My fellow citizens: 
 
I stand here today humbled by the task before us, grateful for the trust you have bestowed, mindful 
of the sacrifices borne by our ancestors. I thank President Bush for his service to our nation, as well as 
the generosity and cooperation he has shown throughout this transition. 
 
Forty-four Americans have now taken the presidential oath. The words have been spoken during 
rising tides of prosperity and the still waters of peace. Yet, every so often the oath is taken amidst 
gathering clouds and raging storms. At these moments, America has carried on not simply because of 
the skill or vision of those in high office, but because We the People have remained faithful to the 
ideals of our forbearers, and true to our founding documents. 
 
So it has been. So it must be with this generation of Americans. 
 
That we are in the midst of crisis is now well understood. Our nation is at war, against a far-reaching 
network of violence and hatred. Our economy is badly weakened, a consequence of greed and 
irresponsibility on the part of some, but also our collective failure to make hard choices and prepare 
the nation for a new age. Homes have been lost; jobs shed; businesses shuttered. Our health care is 
too costly; our schools fail too many; and each day brings further evidence that the ways we use 
energy strengthen our adversaries and threaten our planet. 
 
These are the indicators of crisis, subject to data and statistics. Less measurable but no less profound 
is a sapping of confidence across our land - a nagging fear that America's decline is inevitable, and 
that the next generation must lower its sights. 
 
Today I say to you that the challenges we face are real. They are serious and they are many. They will 
not be met easily or in a short span of time. But know this, America - they will be met. 
 
On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and 
discord. 
 
On this day, we come to proclaim an end to the petty grievances and false promises, the 
recriminations and worn out dogmas, that for far too long have strangled our politics. 
 
We remain a young nation, but in the words of Scripture, the time has come to set aside childish 
things. The time has come to reaffirm our enduring spirit; to choose our better history; to carry 
forward that precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to generation: the God-given 
promise that all are equal, all are free, and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of 
happiness. 
 
In reaffirming the greatness of our nation, we understand that greatness is never a given. It must be 
earned. Our journey has never been one of short-cuts or settling for less. It has not been the path for 
the faint-hearted - for those who prefer leisure over work, or seek only the pleasures of riches and 
fame. Rather, it has been the risk-takers, the doers, the makers of things - some celebrated but more 
often men and women obscure in their labor, who have carried us up the long, rugged path towards 
prosperity and freedom. 
 
For us, they packed up their few worldly possessions and traveled across oceans in search of a new 
life. 
 
For us, they toiled in sweatshops and settled the West; endured the lash of the whip and plowed the 
hard earth. 
 
For us, they fought and died, in places like Concord and Gettysburg; Normandy and Khe Sahn. 
 
Time and again these men and women struggled and sacrificed and worked till their hands were raw 
so that we might live a better life. They saw America as bigger than the sum of our individual 
ambitions; greater than all the differences of birth or wealth or faction. 
 
This is the journey we continue today. We remain the most prosperous, powerful nation on Earth. 
Our workers are no less productive than when this crisis began. Our minds are no less inventive, our 
goods and services no less needed than they were last week or last month or last year. Our capacity 
remains undiminished. But our time of standing pat, of protecting narrow interests and putting off 
unpleasant decisions - that time has surely passed. Starting today, we must pick ourselves up, dust 
ourselves off, and begin again the work of remaking America. 
 
For everywhere we look, there is work to be done. The state of the economy calls for action, bold and 
swift, and we will act - not only to create new jobs, but to lay a new foundation for growth. We will 
build the roads and bridges, the electric grids and digital lines that feed our commerce and bind us 
together. We will restore science to its rightful place, and wield technology's wonders to raise health 
care's quality and lower its cost. We will harness the sun and the winds and the soil to fuel our cars 
and run our factories. And we will transform our schools and colleges and universities to meet the 
demands of a new age. All this we can do. And all this we will do. 
 
Now, there are some who question the scale of our ambitions - who suggest that our system cannot 
tolerate too many big plans. Their memories are short. For they have forgotten what this country has 
already done; what free men and women can achieve when imagination is joined to common 
purpose, and necessity to courage. 
 
What the cynics fail to understand is that the ground has shifted beneath them - that the stale 
political arguments that have consumed us for so long no longer apply. The question we ask today is 
not whether our government is too big or too small, but whether it works - whether it helps families 
find jobs at a decent wage, care they can afford, a retirement that is dignified. Where the answer is 
yes, we intend to move forward. Where the answer is no, programs will end. And those of us who 
manage the public's dollars will be held to account - to spend wisely, reform bad habits, and do our 
business in the light of day - because only then can we restore the vital trust between a people and 
their government. 
Nor is the question before us whether the market is a force for good or ill. Its power to generate 
wealth and expand freedom is unmatched, but this crisis has reminded us that without a watchful 
eye, the market can spin out of control - and that a nation cannot prosper long when it favors only 
the prosperous. The success of our economy has always depended not just on the size of our Gross 
Domestic Product, but on the reach of our prosperity; on the ability to extend opportunity to every 
willing heart - not out of charity, but because it is the surest route to our common good. 
 
