Where do I start? First, I am not a young adult. I borrowed this book accidentally, had a laugh, then decided I should go ahead and read it. As a tutor it's always good to have new book ideas on hand. But I loved it, whatever age it was designed for.
President Obama is so insightful and interesting it's hard to pick out just a couple of passages, but here you are:
*p 225, "What is family? Is it just a genetic chain, parents and children? Or is it two people who choose each other--who form a partnership--with the idea that together they will form a household? Does sharing the same memories make you family?
My own family were so complex and confusing that I'd never found a definite answer. Instead, I drew a series of circles around myself. An inner circle--where love was constant and unquestioned--almost taken for granted. Then a second circle, in which love and commitment were freely chosen. And then a circle for colleagues and acquaintances, like the cheerful gray-haired lady who rang up my groceries back in Chicago."
Or this: *p 233, about his father, he was told: "...You must learn from his life. If you have something, then everyone will want a piece of it. So you have to draw the line somewhere. If everyone is family, no one is family. Your father, he never understood this."
Or this: * p 292, his half sister Auma tells him about the special trees, and Obama thinks that it is true, "Each tree seemed to possess its own character--not generous, not cruel, but simply enduring, with secrets whose depths I would never plumb. They looked as if they might uproot themselves and simply walk away, if it weren't for the knowledge that on this earth one place is not so different from another --the knowledge that one moment carries within it all that's gone before."
In this book (which was first published in 1995), President Obama tells about his one visit with his late father, the senior Barack, who came to stay with his family in Hawaii for one month when he was 10. It is heartbreaking for the reader to realize he never saw him again, but I won't spoil the book for you and tell you why this is. I was heartened that they did write after that visit, albeit there were also periods of estrangement.
You will wonder reading this why the author sought to become anything other than a writer. He is so eloquent, so perceptive, and so lyrical in his prose-writing that he rivals the very best of non-fiction writers. I enjoyed particularly getting to see Kenya through his eyes and looking at how a family system, no matter how flawed, defines so much of our identity. Even miles and seas apart, we are our parents'children. The postscript (written in 2004) at the end for his mother Ann Dunham, who had died of cancer after he wrote the text, broke my heart, and I cried. She was a good woman, a scientist, who never spoke badly of the senior Barack. That was a gift.