This city is a country itself, which welcomes FBI agents and men with wide shoulders and filthy hands from its pure doors. They enter me with their charcoal black suits and hand cases containing millions of dead trees, thinking they own the world. But I can never blame this city, maybe because I was born and raised here, in which the walls, stairs, windows, halls and rooms treasure many of my memories; memories of happiness, sadness, and celebrations. However, the ordinary days I avoid to remember. To let them die inside me without hesitation. Today, after all those years, after more than one disappointment and scar, I have an epiphany, that maybe countries can be orphans too; that there are humiliating countries, unjust and cruel, powerful and selfish. Those countries are without a mother; perhaps they can never form attachment, relationships or express their love.

I forgot to introduce myself. Sorry, but at least I don’t forget history, especially the ones we should never repeat. I am one of the most fascinating buildings in America. I host influencers, inspirations and important information. Now you may be smart enough to guess that I’m the White House in Washington DC and wondering why I didn’t just say, “I host the president of America”, and the simple answer is because it’s not something I’m proud of. Look at me. I’m white. Isn’t it supposed to be the colour of innocence, freedom and righteousness? Well I am not responsible for whatever decision the president takes nor do they have my consent. Can you keep a secret? I HATE it when news reporters write or say, “The White House has made the decision of bla bla bla”, obviously replacing ‘bla bla bla’ with something much more worse.

As you might have picked up, I do not have a very friendly relationship with my fellow presidents. But gosh it was a heartbreaking moment when I said goodbye to Mr Obama. He was the change that America needed after too many years. And no, I was not excited at all when I found out who the ‘change’ was. From the second he entered my door with straight heavy steps, my blood was boiling and searing, the stiffened clean floor was terrified of how it might become stained like stewed cherry. For many decades I saw glazed leather shoes enter my closed large door, in hope for a greater future, most likely including change. I’m usually excited and optimistic towards change, maybe because nothing is ever perfect and could be enhanced, like me.

The way he stands reflects his shiny tall skyscraper. His thin sandy hair danced with each step he takes, creating a new hairstyle every time. It has only been the first week and this orange-faced man is already making trouble. He signed an executive order to begin planning, designing and constructing a new wall between Mexico and America for ‘security reasons’. “Mexicans are rapists,” echoed in the house, in which I tried to shut the doors, windows and blinds quickly so that no one else could hear. I was embarrassed to witness this myself, but the next day he spoke the same words out in public in front of his army and they cheered, clapped and accepted his words. Ugh. I had faith in humanity once, when the whole segregation and racism towards African Americans stopped. His speech also got worse “They (Mexicans) are bringing drugs, crimes and rapists”, oh and there’s more “Donald J Trump is calling for a total and complete shutdown of Muslims entering the United States”. Why? Why do we keep on going backwards? Why don’t we move forwards?

Yes, I know his little Trump troops are in support, because they want to “make America great again”, as if America has suffered greatly over the years like working countries. I know security needs to be developed in America, but saying it like that makes it seem like a more xenophobic and a matter of bigotry, don’t you think?

Over the years and with different presidents, I have met the most amazing Mexican singers in my life! Their symphonies raced through the empty hallways in an attempt to visit every room and every wall in the house and even though the large wooden doors were nearly shut, it found a way to twist and stretch through the small opening and share the melody. Due to how loud it was, the chandeliers jiggled and waved adding a soft glistening rhythm to the song. Oh and outside the house, the fountain rose and sparked the air like an excited child about to visit a theme park, which sprinkled tiny droplets of cold water on the surrounding grass. The red tulips opened with delight becoming an extroverts and Blue Jacket Hyacinth blossomed circling the fountain.

You know the part where I said I host influencers and inspirations? Well last year I had the pleasure of hosting a very special Muslim teenager, who cannot be described in words, but I will try. Her colourful traditional clothes reflected her mind, and her black headscarf mirrored her bravery. She silenced the president, his wife and daughter when she spoke about her experience and aspiration for education. I just imagined how devastating it would be to have a bullet strike my wall by someone who hates an educated young girl. It would form noodle cracks around that bullet and leave me in scars forever. But like Malala, I might replace that crack with a steel wall and become unbreakable. They watched this golden-hearted girl with empathy, but she didn’t want that, she wanted change. “Instead of sending guns, send books. Instead of sending weapons, send teachers. Developed countries should focus on education, this is how we are going to develop and move forward”. Her eloquent and wise words gave me Goosebumps, it’s a shame that no change of her request occurred…

A summary of what I’ve been up to those couple of months: I have stalked the small corners of the streets, the path walks and people mostly, and if you’re wondering if America is great now, one word-worse. Many citizens woke up in fear, confusion and uncertainty and those who didn’t were given a privilege according to Trump. Blood hugged pathways and dead bodies waited to be put in a coffin and shoved inside the rectangular hole, so that they could finally be at peace and escape this unfeeling country. Hate filled America. Fear haunted the targeted as they opened their doors and verbal insults and slurs are expected to shout in your face if you seemed like what the president hated.

Protesters crowded in front of me, screaming at my face and holding signs begging for change and peace. I wanted to join every one of them, I wanted to scream back “I am with you”, I wanted to tell them I am innocent of their evil plans, and please don’t associate me with their acts.

I am the White House.

The house wanting peace for all.