As for our common defense, we reject as false the choice between our safety and our ideals. Our 
Founding Fathers, faced with perils we can scarcely imagine, drafted a charter to assure the rule of 
law and the rights of man, a charter expanded by the blood of generations. Those ideals still light the 
world, and we will not give them up for expedience's sake. And so to all other peoples and 
governments who are watching today, from the grandest capitals to the small village where my father 
was born: know that America is a friend of each nation and every man, woman, and child who seeks a 
future of peace and dignity, and we are ready to lead once more. 
 
Recall that earlier generations faced down fascism and communism not just with missiles and tanks, 
but with the sturdy alliances and enduring convictions. They understood that our power alone cannot 
protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please. Instead, they knew that our power grows 
through its prudent use; our security emanates from the justness of our cause, the force of our 
example, the tempering qualities of humility and restraint. 
 
We are the keepers of this legacy. Guided by these principles once more, we can meet those new 
threats that demand even greater effort - even greater cooperation and understanding between 
nations. We will begin to responsibly leave Iraq to its people, and forge a hard-earned peace in 
Afghanistan. With old friends and former foes, we’ll work tirelessly to lessen the nuclear threat, and 
roll back the specter of a warming planet. We will not apologize for our way of life, nor will we waver 
in its defense, and for those who seek to advance their aims by inducing terror and slaughtering 
innocents, we say to you now that our spirit is stronger and cannot be broken; you cannot outlast us, 
and we will defeat you. 
 
For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness. We are a nation of Christians 
and Muslims, Jews and Hindus - and non-believers. We are shaped by every language and culture, 
drawn from every end of this Earth; and because we have tasted the bitter swill of civil war and 
segregation, and emerged from that dark chapter stronger and more united, we cannot help but 
believe that the old hatreds shall someday pass; that the lines of tribe shall soon dissolve; that as the 
world grows smaller, our common humanity shall reveal itself; and that America must play its role in 
ushering in a new era of peace. 
 
To the Muslim world, we seek a new way forward, based on mutual interest and mutual respect. To 
those leaders around the globe who seek to sow conflict, or blame their society's ills on the West - 
know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy. To those who 
cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the 
wrong side of history; but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist. 
 
To the people of poor nations, we pledge to work alongside you to make your farms flourish and let 
clean waters flow; to nourish starved bodies and feed hungry minds. And to those nations like ours 
that enjoy relative plenty, we say we can no longer afford indifference to the suffering outside our 
borders; nor can we consume the world's resources without regard to effect. For the world has 
changed, and we must change with it. 
 
As we consider the road that unfolds before us, we remember with humble gratitude those brave 
Americans who, at this very hour, patrol far-off deserts and distant mountains. They have something 
to tell us, just as the fallen heroes who lie in Arlington whisper through the ages. We honor them not 
only because they are guardians of our liberty, but because they embody the spirit of service; a 
willingness to find meaning in something greater than themselves. And yet, at this moment - a 
moment that will define a generation - it is precisely this spirit that must inhabit us all. 
 
For as much as government can do and must do, it is ultimately the faith and determination of the 
American people upon which this nation relies. It is the kindness to take in a stranger when the levees 
break, the selflessness of workers who would rather cut their hours than see a friend lose their job 
which sees us through our darkest hours. It is the firefighter's courage to storm a stairway filled with 
smoke, but also a parent's willingness to nurture a child, that finally decides our fate. 
 
Our challenges may be new. The instruments with which we meet them may be new. But those 
values upon which our success depends - honesty and hard work, courage and fair play, tolerance and 
curiosity, loyalty and patriotism - these things are old. These things are true. They have been the 
quiet force of progress throughout our history. What is demanded then is a return to these truths. 
What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility - a recognition, on the part of every 
American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation, and the world, duties that we do not 
grudgingly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to 
the spirit, so defining of our character, than giving our all to a difficult task. 
 
This is the price and the promise of citizenship. 
 
This is the source of our confidence - the knowledge that God calls on us to shape an uncertain 
destiny. 
 
This is the meaning of our liberty and our creed - why men and women and children of every race 
and every faith can join in celebration across this magnificent mall, and why a man whose father less 
than sixty years ago might not have been served at a local restaurant can now stand before you to 
take a most sacred oath. 
 
So let us mark this day with remembrance, of who we are and how far we have traveled. In the year 
of America's birth, in the coldest of months, a small band of patriots huddled by dying campfires on 
the shores of an icy river. The capital was abandoned. The enemy was advancing. The snow was 
stained with blood. At a moment when the outcome of our revolution was most in doubt, the father 
of our nation ordered these words be read to the people: 
"Let it be told to the future world...that in the depth of winter, when nothing but hope and virtue 
could survive...that the city and the country, alarmed at one common danger, came forth to meet 
[it]." 
 
America. In the face of our common dangers, in this winter of our hardship, let us remember these 
timeless words. With hope and virtue, let us brave once more the icy currents, and endure what 
storms may come. Let it be said by our children's children that when we were tested we refused to let 
this journey end, that we did not turn back nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and 
God's grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future 
generations. 
 
