It’s good to be home.
My fellow Americans, Michelle and I have been so touched by all the
well-wishes we’ve received over the past few weeks. But tonight it’s my turn to say thanks. Whether we’ve seen eye-to-eye or rarely
agreed at all, my conversations with you, the American people – in living rooms
and schools; at farms and on factory floors; at diners and on distant outposts
– are what have kept me honest, kept me inspired, and kept me going. Every day, I learned from you. You made me a better president, and you made
me a better man.
I first came to Chicago when I was in my early 20s, still
trying to figure out who I was; still searching for a purpose to my life. It was in neighborhoods not far from here
where I began working with church groups in the shadows of closed steel
mills. It was on these streets where I
witnessed the power of faith, and the quiet dignity of working people in the
face of struggle and loss. This is where
I learned that change only happens when ordinary people get involved, get
engaged, and come together to demand it.
After eight years as your president, I still believe
that. And it’s not just my belief. It’s the beating heart of our American idea –
our bold experiment in self-government.
It’s the conviction that we are all created equal, endowed
by our creator with certain unalienable rights, among them life, liberty, and
the pursuit of happiness.
It’s the insistence that these rights, while self-evident,
have never been self-executing; that we, the people, through the instrument of
our democracy, can form a more perfect union.
This is the great gift our Founders gave us. The freedom to chase our individual dreams
through our sweat, toil, and imagination – and the imperative to strive
together as well, to achieve a greater good.
For 240 years, our nation’s call to citizenship has given
work and purpose to each new generation.
It’s what led patriots to choose republic over tyranny, pioneers to trek
west, slaves to brave that makeshift railroad to freedom. It’s what pulled immigrants and refugees
across oceans and the Rio Grande, pushed women to reach for the ballot, powered
workers to organize. It’s why GIs gave
their lives at Omaha Beach and Iwo Jima; Iraq and Afghanistan – and why men and
women from Selma to Stonewall were prepared to give theirs as well.
So that’s what we mean when we say America is
exceptional. Not that our nation has
been flawless from the start, but that we have shown the capacity to change,
and make life better for those who follow.
Yes, our progress has been uneven. The work of democracy has always been hard,
contentious and sometimes bloody. For
every two steps forward, it often feels we take one step back. But the long sweep of America has been
defined by forward motion, a constant widening of our founding creed to embrace
all, and not just some.
If I had told you eight years ago that America would reverse
a great recession, reboot our auto industry, and unleash the longest stretch of
job creation in our history…if I had told you that we would open up a new
chapter with the Cuban people, shut down Iran’s nuclear weapons program without
firing a shot, and take out the mastermind of 9/11…if I had told you that we
would win marriage equality, and secure the right to health insurance for
another 20 million of our fellow citizens – you might have said our sights were
set a little too high.
But that’s what we did.
That’s what you did. You were the
change. You answered people’s hopes, and
because of you, by almost every measure, America is a better, stronger place
than it was when we started.
In 10 days, the world will witness a hallmark of our
democracy: the peaceful transfer of
power from one freely elected president to the next. I committed to President-elect Trump that my
administration would ensure the smoothest possible transition, just as
President Bush did for me. Because it’s
up to all of us to make sure our government can help us meet the many
challenges we still face.
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| President-Elect Donald Trump |
We have what we need to do so. After all, we remain the wealthiest, most
powerful, and most respected nation on Earth.
Our youth and drive, our diversity and openness, our boundless capacity
for risk and reinvention mean that the future should be ours.
But that potential will be realized only if our democracy
works. Only if our politics reflects the
decency of the our people. Only if all
of us, regardless of our party affiliation or particular interest, help restore
the sense of common purpose that we so badly need right now.
That’s what I want to focus on tonight – the state of our
democracy.
Understand, democracy does not require uniformity. Our founders quarreled and compromised, and
expected us to do the same. But they knew that democracy does require a basic
sense of solidarity – the idea that for all our outward differences, we are all
in this together; that we rise or fall as one.
