folder had become a fixture of his presidency, shaping his speeches and informing his policies. Senior advisers had referred to it by turns as Obama’s “lifeline,” “inspiration,” “connection to reality,” and “guide to what people really care about.” On this evening, the folder had been labeled with the date: “January 8,
2010.”
 
It was a snowy Friday night, the end of another long day at the end of another long week inside the White House. Obama and his family had recently returned from a ten-day trip to Hawaii, but he joked to friends that he already craved another vacation. In Washington, Obama had come back to a Republican resurgence that threatened the passage of his health-care bill; to the attempted terrorist bombing of a passenger flight over Michigan; to the latest American death in Afghanistan, from an explosion on January 3; to the mounting resistance of Tea Party protesters, some of whom marched across the street from his house and waved Obama-Hitler signs; to an approval rating of 50 percent and dropping, the lowest for a second-year president in more than half a century; to the increasingly feeble defense of his own press secretary, Robert Gibbs, who, on this day, had stood in front of eighty reporters during a regular briefing and said of his boss’s current outlook: “I would say the president is worried about today and worried about the future.”
 
Hours earlier, Obama had made a short statement of his own. It had once again fallen on him to deliver bad news, so he had entered the East Room of the White House at 2:45 p.m., displaying what had become some of his most familiar gestures--the body language of disappointment. He narrowed his eyes, pursed his lips, and offered a solemn nod once he reached the lectern. Another eighty-five thousand people had lost their jobs during the last month, he said. More than four million had lost jobs in the last year. Almost one million had given up on looking for work entirely. “Today’s numbers,” Obama said, frowning and squinting into the camera lights, “are a reminder that the road to recovery is never straight.”
 
There were other reminders: the new gray hair spreading across the sides of Obama’s head, the heavy creases running across his cheeks, and the dark circles deepening below his eyes. The president still looked remarkably fit for forty-eight years old, but some medical experts believed the last twelve months had aged Obama by two or three years. His cholesterol was climbing, and he continued to rely on the occasional cigarette to calm his nerves. Like all presidents, he described his responsibilities as never-ending, and his aides conceded that they had underestimated the range of issues Obama would face during his first term. He had flown 152 times on Air Force One in the last year, visiting 30 states and 21 countries. He had given 160 news interviews, delivered 412 speeches, and spoken at 5 funerals. He had committed to a war in Afghanistan and received the Nobel Peace Prize. On an average day, he squeezed in a morning workout after his daughters left for school, rushed to a national security meeting at 8:30 a.m., and continued working virtually uninterrupted until nearly midnight. He usually spent the last two hours of his workday on a couch at home, where he fought off sleep and read the briefing book.
 
Now he opened the purple folder and glanced at the cover sheet.
 
“Memorandum to the president,” it read. “Per your request, we have attached 10 pieces of unvetted correspondence addressed to you.”
 
Inside, Obama found crumpled notebook paper, smudged ink, sloppy handwriting, and misspelled words--a collection of ten letters from constituents that he considered his most important daily reading. One letter was from a grade-schooler asking for help on his spelling homework; another was from an unemployed mother demanding a job. Depending on the nature of each letter, Obama sometimes copied them for senior advisers, distributed them to members of his cabinet, or read parts aloud to his wife before bed.
 
He had first requested a sampling of ten letters on his second day as president, and the purple folder had come six days a week ever since, couriered to Obama even when he was away at Camp David or traveling abroad. The White House mail staff sorted through twenty thousand letters and e‑mails addressed to Obama every day, screening for security threats, categorizing by topic, and then picking the most representative ten pieces for the purple folder. The letters chosen each day were the most intimate connection Obama had left to the people he governed. He believed the wide-ranging feedback--quick e‑mails and thoughtful letters; congratulations and condemnations--offered him a unique view beyond the presidential bubble into what he called “the real America,” a place of uncensored opinion. “I will tell you,” Obama had said, laughing, “my staff is very evenhanded, because about half of these letters call me an idiot.” He loved the give and take, aides said. He always read all ten letters and typically wrote back to one or two writers each day, usually responding by hand to those who offered articulate criticism or moving stories of hardship. Obama often said that the letters not only reminded him of why he had run for president; they also reminded him of all the work he had left to do.
 
But lately the tenor of the letters had changed, becoming darker. There were fewer glowing, post-inauguration thank-you notes and more missives addressed to “Dear Jackass,” “Dear Moron,” or “Dear Socialist.” Former campaign volunteers wrote to express disillusionment; other people shared stories of how Obama’s policies had failed them. Earlier in the day, during his somber speech in the East Room, Obama had spoken about the America now reflected back to him in the mail at the beginning of his second year in office. “In the letters that I receive at night,” he had said, “I often hear from Americans who are facing hard times--Americans who’ve lost their jobs or can’t afford to pay their bills. They’re worried about what the future holds.”
 