Thank you. God bless you and God bless the United States of America.
If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible; who 
still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time; who still questions the power of our 
democracy, tonight is your answer.
It’s the answer told by lines that stretched around schools and churches in numbers this nation has 
never seen; by people who waited three hours and four hours, many for the very first time in their 
lives, because they believed that this time must be different; that their voice could be that difference.
It’s the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, 
Latino, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled – Americans who sent a 
message to the world that we have never been a collection of Red States and Blue States: we are, and 
always will be, the United States of America.
It’s the answer that led those who have been told for so long by so many to be cynical, and fearful, 
and doubtful of what we can achieve to put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more 
toward the hope of a better day.
It’s been a long time coming, but tonight, because of what we did on this day, in this election, at this 
defining moment, change has come to America.
I just received a very gracious call from Senator McCain. He fought long and hard in this campaign, 
and he’s fought even longer and harder for the country he loves. He has endured sacrifices for 
America that most of us cannot begin to imagine, and we are better off for the service rendered by 
this brave and selfless leader. I congratulate him and Governor Palin for all they have achieved, and I 
look forward to working with them to renew this nation’s promise in the months ahead.
I want to thank my partner in this journey, a man who campaigned from his heart and spoke for the 
men and women he grew up with on the streets of Scranton and rode with on that train home to 
Delaware, the Vice President-elect of the United States, Joe Biden.
I would not be standing here tonight without the unyielding support of my best friend for the last 
sixteen years, the rock of our family and the love of my life, our nation’s next First Lady, Michelle 
Obama. Sasha and Malia, I love you both so much, and you have earned the new puppy that’s coming 
with us to the White House. And while she’s no longer with us, I know my grandmother is watching, 
along with the family that made me who I am. I miss them tonight, and know that my debt to them is 
beyond measure.
To my campaign manager David Plouffe, my chief strategist David Axelrod, and the best campaign 
team ever assembled in the history of politics – you made this happen, and I am forever grateful for 
what you’ve sacrificed to get it done.
But above all, I will never forget who this victory truly belongs to – it belongs to you.
I was never the likeliest candidate for this office. We didn’t start with much money or many 
endorsements. Our campaign was not hatched in the halls of Washington – it began in the backyards 
of Des Moines and the living rooms of Concord and the front porches of Charleston.
It was built by working men and women who dug into what little savings they had to give five dollars 
and ten dollars and twenty dollars to this cause. It grew strength from the young people who rejected 
the myth of their generation’s apathy; who left their homes and their families for jobs that offered 
little pay and less sleep; from the not-so-young people who braved the bitter cold and scorching heat 
to knock on the doors of perfect strangers; from the millions of Americans who volunteered, and 
organized, and proved that more than two centuries later, a government of the people, by the people 
and for the people has not perished from this Earth. This is your victory. I know you didn’t do this just 
to win an election and I know you didn’t do it for me. You did it because you understand the enormity 
of the task that lies ahead. For even as we celebrate tonight, we know the challenges that tomorrow 
will bring are the greatest of our lifetime – two wars, a planet in peril, the worst financial crisis in a 
century. Even as we stand here tonight, we know there are brave Americans waking up in the deserts 
of Iraq and the mountains of Afghanistan to risk their lives for us. There are mothers and fathers who 
will lie awake after their children fall asleep and wonder how they’ll make the mortgage, or pay their 
doctor’s bills, or save enough for college. There is new energy to harness and new jobs to be created; 
new schools to build and threats to meet and alliances to repair.
The road ahead will be long. Our climb will be steep. We may not get there in one year or even one 
term, but America – I have never been more hopeful than I am tonight that we will get there. I 
promise you – we as a people will get there.
There will be setbacks and false starts. There are many who won’t agree with every decision or policy 
I make as President, and we know that government can’t solve every problem. But I will always be 
honest with you about the challenges we face. I will listen to you, especially when we disagree. And 
above all, I will ask you join in the work of remaking this nation the only way it’s been done in 
America for two-hundred and twenty-one years – block by block, brick by brick, calloused hand by 
calloused hand.
What began twenty-one months ago in the depths of winter must not end on this autumn night. This 
victory alone is not the change we seek – it is only the chance for us to make that change. And that 
cannot happen if we go back to the way things were. It cannot happen without you.
So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism; of service and responsibility where each of us resolves to 
pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves, but each other. Let us remember that if 
this financial crisis taught us anything, it’s that we cannot have a thriving Wall Street while Main 
Street suffers – in this country, we rise or fall as one nation; as one people.
Let us resist the temptation to fall back on the same partisanship and pettiness and immaturity that 
has poisoned our politics for so long. Let us remember that it was a man from this state who first 
carried the banner of the Republican Party to the White House – a party founded on the values of 
self-reliance, individual liberty, and national unity. Those are values we all share, and while the 
Democratic Party has won a great victory tonight, we do so with a measure of humility and 
determination to heal the divides that have held back our progress. As Lincoln said to a nation far 
more divided than ours, “We are not enemies, but friends…though passion may have strained it must 
not break our bonds of affection.” And to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn – I may 
not have won your vote, but I hear your voices, I need your help, and I will be your President too.