There have been moments throughout our history that
threatened to rupture that solidarity.
The beginning of this century has been one of those times. A shrinking world, growing inequality;
demographic change and the specter of terrorism – these forces haven’t just
tested our security and prosperity, but our democracy as well. And how we meet these challenges to our
democracy will determine our ability to educate our kids, and create good jobs,
and protect our homeland.
In other words, it will determine our future.
Our democracy won’t work without a sense that everyone has
economic opportunity. Today, the economy
is growing again; wages, incomes, home values, and retirement accounts are
rising again; poverty is falling again.
The wealthy are paying a fairer share of taxes even as the stock market
shatters records. The unemployment rate
is near a 10-year low. The uninsured
rate has never, ever been lower.
Healthcare costs are rising at the slowest rate in 50 years. And if anyone can put together a plan that is
demonstrably better than the improvements we’ve made to our healthcare system –
that covers as many people at less cost – I will publicly support it.
That, after all, is why we serve – to make people’s lives
better, not worse.
But for all the real progress we’ve made, we know it’s not
enough. Our economy doesn’t work as well
or grow as fast when a few prosper at the expense of a growing middle
class. But stark inequality is also
corrosive to our democratic principles.
While the top 1% has amassed a bigger share of wealth and income, too
many families, in inner cities and rural counties, have been left behind – the
laid-off factory worker; the waitress and healthcare worker who struggle to pay
the bills – convinced that the game is fixed against them, that their
government only serves the interests of the powerful – a recipe for more
cynicism and polarization in our politics.
There are no quick fixes to this long-term trend. I agree that our trade should be fair and not
just free. But the next wave of economic
dislocation won’t come from overseas. It
will come from the relentless pace of automation that makes many good, middle-class
jobs obsolete.
And so we must forge a new social compact – to guarantee all
our kids the education they need; to give workers the power to unionize for
better wages; to update the social safety net to reflect the way we live now
and make more reforms to the tax code so corporations and individuals who reap
the most from the new economy don’t avoid their obligations to the country
that’s made their success possible. We
can argue about how to best achieve these goals. But we can’t be complacent about the goals
themselves. For if we don’t create
opportunity for all people, the disaffection and division that has stalled our
progress will only sharpen in years to come.
There’s a second threat to our democracy – one as old as our
nation itself. After my election, there
was talk of a post-racial America. Such
a vision, however well-intended, was never realistic. For race remains a potent and often divisive
force in our society. I’ve lived long
enough to know that race relations are better than they were 10, or 20, or 30
years ago – you can see it not just in statistics, but in the attitudes of
young Americans across the political spectrum.
But we’re not where we need to be. All of us have more work to do. After all, if every economic issue is framed
as a struggle between a hard-working white middle class and undeserving
minorities, then workers of all shades will be left fighting for scraps while
the wealthy withdraw further into their private enclaves. If we decline to invest in the children of
immigrants, just because they don’t look like us, we diminish the prospects of
our own children – because those brown kids will represent a larger share of
America’s workforce. And our economy
doesn’t have to be a zero-sum game. Last
year, incomes rose for all races, all age groups, for men and for women.
Going forward, we must uphold laws against discrimination –
in hiring, in housing, in education and the criminal justice system. That’s what our Constitution and highest
ideals require. But laws alone won’t be
enough. Hearts must change. If our democracy is to work in this
increasingly diverse nation, each one of us must try to heed the advice of one
of the great characters in American fiction, Atticus Finch, who said, “You
never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of
view…until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.”
For blacks and other minorities, it means tying our own
struggles for justice to the challenges that a lot of people in this country
face – the refugee, the immigrant, the rural poor, the transgender American,
and also the middle-aged white man who from the outside may seem like he’s got
all the advantages, but who’s seen his world upended by economic, cultural, and
technological change.
For white Americans, it means acknowledging that the effects
of slavery and Jim Crow didn’t suddenly vanish in the ‘60s; that when minority
groups voice discontent, they’re not just engaging in reverse racism or
practicing political correctness; that when they wage peaceful protest, they’re
not demanding special treatment, but the equal treatment our Founders promised.
