This is the second time today my post has been cut off... here is the rest:

The rules are simple:

No snark. No Hillary bashing or Hillary-supporter baiting. Just an intelligent statement about why Obama—not as opposed to Hillary, not why we may think he is better than her, none of the usual arguments or finger-pointing—just why him. There are so many good reasons, and perhaps if we can elucidate them, others will begin to see them in a more clear (less affrontive) light.

My own will follow the jump.

A Few Reasons Why I Support Barack Obama

There is his community organizing background. Which carries over into the non-K-Street fundraising, the real-deal campaign reform. There is something distinctly hopeful about the prospect of a President who is not beholden to special interests, and who is intimately familiar with ground-up, grassroots organizing.

This ties in to his ideas about foreign policy, primary among which is the willingness—the courage—to talk with our "enemies." This is critical to me. I cannot abide four (or eight) more years of blustering threats and misguided sanctions that do not enhance the lives of anybody. Not to mention war. This is not naïve. It is humane, and it is essential.

Obama shows a willingness to listen and consider others’ perspectives, and he is trusting us to do the same. He has forged new ground in his nuanced perceptions of social issues—not only race—and he asks all Americans to focus on what we have in common rather than the superficial traits that divide us. Obama is asking us to think in new ways, to not fall back on the old rhetoric and the fears it embraces.

What he says makes sense to me. And then there is the way he says it. Of course eloquence isn't everything. Of course a President cannot simply make great speeches and call it a day. But it does matter.

When Obama speaks, I hear a person who loves this country and believes it can be and should be something more, something better, than it has been. I hear the pervasive sense of heartache so many of us feel—but with a critical distinction: Obama looks in the face of overwhelming adversity and sees change. He sees hope and hard work and better days.

All of this matters to me. And then there is my own little story:

During the days in November of 2000, when the election unfolded as if in a terrible dream, I was hospitalized with a potentially life-threatening illness. I was eight months pregnant with my second child, my daughter who is now seven years old. My son, who was almost seven at that time, did not know the seriousness of what was happening—either with his mother, or the election that would change the American landscape.

Almost eight years later, amid a rising tide of debt and engulfed in the depths of war, it was time to vote in another election. But the events of the last eight years had taken something from me. My sense of this country, of the sanctity of its ideals, had been shaken—not by the terrorists who attacked us, but by the fear-mongering elite who used our tragedy as an opportunity to advance their frightening agenda, while blatantly disregarding the tragedies that befell those without means. I felt violated.

This is not the world I want my children to grow up in. This is not the America I want them to know. I was unbelievably discouraged. But there was a candidate who spoke to me.

Often, when I hear Obama speak, I weep. But it is not only the poignancy of his words that moves me. It is my deep sense of pain, brokenness, and fear—the pain of the lies, the brokenness of the dream, and the fear of believing.

But today, I do believe. I know the road is long and hard. It is fraught with obstacles and opposition. But Obama’s clarity of vision has allowed me to see beyond those things. Obama has helped me to believe. When I hear him speak, the quiet hopefulness of my own heart says: Yes, we can.

I only hope that others come to hear it, too.