And to all those watching tonight from beyond our shores, from parliaments and palaces to those 
who are huddled around radios in the forgotten corners of our world – our stories are singular, but 
our destiny is shared, and a new dawn of American leadership is at hand. To those who would tear 
this world down – we will defeat you. To those who seek peace and security – we support you. And to 
all those who have wondered if America’s beacon still burns as bright – tonight we proved once more 
that the true strength of our nation comes not from our the might of our arms or the scale of our 
wealth, but from the enduring power of our ideals: democracy, liberty, opportunity, and unyielding 
hope.
For that is the true genius of America – that America can change. Our union can be perfected. And 
what we have already achieved gives us hope for what we can and must achieve tomorrow.
This election had many firsts and many stories that will be told for generations. But one that’s on my 
mind tonight is about a woman who cast her ballot in Atlanta. She’s a lot like the millions of others 
who stood in line to make their voice heard in this election except for one thing – Ann Nixon Cooper 
is 106 years old.
She was born just a generation past slavery; a time when there were no cars on the road or planes in 
the sky; when someone like her couldn’t vote for two reasons – because she was a woman and 
because of the color of her skin.
And tonight, I think about all that she’s seen throughout her century in America – the heartache and 
the hope; the struggle and the progress; the times we were told that we can’t, and the people who 
pressed on with that American creed: Yes we can.
At a time when women’s voices were silenced and their hopes dismissed, she lived to see them stand 
up and speak out and reach for the ballot. Yes we can.
When there was despair in the dust bowl and depression across the land, she saw a nation conquer 
fear itself with a New Deal, new jobs and a new sense of common purpose. Yes we can.
When the bombs fell on our harbor and tyranny threatened the world, she was there to witness a 
generation rise to greatness and a democracy was saved. Yes we can.
She was there for the buses in Montgomery, the hoses in Birmingham, a bridge in Selma, and a 
preacher from Atlanta who told a people that “We Shall Overcome.” Yes we can.
A man touched down on the moon, a wall came down in Berlin, a world was connected by our own 
science and imagination. And this year, in this election, she touched her finger to a screen, and cast 
her vote, because after 106 years in America, through the best of times and the darkest of hours, she 
knows how America can change. Yes we can.
America, we have come so far. We have seen so much. But there is so much more to do. So tonight, 
let us ask ourselves – if our children should live to see the next century; if my daughters should be so 
lucky to live as long as Ann Nixon Cooper, what change will they see? What progress will we have 
made?
This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment. This is our time – to put our people back to 
work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of 
peace; to reclaim the American Dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth – that out of many, we 
are one; that while we breathe, we hope, and where we are met with cynicism, and doubt, and those 
who tell us that we can’t, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a 
people:
Yes We Can. Thank you, God bless you, and may God Bless the United States of America.
What a scene. What a crowd. Thank you for Virginia. (Crowd chants "yes we can.")
Let me start by noting, Virginia that this is our last rally. This is the last rally of a campaign that began 
nearly 2 years ago. We've gone to every corner of this country, from here in Northern Virginia to the 
rocky coasts of Maine, to the open plains of Texas, to the open skies of Montana.
I just want to say that whatever happens tomorrow, I have been deeply humbled by this journey. You 
have welcomed Michelle and me and the girls into your homes. You have shared your stories of 
struggle, you have spoken of your dreams, along the way, talking with all of you about your own lives.
You have enriched my life, you have moved me again and again. You have inspired me. Sometimes 
when I have been down you have lifted me up. You filled me with new hope for our future and you 
have reminded me about what makes America so special. In the places I have gone and the people I 
have met, I have been struck again and again by the fundamental decency and generosity and dignity 
of men and women who work hard without complaint, to meet their responsibilities every day.
I come away with an unyielding belief that if we only had a government as responsible as all of you, 
as compassionate as the American people, that there is no obstacle that we can't overcome. There is 
no destiny that we cannot fulfill.
Virginia, I have just one word for you, just one word. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. After decades of broken 
politics in Washington, 8 years of failed policies from George Bush, twenty-one months of 
campaigning, we are less then one day away from bringing about change in America.
Tomorrow you can turn the page on policies that put greed and irresponsibility before hard work and 
sacrifice. Tomorrow you can choose policies that invest in our middle class, create new jobs and grow 
this economy so that everybody has a chance to succeed. Not just the CEO but the secretary and the 
janitor; not just the factory owner but the men and women who work the factory floor. Tomorrow 
you can put an end to the politics that would divide a nation just to win an election; that puts reason 
against reason, and city against town, Republican against Democrat; that asks us to fear at a time 
when we need to hope.
Tomorrow, at this defining moment in history, you can give this country the change that we need. It 
starts here in Virginia. It starts here in Manassas. This is where change begins.
Our campaign has not been perfect. There are times when I look back and I've said, "you know I 
wouldn't have done that if I had thought about it a little bit more." But I'll tell you what. When you 
think about this campaign we've got a lot to be proud of when it comes to the tone that we have set.
We tried to argue issues and not engage in personal attacks. We've been fierce in defending ourselves 
but we've tried to make sure that we are always reminding our supporters that all of us are in this 
together. Black, white, Hispanic, native American, Asian, Democrats and Republicans, young and old, 
rich and poor, gay and straight, disabled and not disabled, all of us have something to contribute.
We tried to communicate for these last two years that we can't afford the same political games, the 