For native-born Americans, it means reminding ourselves that
the stereotypes about immigrants today were said, almost word for word, about
the Irish, Italians, and Poles. America
wasn’t weakened by the presence of these newcomers; they embraced this nation’s
creed, and it was strengthened.
So regardless of the station we occupy; we have to try
harder; to start with the premise that each of our fellow citizens loves this
country just as much as we do; that they value hard work and family like we do;
that their children are just as curious and hopeful and worthy of love as our
own.
None of this is easy.
For too many of us, it’s become safer to retreat into our own bubbles,
whether in our neighborhoods or college campuses or places of worship or our
social media feeds, surrounded by people who look like us and share the same
political outlook and never challenge our assumptions. The rise of naked partisanship, increasing
economic and regional stratification, the splintering of our media into a
channel for every taste – all this makes this great sorting seem natural, even
inevitable. And increasingly, we become
so secure in our bubbles that we accept only information, whether true or not,
that fits our opinions, instead of basing our opinions on the evidence that’s
out there.
This trend represents a third threat to our democracy. Politics is a battle of ideas; in the course
of a healthy debate, we’ll prioritize different goals, and the different means
of reaching them. But without some common
baseline of facts; without a willingness to admit new information, and concede
that your opponent is making a fair point, and that science and reason matter,
we’ll keep talking past each other, making common ground and compromise
impossible.
Isn’t that part of what makes politics so dispiriting? How can elected officials rage about deficits
when we propose to spend money on preschool for kids, but not when we’re
cutting taxes for corporations? How do
we excuse ethical lapses in our own party, but pounce when the other party does
the same thing? It’s not just dishonest,
this selective sorting of the facts; it’s self-defeating. Because as my mother used to tell me, reality
has a way of catching up with you.
Take the challenge of climate change. In just eight years, we’ve halved our
dependence on foreign oil, doubled our renewable energy, and led the world to
an agreement that has the promise to save this planet. But without bolder action, our children won’t
have time to debate the existence of climate change; they’ll be busy dealing with
its effects: environmental disasters, economic disruptions, and waves of
climate refugees seeking sanctuary.
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| Outgoing President Barack Obama |
Now, we can and should argue about the best approach to the
problem. But to simply deny the problem
not only betrays future generations; it betrays the essential spirit of
innovation and practical problem-solving that guided our Founders.
It’s that spirit, born of the Enlightenment, that made us an
economic powerhouse – the spirit that took flight at Kitty Hawk and Cape
Canaveral; the spirit that that cures disease and put a computer in every
pocket.
It’s that spirit – a faith in reason, and enterprise, and
the primacy of right over might, that allowed us to resist the lure of fascism
and tyranny during the Great Depression, and build a post-World War II order
with other democracies, an order based not just on military power or national
affiliations but on principles – the rule of law, human rights, freedoms of
religion, speech, assembly, and an independent press.
That order is now being challenged – first by violent
fanatics who claim to speak for Islam; more recently by autocrats in foreign
capitals who see free markets, open democracies, and civil society itself as a
threat to their power. The peril each
poses to our democracy is more far-reaching than a car bomb or a missile. It represents the fear of change; the fear of
people who look or speak or pray differently; a contempt for the rule of law
that holds leaders accountable; an intolerance of dissent and free thought; a
belief that the sword or the gun or the bomb or propaganda machine is the
ultimate arbiter of what’s true and what’s right.
Because of the extraordinary courage of our men and women in
uniform, and the intelligence officers, law enforcement, and diplomats who
support them, no foreign terrorist organization has successfully planned and
executed an attack on our homeland these past eight years; and although Boston
and Orlando remind us of how dangerous radicalization can be, our law
enforcement agencies are more effective and vigilant than ever. We’ve taken out tens of thousands of
terrorists – including Osama bin Laden.
