I was in my house in my dad’s bedroom (he lives with me and my family). I was looking in a mirror. I was actually pulling my bottom teeth out. (Go figure!) Suddenly Obama walks in and looks around the room … sits on the bed and talks to me … I did not hear what he was talking about, but at that moment i noticed gold caps on my pulled out teeth and was very curious about that. I do not have gold in my mouth. He was talking to my dad about something which still there was no sound for me to understand what he was saying. Then I walked out of the room to my bedroom and started worrying about my facial features without teeth. Then Obama walked into My bedroom and looked around then sat down again on my bed. I still did not hear what he was saying but began wondering about what his wife would say if she knew he was in my house…I woke up then.
From a 44-year old Connecticut woman, a caregiver for her disabled husband, on April 30, 2011.
She felt “curious” about the dream when she woke up, but it didn’t change her views about Obama (she is not registered to vote and said “other” when asked to describe her political ideology). Perhaps the dream reflects her waking attitude towards Obama–she doesn’t hear anything she says. He does enter her personal space, though, a possible boundary-violation which gets her attention.
Her focus is on her teeth and facial appearance, compared to which a personal visit from the President is far less meaningful and important. I don’t know any details about this woman’s life beyond this, but if she’s caring for a disabled husband plus an elderly father, she must lead a life full of service to others. The dream might then reflect the challenge of balancing care of self vs. care of others.
The gold is an intriguing detail, something that is not accurately representing waking reality. Something of inner value?
If it were my dream, I’d wonder what my dad and Obama were talking about. Does my dad have any opinions about Obama in waking life? Is there a connection in terms of male authority?
I was living in a tiny house in my grandparent’s backyard and Obama was my dad. I didn’t like living with him so I was trying to run away, but for some reason I kept getting stuck right after this one huge tree. So I was just hiding behind this tree when I see Obama through a window in the house and he’s talking to this blonde woman dressed in a light blue suit, and I can hear them talking about me and wondering where I am. There was this squirrel on the window sill that was making these really loud noises, so Obama was getting annoyed. He says “hold on a minute,” to the lady and reaches under the table and takes out a huge machine gun and shoots the squirrel into a million pieces! the lady starts crying and tries to put the squirrel back together but it just keeps falling apart. Finally, I come out from behind the tree and glue it back together for her.
From a 19-year old female student from Georgia, on October 9, 2010.
The dreamer, a moderate Republican, though the dream was “funny” and now associates President Obama with this image of blowing up a squirrel.
She reported the dream to me on May 2, 2011, just before the President’s announcement that a US military team had shot and killed Osama bin Laden.
The dream portrays Obama as a frightening, unpredictable father figure. Perhaps this reflects something in the dreamer’s personal life relationship with her actual father. It could also mirror the political views of a Republican in Georgia towards Obama’s Presidency–being stuck with an authority figure you don’t like, you don’t trust, and you fear is going to destroy things you care about.
This was not a pleasant dream; it was tense. I was somehow conscripted as a sort of temporary nanny help for Obama’s girls. Malia had a serious dental problem that needed fixing (I myself am in need of a bridge). I was not able (allowed?) to take her to dentist, as it turned out, I made myself at home and fell asleep on the sofa. Late at night BO asked me if I knew it was nearly midnight. I didn’t realize I had overstayed! A former acquaintance bumped into me and pretended she needed a place to stay, which she didn’t, and I knew it was only a ruse to try to get close to Obama. That’s all I remember.
From an older woman, January 2009
About herself the dreamer says: “I am a 64-yr-old yellow-dog-liberal Bush-hating grandmother of 3, perfectly soggy with relief and happiness about our new president. I worry that I worship him. I taped a photo of him with his family on my work computer.”
A similar theme appeared in the dream posted a few days ago (“Putting His Daughters to Bed”), in which the dreamer imagines herself as part of the Obama family’s “inner circle.”
In this case the dreamer acknowledges her tendency to “worship” Obama and idolize his family. This dream seems to raise questions about that waking attitude, or at least consider its less pleasant consequences in terms of hidden problems and boundary anxieties.
Barack was sitting at a table with Michelle standing beside him. There were others around, aides and such, and he was already sworn in as President. Somebody introduced us, and instead of shaking his hand, I hugged him. Then I stood back and hugged him again. I don’t think I spoke, but he laughed and took my crazy adoration in stride. Then he made me the girls’ and the dream skipped ahead to me standing by a black suburban, picking up Sasha and Malia from school. I even put them to bed that night. They slept in these huge double beds, side by side in an enormous bedroom.
From a 30-year old married woman in Minnesota, January 2009.
About herself she says, “I have wanted Obama to be president since he won his Senate seat in 2006. I work in nonprofit development raising money for ACORN and Project Vote. THERE WAS NO VOTER FRAUD! It was a dirty scheme to make the public distrustful and suspicious…lo and behold! It worked! And McCain still lost. Funny how that worked out.””
As with many other reports elsewhere on the site, this one features a strong Obama supporter in waking life who dreams of expressing that enthusiasm directly and intimately with Obama himself.
The apparently fragmentary text just before the point where “the dream skips ahead” makes it hard to tell what has happened to the dreamer–has she become the Obama’s nanny? or has she replaced Michelle as mother? or is she just a very close family friend? The ambiguity may reflect the complexities of her “crazy adoration” for Obama in both dreaming and waking life.
When a person feels so passionately about a politician, it seems likely that deeper dimensions of a person’s worldview and life experience have been aroused, so that supporting (or attacking) the politician becomes a means of expressing the person’s ultimate values and self-identity.
Without knowing anything else about the dreamer and her personal life, we can still interpret her dream in collective terms as a vivid fantasy of safety and nurturance within the inner sanctum of American political power, a fantasy made possible (in the view of his supporters) by Obama’s rise to the Presidency.
My fiancee and I went to the White House to an Illinois-only party, which was the only one Barack was attending. Barack had his Blackberry and I had my new iPhone, so I struck up a conversation with him at a long, rustic wood mess hall table. Everyone at the party was clicking beer glasses in toasts over the table and Barack put his arm around my waist and leaned in to make a toast, but his hand moved up, unbeknownst to him, so that he was groping me. I was going to tell him but I didn’t want to embarrass him. Later my fiancee and I took a tour of the White House on our own and saw Barack downloading an iPhone app that would allow him to monitor his daughters as they slept, to make sure nothing bad happened to them. Later in our self-guided tour, we overheard Barack in his study, drinking Scotch and watching what sounded like porn. He heard us in the hallway, changed the channel came out and offered to show us around. We declined, saying, “You’re tired, just rest. We’ll show ourselves around.” (I wasn’t bothered by the porn. I thought, the man probably needs to unwind.)
From a 28-year old female writer in Chicago, January of 2009.