same tactics that pit us against one another, that make us afraid of each other. We can't afford that 
anymore. Not this time. Despite what our opponents might claim, there are no real or fake parts of 
Virginia anymore and then there are real or fake parts of America. There is no city or town that is 
more pro-America than anywhere else. We are all one nation. All of us proud. All of us patriots. All of 
us salute this flag.
The men and women who serve on our battlefields come from many walks of life, different political 
parties, but they fought together and they bled together. Some die together under the same proud 
flag. They have not served red America or blue America, they have served the United States of 
America. And that is what this campaign has been about, we're calling us to serve the United States 
of America.
In this campaign I have had the privilege to witness what is best in America, in the stories, in the 
faces, of men and women I have met at countless rallies, town hall meetings, VFW halls, living rooms, 
diners, all across America, men and women who shared with me their stories and spoke of their 
struggles but they also spoke of their hopes and dreams. They want for their children a sense of 
obligation and debts to be paid to earlier generations.
I met one of those women in Greenwood, South Carolina. It was back early when we were way back 
in the polls. Nobody gave us much of a chance back then. I had gone to South Carolina early in the 
campaign to see what I could stir up in the way of endorsements, and I was at a legislative dinner 
sitting next to a state representative that I really wanted to endorse me. So I turned to her and I said 
"I really want your endorsement." And she looked at me and she said "I'll tell you what, Obama, I will 
give you my endorsement if you come to my hometown of Greenwood, South Carolina." I must have 
had a sip of wine or something that night because right away I said "Okay. I'm coming."
So the next time I come to South Carolina it's about a month later. We fly in about midnight. We get 
to the hotel about one o'clock in the morning. I'm exhausted. I'm dragging my bags to my room when 
I get a tap on my shoulder and I look back and it is one of my staff people who says "Senator we need 
to be out of the hotel by 6 a.m." I say "Why is that?" He says "because we have to go to Greenwood, 
like you promised."
So the next morning I wake up and I feel terrible, and I think I am coming down with a cold, my back 
is sore, I feel worse than when I went to bed. I open up the curtains in the hotel room to get some 
sunlight in and hopefully wake me up, but it's pouring down rain. I go outside my room and get the 
New York Times, and there is a bad story about me in the New York Times. I go downstairs after I 
pack, and my umbrella blows open and I get soaked, so by the time I get in the car I am mad, I am wet 
and I am sleepy.
We drive, and we drive, and we drive. It turns out that Greenwood is about an hour and a half from 
everywhere else. Finally we get to Greenwood.
First of all you do not know you're in Greenwood when you get to Greenwood, there aren't a lot of 
tall buildings in Greenwood. We pull off to a small building — a little field house in a park — and we 
go inside, and low and behold, after an hour and a half drive, turns out there are 20 people there. 
Twenty people. They look all kind of damp and sleepy, maybe they aren't really excited to be there 
either.
But I am a professional, I've got to do what I got to do. I'm going around, I'm shaking hands, I am 
saying "How are you doing? What are you doing?"
As I go around the room suddenly I hear this voice cry out behind me "fired up." I'm shocked. I 
jumped up. I don't know what is going on. But everyone else acts as though this were normal and 
they say "fired up." Then I hear this voice say "ready to go." And the 20 people in the room act like 
this happens all the time and they say "ready to go".
I don't know what's going on so I looked behind me and there is this small woman, about 60 years 
old, a little over 5 feet, looks like she just came from church — she's got on a big church hat. She's 
standing there, she looks at me and she smiles and she says "fired up."
It turns out that she was a city Councilwoman from Greenwood who also moonlights as a private 
detective. I'm not making this up. And it turns out that she is famous for her chant. She does this 
where ever she goes. She says "fired up" and the people say "fired up", and she says "ready to go" 
and they say "ready to go."
For the next five minutes she proceeds to do this. "Fired up?" and everyone says "fired up" and she 
says "ready to go" and they say "ready to go." I'm standing there and I'm thinking I'm being 
outflanked by this woman. She's stealing my thunder. I look at my staff and they shrugged their 
shoulders, they don't know how long this is going to go on.
But here's the thing, Virginia. After a minute or so I am feeling kind of fired up. I'm feeling like I'm 
ready to go. So I join in the chant. It feels good. For the rest of the day, even after we left Greenwood, 
even though it was still raining, even though I was still not getting big crowds anywhere, even though 
we hadn't gotten the endorsement from the people we were hoping for, somehow I felt a little 
lighter, a little better. I'd see my staff and I would say "Are you fired up? and they would say "We are 
fired up, boss, are you ready to go?" And I'd say "I'm ready to go."
Here's my point, Virginia. That's how this thing started. It shows you what one voice can do. That one 
voice can change a room. And if a voice can change a room, it can change a city, and if it can change a 
city, it can change a state, and if it can change a state, it can change a nation, and if it can change a 
nation, it can change the world.
Virginia, your voice can change the world tomorrow. In 21 hours if you are willing to endure some 
rain, if you are willing to drag that person you know who is not going to vote, to the polls. If you are 
willing to organize and volunteer in the offices, if you are willing to stand with me, if you are willing to 
fight with me, I know your voice will matter.
So I have just one question for you Virginia, Are you fired up? Ready to go? Fired up. Ready to go. 
Fired up. Ready to go. Fired up. Ready to go.
Virginia, let's go change the world. God bless you and God bless the United States of America.
To Chairman Dean and my great friend Dick Durbin; and to all my fellow citizens of this great nation;
With profound gratitude and great humility, I accept your nomination for the presidency of the 
United States.
Let me express my thanks to the historic slate of candidates who accompanied me on this journey, 
and especially the one who traveled the farthest - a champion for working Americans and an 
inspiration to my daughters and to yours -- Hillary Rodham Clinton. To President Clinton, who last 