The global coalition we’re leading against ISIL has taken out their
leaders, and taken away about half their territory. ISIL will be destroyed, and no one who
threatens America will ever be safe. To
all who serve, it has been the honor of my lifetime to be your
Commander-in-Chief.
But protecting our way of life requires more than our
military. Democracy can buckle when we
give in to fear. So just as we, as
citizens, must remain vigilant against external aggression, we must guard
against a weakening of the values that make us who we are. That’s why, for the past eight years, I’ve
worked to put the fight against terrorism on a firm legal footing. That’s why we’ve ended torture, worked to
close Gitmo, and reform our laws governing surveillance to protect privacy and
civil liberties. That’s why I reject
discrimination against Muslim Americans.
That’s why we cannot withdraw from global fights – to expand democracy,
and human rights, women’s rights, and LGBT rights – no matter how imperfect our
efforts, no matter how expedient ignoring such values may seem. For the fight against extremism and
intolerance and sectarianism are of a piece with the fight against
authoritarianism and nationalist aggression.
If the scope of freedom and respect for the rule of law shrinks around
the world, the likelihood of war within and between nations increases, and our
own freedoms will eventually be threatened.
So let’s be vigilant, but not afraid. ISIL will try to kill innocent people. But they cannot defeat America unless we
betray our Constitution and our principles in the fight. Rivals like Russia or China cannot match our
influence around the world – unless we give up what we stand for, and turn
ourselves into just another big country that bullies smaller neighbors.
Which brings me to my final point – our democracy is
threatened whenever we take it for granted.
All of us, regardless of party, should throw ourselves into the task of
rebuilding our democratic institutions.
When voting rates are some of the lowest among advanced democracies, we
should make it easier, not harder, to vote.
When trust in our institutions is low, we should reduce the corrosive
influence of money in our politics, and insist on the principles of
transparency and ethics in public service.
When Congress is dysfunctional, we should draw our districts to
encourage politicians to cater to common sense and not rigid extremes.
And all of this depends on our participation; on each of us
accepting the responsibility of citizenship, regardless of which way the
pendulum of power swings.
Our Constitution is a remarkable, beautiful gift. But it’s really just a piece of parchment. It has no power on its own. We, the people, give it power – with our
participation, and the choices we make.
Whether or not we stand up for our freedoms. Whether or not we respect and enforce the
rule of law. America is no fragile
thing. But the gains of our long journey
to freedom are not assured.
In his own farewell address, George Washington wrote that
self-government is the underpinning of our safety, prosperity, and liberty, but
“from different causes and from different quarters much pains will be taken…to
weaken in your minds the conviction of this truth;” that we should preserve it
with “jealous anxiety;” that we should reject “the first dawning of every
attempt to alienate any portion of our country from the rest or to enfeeble the
sacred ties” that make us one.
We weaken those ties when we allow our political dialogue to
become so corrosive that people of good character are turned off from public
service; so coarse with rancor that Americans with whom we disagree are not
just misguided, but somehow malevolent.
We weaken those ties when we define some of us as more American than
others; when we write off the whole system as inevitably corrupt, and blame the
leaders we elect without examining our own role in electing them.
It falls to each of us to be those anxious, jealous
guardians of our democracy; to embrace the joyous task we’ve been given to
continually try to improve this great nation of ours. Because for all our outward differences, we all
share the same proud title: Citizen.
Ultimately, that’s what our democracy demands. It needs you.
Not just when there’s an election, not just when your own narrow
interest is at stake, but over the full span of a lifetime. If you’re tired of arguing with strangers on
the Internet, try to talk with one in real life. If something needs fixing, lace up your shoes
and do some organizing. If you’re
disappointed by your elected officials, grab a clipboard, get some signatures,
and run for office yourself. Show
up. Dive in. Persevere.
Sometimes you’ll win. Sometimes
you’ll lose. Presuming a reservoir of
goodness in others can be a risk, and there will be times when the process
disappoints you. But for those of us
fortunate enough to have been a part of this work, to see it up close, let me
tell you, it can energize and inspire.
