‘If I had a son, he’d look like Trayvon’
As the first black president, Barack Obama faced heightened scrutiny when addressing race
By Alfred Reaves IV and Elizabeth Rees
Moments of national tragedy can reveal what presidential leadership truly means. Americans look to the president for reassurance and healing during times of crisis. Yet when responding to instances of racially motivated violence during his tenure in office, President Barack Obama faced an even more complex task as a national unifier, as interviews for the Miller Center’s Obama Oral History Project make clear.
As the first black president, Barack Obama faced heightened scrutiny when addressing incidents involving race. His words carried additional weight, as he was expected to acknowledge the realities of racial injustice while still fulfilling the presidential role of unifying a divided and troubled nation.
Although race was obviously a complex issue brought to the forefront by the president’s own racial identity, speechwriter Cody Keenan remembered that it was not a focus for Obama.
“You know who talked about his race the least? It was him,” Keenan said. “He never ran as the first black president. He never said anything about it, ever, in contrast to Hillary, who talked about “shattering the glass ceiling” [being the first woman president] all the time. He never talked about being the first black president.”
Obama’s responses to the killing of Trayvon Martin in 2012 and the 2015 massacre at Mother Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, South Carolina, illustrated how he adapted his communication and delivery to meet the moment, always offering compassion and encouraging national reflection.
“I wanted him to govern as the President of the United States, for all of the people who live here,” recalled Melody Barnes, Obama’s director of domestic policy, “and at the same time, as best he could, articulate a set of experiences that he knows as an African American man, and to bring that lens and that empathy to the table so that it can help move the nation forward.”
In the case of Trayvon Martin, a black teenager who was shot and killed in Sanford, Florida, while returning from a neighborhood convenience store, the country was already polarized over years of racial profiling and injustice bubbling to the surface. Rather than speaking only in official, political terms, recalled Press Secretary Jay Carney, Obama chose to make his comments on the tragedy more personal.
“That was one of the moments when it was particularly clear, when I worked for him, about how this was a different presidency and just how thoughtful he was about these issues,” Carney said. “I remember going in to brief him. I think Valerie [Jarrett] was there and others. We told him whatever it was we thought he should say, and he’s like, ‘Yes, thanks, but I know what I’m going to say.’ He may have said something like, ‘You may not think it’s the right thing,’ but whatever. And he went out and said what he said.”
Obama’s statement that “If I had a son, he’d look like Trayvon” immediately connected to black families across America, who experience these types of tragedies all too often. The president did not shy away from the hurt and anger black Americans felt while acknowledging their experience and lived reality of racial bias.
Several years later, after a white supremacist killed nine black worshippers at Mother Emanuel AME Church, Obama’s response took on a different spirit. Speaking at the memorial service, he adopted a role many presidents before him had to take: the consoler-in-chief, offering spiritual language and highlighting grace, forgiveness, and community. Obama’s eulogy peaked as he sang “Amazing Grace,” a moment that symbolized the president’s shared mourning and resilience.
Deputy National Security Advisor Ben Rhodes remembered the president’s frustration at having to deliver yet another eulogy.
“He didn’t want to give the speech where he sang ‘Amazing Grace’ at first,” Rhodes said. “He was like, ‘What else is there for me to say about a shooting like this?’ But not only does he give it, he sings ‘Amazing Grace. I think even though he was reluctant sometimes, because he wanted to be seen as not just a charismatic speaker, he always showed up and did the thing. Even if that wasn’t necessarily his self-conception, it is the role he played.”
Obama’s decision to sing “Amazing Grace” was organic and personal, recalled speechwriter Kyle O’Connor.
“As he was getting off the helicopter or off a plane in Charleston, he turned to the people there and said, ‘I think I might sing it if it feels right,’ ” O’Connor said. “So maybe six people knew that he might be about to sing it at the end of that speech. He paused for 11 seconds or something and then sang.”
Particularly in the later years of Obama’s administration, Barnes recalled, “after Trayvon Martin, after the shooting in South Carolina, that was, I think, a very transparent and open and honest articulation of what he felt and what he saw, and he was trying to connect with the American public and be true to himself. I think that’s absolutely what we saw. But it’s impossibly hard.”
Alfred Reaves IV is the faculty and program coordinator at the Miller Center, where he manages programming logistics, supports faculty and fellows, and coordinates policy research initiatives. Previously, he served in the University of Virginia’s Office of Sponsored Programs, where he supported proposal submissions and award processing. He earned a BA degree in political science from James Madison University.
Elizabeth Rees is a research fellow at the Miller Center. She completed her DPhil at the University of Oxford’s Rothermere American Institute in 2024 and was a postdoctoral fellow at Southern Methodist University’s Center for Presidential History.