night made the case for change as only he can make it; to Ted Kennedy, who embodies the spirit of 
service; and to the next Vice President of the United States, Joe Biden, I thank you. I am grateful to 
finish this journey with one of the finest statesmen of our time, a man at ease with everyone from 
world leaders to the conductors on the Amtrak train he still takes home every night.
To the love of my life, our next First Lady, Michelle Obama, and to Sasha and Malia - I love you so 
much, and I'm so proud of all of you.
Four years ago, I stood before you and told you my story - of the brief union between a young man 
from Kenya and a young woman from Kansas who weren't well-off or well-known, but shared a belief 
that in America, their son could achieve whatever he put his mind to.
It is that promise that has always set this country apart - that through hard work and sacrifice, each of 
us can pursue our individual dreams but still come together as one American family, to ensure that 
the next generation can pursue their dreams as well.
That's why I stand here tonight. Because for two hundred and thirty two years, at each moment when 
that promise was in jeopardy, ordinary men and women - students and soldiers, farmers and 
teachers, nurses and janitors -- found the courage to keep it alive.
We meet at one of those defining moments - a moment when our nation is at war, our economy is in 
turmoil, and the American promise has been threatened once more.
Tonight, more Americans are out of work and more are working harder for less. More of you have lost 
your homes and even more are watching your home values plummet. More of you have cars you 
can't afford to drive, credit card bills you can't afford to pay, and tuition that's beyond your reach.
These challenges are not all of government's making. But the failure to respond is a direct result of a 
broken politics in Washington and the failed policies of George W. Bush.
America, we are better than these last eight years. We are a better country than this.
This country is more decent than one where a woman in Ohio, on the brink of retirement, finds 
herself one illness away from disaster after a lifetime of hard work.
This country is more generous than one where a man in Indiana has to pack up the equipment he's 
worked on for twenty years and watch it shipped off to China, and then chokes up as he explains how 
he felt like a failure when he went home to tell his family the news.
We are more compassionate than a government that lets veterans sleep on our streets and families 
slide into poverty; that sits on its hands while a major American city drowns before our eyes.
Tonight, I say to the American people, to Democrats and Republicans and Independents across this 
great land - enough! This moment - this election - is our chance to keep, in the 21st century, the 
American promise alive. Because next week, in Minnesota, the same party that brought you two 
terms of George Bush and Dick Cheney will ask this country for a third. And we are here because we 
love this country too much to let the next four years look like the last eight. On November 4th, we 
must stand up and say: "Eight is enough."
Now let there be no doubt. The Republican nominee, John McCain, has worn the uniform of our 
country with bravery and distinction, and for that we owe him our gratitude and respect. And next 
week, we'll also hear about those occasions when he's broken with his party as evidence that he can 
deliver the change that we need.
But the record's clear: John McCain has voted with George Bush ninety percent of the time. Senator 
McCain likes to talk about judgment, but really, what does it say about your judgment when you think 
George Bush has been right more than ninety percent of the time? I don't know about you, but I'm 
not ready to take a ten percent chance on change.
The truth is, on issue after issue that would make a difference in your lives - on health care and 
education and the economy - Senator McCain has been anything but independent. He said that our 
economy has made "great progress" under this President. He said that the fundamentals of the 
economy are strong. And when one of his chief advisors - the man who wrote his economic plan - was 
talking about the anxiety Americans are feeling, he said that we were just suffering from a "mental 
recession," and that we've become, and I quote, "a nation of whiners."
A nation of whiners? Tell that to the proud auto workers at a Michigan plant who, after they found 
out it was closing, kept showing up every day and working as hard as ever, because they knew there 
were people who counted on the brakes that they made. Tell that to the military families who 
shoulder their burdens silently as they watch their loved ones leave for their third or fourth or fifth 
tour of duty. These are not whiners. They work hard and give back and keep going without complaint. 
These are the Americans that I know.
Now, I don't believe that Senator McCain doesn't care what's going on in the lives of Americans. I just 
think he doesn't know. Why else would he define middle-class as someone making under five million 
dollars a year? How else could he propose hundreds of billions in tax breaks for big corporations and 
oil companies but not one penny of tax relief to more than one hundred million Americans? How else 
could he offer a health care plan that would actually tax people's benefits, or an education plan that 
would do nothing to help families pay for college, or a plan that would privatize Social Security and 
gamble your retirement?
It's not because John McCain doesn't care. It's because John McCain doesn't get it.
For over two decades, he's subscribed to that old, discredited Republican philosophy - give more and 
more to those with the most and hope that prosperity trickles down to everyone else. In Washington, 
they call this the Ownership Society, but what it really means is - you're on your own. Out of work? 
Tough luck. No health care? The market will fix it. Born into poverty? Pull yourself up by your own 
bootstraps - even if you don't have boots. You're on your own.
Well it's time for them to own their failure. It's time for us to change America.
You see, we Democrats have a very different measure of what constitutes progress in this country.
We measure progress by how many people can find a job that pays the mortgage; whether you can 
put a little extra money away at the end of each month so you can someday watch your child receive 
her college diploma. We measure progress in the 23 million new jobs that were created when Bill 
Clinton was President - when the average American family saw its income go up $7,500 instead of 
down $2,000 like it has under George Bush.
We measure the strength of our economy not by the number of billionaires we have or the profits of 
the Fortune 500, but by whether someone with a good idea can take a risk and start a new business, 