This had become the unmistakable message delivered each day inside the purple folder: America was struggling. Its president was struggling. Both desperately needed a better year ahead.
 
Obama reached into the folder on January 8 and removed the first letter. It was three pages long and written on lined notebook paper. He had always preferred handwritten notes to e‑mails, believing them to be more thoughtful and to contain better stories. The return address showed Monroe, Michigan. The writing consisted of bubbly block letters, sometimes traced twice for emphasis. Obama started to read.
 
“Dear Mr. President,” the letter began.
 
 
 
Jennifer Cline, twenty-seven, did not usually write letters, but she was not usually this bored. Wheel of Fortune had ended. Jeopardy! had ended. Her husband was out working the midnight shift, and her two sons had gone to bed. She sat in the living room of their small duplex in Monroe, Michigan, flipping aimlessly through the channels on her big-screen television. Obama’s face appeared on the screen, and she set down the remote.
 
She had liked Obama ever since the beginning of his 2008 presidential campaign. He seemed more accessible than other politicians, she thought, and she viewed him as a contemporary. He had two young daughters; she had two young sons. He came from the middle class, and so did she. His campaign had converted her from a halfhearted Democrat into an advocate who stuck a sign in her front yard and argued with relatives who refused to vote for Obama because of his race. “He’s more like us than any other politician,” she had told them, but now the program on television gave her doubts. It was a holiday special about life inside the White House. She watched as Obama chased his dog across a manicured lawn, laughed with his daughters about their giant Christmas tree, tossed a football in the Oval Office, and stood next to a showcase of formal china. Jen looked around her own low-budget rental, with its faux-brick interior, milk stains on the television screen, white sheets draped over used furniture, and an aging pit bull snoring at her feet. She wondered: Does he really know what this life is like?
 
She reached across the coffee table and ripped a few pages from her eldest son’s elementary-school notebook. She had always loved to write, once spending a year on an unpublished autobiography and keeping a regular journal during times of high stress. Lately she had been writing a lot in that journal. She began her letter in the top left corner--“Dear Mr. President”--and then skipped a line before writing again.
 
“Mr. Obama,” she continued, “I am going to begin by telling you about my life over the past 2 years.”
 
Where to start? She had been living in a two-story, riverside home with her boyfriend when the Michigan economy began to collapse in 2007. She lost her longtime job as a pharmacy technician in May of that year, downsized with three days’ notice. Her mother, also a pharmacy tech, was laid off on the same day. Her boyfriend’s new swimming-pool business sold two pools all summer, sunk $30,000 into debt, and was shuttered. The bank foreclosed on their house. Jen and her son, Brenden, moved into her parents’ double-wide trailer in the Detroit suburbs, where her father, a mechanic, paid the bills even though his own work at the Chevrolet dealership had been cut to fifteen hours a week. A few days after she moved in, Jen found out she was pregnant with her second son.
 
In her letter to Obama, she reduced all of that to: “I lost my job, my health benefits and my self worth in a matter of 5 days.”
 
She applied for a dozen jobs every week while working part-time as a bartender. Kohl’s, a budget department store, asked her to come in for an interview, so she bought a new dress and showed up at the appointed time only to discover that it was a group interview shared with thirty-five other candidates. Home Depot offered her a job, but the store was forty-five miles away and the $7-an-hour wage was less than the cost of child care. Finally, late in 2008, Jen programmed a new number into her cell phone under the name MARVIN (Michigan Automated Response Voice Interactive Network), and called it to request unemployment assistance. She joked with other unemployed friends about throwing a MARVIN party since the android had become such a regular part of their lives. After Jen called a few dozen times, MARVIN granted her unemployment assistance of $850 a month.
 
In the letter, that became: “In Michigan, Mr. President, jobs are very difficult to land.”
 
The $850 wasn’t enough, not even close, so Jen used food stamps to buy groceries and credit cards to buy almost everything else. She got a card from Bank of America with a $3,000 limit and maxed it out within a few months. Interest and late fees mounted to a debt of $15,000 and Bank of America sued. So did another credit card company. And another. Soon Jen owed more than $50,000--debts to three credit card companies, two doctors’ offices, a car dealership, and a community college.
 
Her skin started to break out in rashes, but she put off seeing a doctor because she no longer had health insurance. It was probably just stress, she thought. But the rashes kept spreading, so she applied for Medicaid and was repeatedly denied until, on her fourth visit to the caseworker, she pulled up her shirt in the middle of the office to reveal a series of deep red streaks on her chest and back.
 