And more often than not, your faith in America – and in Americans – will
be confirmed.
Mine sure has been.
Over the course of these eight years, I’ve seen the hopeful faces of
young graduates and our newest military officers. I’ve mourned with grieving families searching
for answers, and found grace in a Charleston church. I’ve seen our scientists help a paralyzed man
regain his sense of touch, and our wounded warriors walk again. I’ve seen our doctors and volunteers rebuild
after earthquakes and stop pandemics in their tracks. I’ve seen the youngest of children remind us
of our obligations to care for refugees, to work in peace, and above all to
look out for each other.
That faith I placed all those years ago, not far from here,
in the power of ordinary Americans to bring about change – that faith has been
rewarded in ways I couldn’t possibly have imagined. I hope yours has, too. Some of you here tonight or watching at home
were there with us in 2004, in 2008, in 2012 – and maybe you still can’t
believe we pulled this whole thing off.
You’re not the only ones.
Michelle – for the past 25 years, you’ve been not only my wife and
mother of my children, but my best friend.
You took on a role you didn’t ask for and made it your own with grace
and grit and style and good humor. You
made the White House a place that belongs to everybody. And a new generation sets its sights higher
because it has you as a role model.
You’ve made me proud. You’ve made
the country proud.
Malia and Sasha, under the strangest of circumstances, you
have become two amazing young women, smart and beautiful, but more importantly,
kind and thoughtful and full of passion.
You wore the burden of years in the spotlight so easily. Of all that I’ve done in my life, I’m most
proud to be your dad.
To Joe Biden, the scrappy kid from Scranton who became
Delaware’s favorite son: You were the
first choice I made as a nominee, and the best.
Not just because you have been a great vice president, but because in
the bargain, I gained a brother. We love
you and Jill like family, and your friendship has been one of the great joys of
our life.
To my remarkable staff:
For eight years – and for some of you, a whole lot more – I’ve drawn
from your energy, and tried to reflect back what you displayed every day:
heart, and character, and idealism. I’ve
watched you grow up, get married, have kids, and start incredible new journeys
of your own. Even when times got tough
and frustrating, you never let Washington get the better of you. The only thing that makes me prouder than all
the good we’ve done is the thought of all the remarkable things you’ll achieve
from here.
And to all of you out there – every organizer who moved to
an unfamiliar town and kind family who welcomed them in, every volunteer who
knocked on doors, every young person who cast a ballot for the first time,
every American who lived and breathed the hard work of change – you are the
best supporters and organizers anyone could hope for, and I will forever be
grateful. Because, yes, you changed the
world.
That’s why I leave this stage tonight even more optimistic
about this country than I was when we started.
Because I know our work has not only helped so many Americans; it has
inspired so many Americans – especially so many young people out there – to
believe you can make a difference; to hitch your wagon to something bigger than
yourselves. This generation coming up –
unselfish, altruistic, creative, patriotic – I’ve seen you in every corner of
the country. You believe in a fair,
just, inclusive America; you know that constant change has been America’s
hallmark, something not to fear but to embrace, and you are willing to carry
this hard work of democracy forward.
You’ll soon outnumber any of us, and I believe as a result that the
future is in good hands.
My fellow Americans, it has been the honor of my life to
serve you. I won’t stop; in fact, I will
be right there with you, as a citizen, for all my days that remain. For now, whether you’re young or young at
heart, I do have one final ask of you as your president – the same thing I
asked when you took a chance on me eight years ago.
I am asking you to believe.
Not in my ability to bring about change – but in yours.
I am asking you to hold fast to that faith written into our
founding documents; that idea whispered by slaves and abolitionists; that
spirit sung by immigrants and homesteaders and those who marched for justice;
that creed reaffirmed by those who planted flags from foreign battlefields to
the surface of the moon; a creed at the core of every American whose story is
not yet written:
Yes We Can.
Yes We Did.
Yes We Can.
Thank you. God bless
you. And may God continue to bless the
United States of America.