or whether the waitress who lives on tips can take a day off to look after a sick kid without losing her 
job - an economy that honors the dignity of work.
The fundamentals we use to measure economic strength are whether we are living up to that 
fundamental promise that has made this country great - a promise that is the only reason I am 
standing here tonight.
Because in the faces of those young veterans who come back from Iraq and Afghanistan, I see my 
grandfather, who signed up after Pearl Harbor, marched in Patton's Army, and was rewarded by a 
grateful nation with the chance to go to college on the GI Bill.
In the face of that young student who sleeps just three hours before working the night shift, I think 
about my mom, who raised my sister and me on her own while she worked and earned her degree; 
who once turned to food stamps but was still able to send us to the best schools in the country with 
the help of student loans and scholarships.
When I listen to another worker tell me that his factory has shut down, I remember all those men and 
women on the South Side of Chicago who I stood by and fought for two decades ago after the local 
steel plant closed.
And when I hear a woman talk about the difficulties of starting her own business, I think about my 
grandmother, who worked her way up from the secretarial pool to middle-management, despite 
years of being passed over for promotions because she was a woman. She's the one who taught me 
about hard work. She's the one who put off buying a new car or a new dress for herself so that I could 
have a better life. She poured everything she had into me. And although she can no longer travel, I 
know that she's watching tonight, and that tonight is her night as well.
I don't know what kind of lives John McCain thinks that celebrities lead, but this has been mine. 
These are my heroes. Theirs are the stories that shaped me. And it is on their behalf that I intend to 
win this election and keep our promise alive as President of the United States.
What is that promise?
It's a promise that says each of us has the freedom to make of our own lives what we will, but that we 
also have the obligation to treat each other with dignity and respect.
It's a promise that says the market should reward drive and innovation and generate growth, but that 
businesses should live up to their responsibilities to create American jobs, look out for American 
workers, and play by the rules of the road.
Ours is a promise that says government cannot solve all our problems, but what it should do is that 
which we cannot do for ourselves - protect us from harm and provide every child a decent education; 
keep our water clean and our toys safe; invest in new schools and new roads and new science and 
technology.
Our government should work for us, not against us. It should help us, not hurt us. It should ensure 
opportunity not just for those with the most money and influence, but for every American who's 
willing to work.
That's the promise of America - the idea that we are responsible for ourselves, but that we also rise 
or fall as one nation; the fundamental belief that I am my brother's keeper; I am my sister's keeper.
That's the promise we need to keep. That's the change we need right now. So let me spell out exactly 
what that change would mean if I am President.
Change means a tax code that doesn't reward the lobbyists who wrote it, but the American workers 
and small businesses who deserve it.
Unlike John McCain, I will stop giving tax breaks to corporations that ship jobs overseas, and I will 
start giving them to companies that create good jobs right here in America.
I will eliminate capital gains taxes for the small businesses and the start-ups that will create the high-
wage, high-tech jobs of tomorrow.
I will cut taxes - cut taxes - for 95% of all working families. Because in an economy like this, the last 
thing we should do is raise taxes on the middle-class.
And for the sake of our economy, our security, and the future of our planet, I will set a clear goal as 
President: in ten years, we will finally end our dependence on oil from the Middle East.
Washington's been talking about our oil addiction for the last thirty years, and John McCain has been 
there for twenty-six of them. In that time, he's said no to higher fuel-efficiency standards for cars, no 
to investments in renewable energy, no to renewable fuels. And today, we import triple the amount 
of oil as the day that Senator McCain took office.
Now is the time to end this addiction, and to understand that drilling is a stop-gap measure, not a 
long-term solution. Not even close.
As President, I will tap our natural gas reserves, invest in clean coal technology, and find ways to 
safely harness nuclear power. I'll help our auto companies re-tool, so that the fuel-efficient cars of the 
future are built right here in America. I'll make it easier for the American people to afford these new 
cars. And I'll invest 150 billion dollars over the next decade in affordable, renewable sources of energy 
- wind power and solar power and the next generation of biofuels; an investment that will lead to 
new industries and five million new jobs that pay well and can't ever be outsourced.
America, now is not the time for small plans.
Now is the time to finally meet our moral obligation to provide every child a world-class education, 
because it will take nothing less to compete in the global economy. Michelle and I are only here 
tonight because we were given a chance at an education. And I will not settle for an America where 
some kids don't have that chance. I'll invest in early childhood education. I'll recruit an army of new 
teachers, and pay them higher salaries and give them more support. And in exchange, I'll ask for 
higher standards and more accountability. And we will keep our promise to every young American - if 
you commit to serving your community or your country, we will make sure you can afford a college 
education.
Now is the time to finally keep the promise of affordable, accessible health care for every single 
American. If you have health care, my plan will lower your premiums. If you don't, you'll be able to 
get the same kind of coverage that members of Congress give themselves. And as someone who 
watched my mother argue with insurance companies while she lay in bed dying of cancer, I will make 
certain those companies stop discriminating against those who are sick and need care the most.
Now is the time to help families with paid sick days and better family leave, because nobody in 
America should have to choose between keeping their jobs and caring for a sick child or ailing parent.
Now is the time to change our bankruptcy laws, so that your pensions are protected ahead of CEO 
bonuses; and the time to protect Social Security for future generations.