That became: “I was then diagnosed with both melonoma and basal cell skin cancer and had to begin chemotherapy without health insurance.”
 
Her letter was starting to feel like a downer, Jen thought, which was not what she had intended. She reached into her son’s notebook and ripped out another page. She wanted to tell Obama about how she and her boyfriend, Jay, had finally gotten married in November and splurged on the open bar. How Brenden had secretly stashed away months of his allowance and offered to contribute $95 to the wedding reception. How, after radiation, two rounds of chemo, and some plastic surgery, doctors now believed she would outlast the cancer. How her husband had found a job working the midnight shift for Delta Air Lines, and how she had received a government Pell Grant to take classes toward a nursing degree at the local community college.
 
That became: “And in just a couple of years, we’ll be in a great spot. We can both have a great job, and hopefully stop renting, and buy a home.”
 
Jen had filled almost three pages in less than ten minutes, more a stream-of-consciousness journal entry than a formal note. She considered it unlikely that anyone would ever read it, let alone Obama, but she hardly cared. She felt the same way about the letter as she did about her unpublished autobiography: It was cathartic just to share her life story. “Hope this letter finds you in great health and happiness,” she concluded. Then she signed her name at the bottom: “Jennifer Cline,” which was what only bill collectors called her, but somehow “Jen” seemed too informal for the president. She had never been to Washington, and she looked up the zip code on the Internet. Then she grabbed a standard white envelope and addressed it to “The White House.”
 
As Jen walked downstairs to the mailbox, she thought about the one item she had decided against including in the letter: She and Jay had begun to consider filing for bankruptcy. Jen had already been granted a Chapter 7 bankruptcy a year earlier, but Jay was still more than $60,000 in debt. Their combined annual income was $24,000. They had spent a few weeks running through the calculations and determined that, in a best-case scenario, it would take them forty years to pay off what they owed. Bankruptcy, which would erase almost all of Jay’s debt, seemed like their only way out.
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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 5
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Sort by: Showing all of 7 Customer Reviews
  • Posted January 18, 2013

    more from this reviewer

    A few weeks ago I received an email about a Washington Post auth

    A few weeks ago I received an email about a Washington Post author who was visiting the local school’s campus to sign copies of his new book. I had never heard of the book itself, but the title sounded vaguely familiar, so I hopped on Google and did a little searching. It turns out that the book sounded familiar because it was familiar. “Ten Letters” was, in fact, something that President Obama reads on a daily basis.




    The author, Eli Saslow, is a Washington Post writer and this fact may have been more exciting to me than the book itself (until I read it, that is). As a self-proclaimed news junkie, any brush with the Post is exciting, so I ran out and bought, quite literally, the last copy of the book in town. I didn’t have time to read it before I had it signed, but I met the author and vowed to read it soon.




    It’s now a few weeks later and I was finally able to read the book.”Ten Letters” is made up of ten chapters, each one following the stories of various individuals who wrote the President and received a response. It is so powerful that the local college, University of North Carolina Wilmington, has its own version of it that is handed out to every single incoming freshman. It is, I believe, required reading for their English classes and reiterates the power of one single voice. I’m half tempted to write the President a letter, too, because this is a book that will resonate with every reader.




    “Ten Letters” explores the issues that everyday Americans encounter, including a lack of access to education, rising health costs, the BP oil spill, and more. Each of these issues and stories is familiar. I could personally identify with the effects of the rising costs of healthcare and higher education. I sympathized with Jessica Duran, a high schooler who couldn’t find a part-time job to pay the bills. My heart broke for Na’Dreya Lattimore, the fifth grader that felt she was being shafted in her pursuit of a quality education. I cried reading about Jon Santos and the It Gets Better Project. And while each of the writers received a personal response from the President, only some had a happy ending. I know it is unrealistic to expect a happy ending in a book that chronicles real life issues, but for some reason I went into the book thinking that those were the only letters that would be chosen.




    Despite this reality, the book is a wonderful read. It opened my eyes to the people affected by the issues, not to the issues themselves. I think that in today’s world it is very easy to become disconnected from those around us. The media bombards us with sad stories and statistics, but rarely do we get to dive deep into the lives of the people living the stories. This book lets us do just that.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted January 23, 2012

    Wonderful read!

    This book is very well written and filled with touching stories, as well as historic events. No reader will be disappointed.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted September 28, 2013

    Blizzard

    Now try result five...

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 17, 2012

    Very Good Read

    I brought this book for myself and also gave it as a holiday gift. The Ten Letters is welles. written and I enjoyed reading the stories.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted November 24, 2011

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted November 13, 2011

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted December 13, 2011

    No text was provided for this review.

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