Like any mother, I want the best for my kids: that means I don’t want to do anything to get in the way of one or all of them being president of the United States of America. This may sound crazy, but it is, in fact, genetic. My great-grandmother spent many of her child-bearing years in Colonial Juarez, Mexico and made every effort to return to the US to give birth. This was not a case of wanting better medical care or the desire to be with her mother: her stated reason for getting herself to El Paso was so that her children would unquestionably qualify to be president.

I thought I was doing pretty well, so when I heard this discussion on NPR, it made me pause to wonder if I might be blocking my kids’ path to the White House. In the conversation, Randall Kennedy praised Barack Obama’s self-identification as black and intimated that, had Obama decided to self-identify as multi-racial, he would not be embraced by the black community and, in fact, be seen as a sellout.

I am often asked where I got my children (answer: my uterus) or what they are (answer: humans), and now that he has national prominence, I tell people they are the Obama Recipe: white American mother and Luo Kenyan father. Once in a while, when speaking of them to people who do not know them, I mention that my children are biracial. To me, this is simple fact. Biracial seems an impartial and accurate description.

I am well-aware that Americans will always see my kids as black and Kenyans will always see my kids as white. I cannot change that. I have always thought that, when my children are older, they will eventually decide on their own how they will self-identify and that, should they decide to self-identify as black, it would not matter. I believe in agency.

If, however, I use the term biracial, am I slighting their black identity? If my children at some point decide to self-identify as black, are they denying me? It doesn’t really bother me that most people, in seeing me, do not think my children are really mine. But if my kids distance themselves from being white, or even biracial, are they distancing themselves from me?

I guess I wouldn’t want that to stand in the way if they want to be president, though.

So get ready for the Odhiambos starting in about 40 years: my daughter is a gifted talker, natural negotiator, and her nursery teacher told me she was the leader there (she taught everyone to dip their snacks in their drinks; you are welcome, fellow moms and dads). My son is already a powerful communicator, even without speaking our language, but more importantly for male candidates, he has great hair.

Vote Odhiambo 2048!