And now is the time to keep the promise of equal pay for an equal day's work, because I want my 
daughters to have exactly the same opportunities as your sons.
Now, many of these plans will cost money, which is why I've laid out how I'll pay for every dime - by 
closing corporate loopholes and tax havens that don't help America grow. But I will also go through 
the federal budget, line by line, eliminating programs that no longer work and making the ones we do 
need work better and cost less - because we cannot meet twenty-first century challenges with a 
twentieth century bureaucracy.
And Democrats, we must also admit that fulfilling America's promise will require more than just 
money. It will require a renewed sense of responsibility from each of us to recover what John F. 
Kennedy called our "intellectual and moral strength." Yes, government must lead on energy 
independence, but each of us must do our part to make our homes and businesses more efficient. 
Yes, we must provide more ladders to success for young men who fall into lives of crime and despair. 
But we must also admit that programs alone can't replace parents; that government can't turn off the 
television and make a child do her homework; that fathers must take more responsibility for 
providing the love and guidance their children need.
Individual responsibility and mutual responsibility - that's the essence of America's promise.
And just as we keep our keep our promise to the next generation here at home, so must we keep 
America's promise abroad. If John McCain wants to have a debate about who has the temperament, 
and judgment, to serve as the next Commander-in-Chief, that's a debate I'm ready to have.
For while Senator McCain was turning his sights to Iraq just days after 9/11, I stood up and opposed 
this war, knowing that it would distract us from the real threats we face. When John McCain said we 
could just "muddle through" in Afghanistan, I argued for more resources and more troops to finish 
the fight against the terrorists who actually attacked us on 9/11, and made clear that we must take 
out Osama bin Laden and his lieutenants if we have them in our sights. John McCain likes to say that 
he'll follow bin Laden to the Gates of Hell - but he won't even go to the cave where he lives.
And today, as my call for a time frame to remove our troops from Iraq has been echoed by the Iraqi 
government and even the Bush Administration, even after we learned that Iraq has a $79 billion 
surplus while we're wallowing in deficits, John McCain stands alone in his stubborn refusal to end a 
misguided war.
That's not the judgment we need. That won't keep America safe. We need a President who can face 
the threats of the future, not keep grasping at the ideas of the past.
You don't defeat a terrorist network that operates in eighty countries by occupying Iraq. You don't 
protect Israel and deter Iran just by talking tough in Washington. You can't truly stand up for Georgia 
when you've strained our oldest alliances. If John McCain wants to follow George Bush with more 
tough talk and bad strategy, that is his choice - but it is not the change we need.
We are the party of Roosevelt. We are the party of Kennedy. So don't tell me that Democrats won't 
defend this country. Don't tell me that Democrats won't keep us safe. The Bush-McCain foreign policy 
has squandered the legacy that generations of Americans -- Democrats and Republicans - have built, 
and we are here to restore that legacy.
As Commander-in-Chief, I will never hesitate to defend this nation, but I will only send our troops into 
harm's way with a clear mission and a sacred commitment to give them the equipment they need in 
battle and the care and benefits they deserve when they come home.
I will end this war in Iraq responsibly, and finish the fight against al Qaeda and the Taliban in 
Afghanistan. I will rebuild our military to meet future conflicts. But I will also renew the tough, direct 
diplomacy that can prevent Iran from obtaining nuclear weapons and curb Russian aggression. I will 
build new partnerships to defeat the threats of the 21st century: terrorism and nuclear proliferation; 
poverty and genocide; climate change and disease. And I will restore our moral standing, so that 
America is once again that last, best hope for all who are called to the cause of freedom, who long for 
lives of peace, and who yearn for a better future.
These are the policies I will pursue. And in the weeks ahead, I look forward to debating them with 
John McCain.
But what I will not do is suggest that the Senator takes his positions for political purposes. Because 
one of the things that we have to change in our politics is the idea that people cannot disagree 
without challenging each other's character and patriotism.
The times are too serious, the stakes are too high for this same partisan playbook. So let us agree that 
patriotism has no party. I love this country, and so do you, and so does John McCain. The men and 
women who serve in our battlefields may be Democrats and Republicans and Independents, but they 
have fought together and bled together and some died together under the same proud flag. They 
have not served a Red America or a Blue America - they have served the United States of America.
So I've got news for you, John McCain. We all put our country first.
America, our work will not be easy. The challenges we face require tough choices, and Democrats as 
well as Republicans will need to cast off the worn-out ideas and politics of the past. For part of what 
has been lost these past eight years can't just be measured by lost wages or bigger trade deficits. 
What has also been lost is our sense of common purpose - our sense of higher purpose. And that's 
what we have to restore.
We may not agree on abortion, but surely we can agree on reducing the number of unwanted 
pregnancies in this country. The reality of gun ownership may be different for hunters in rural Ohio 
than for those plagued by gang-violence in Cleveland, but don't tell me we can't uphold the Second 
Amendment while keeping AK-47s out of the hands of criminals. I know there are differences on 
same-sex marriage, but surely we can agree that our gay and lesbian brothers and sisters deserve to 
visit the person they love in the hospital and to live lives free of discrimination. Passions fly on 
immigration, but I don't know anyone who benefits when a mother is separated from her infant child 
or an employer undercuts American wages by hiring illegal workers. This too is part of America's 
promise - the promise of a democracy where we can find the strength and grace to bridge divides and 
unite in common effort.
I know there are those who dismiss such beliefs as happy talk. They claim that our insistence on 
something larger, something firmer and more honest in our public life is just a Trojan Horse for higher 
taxes and the abandonment of traditional values. And that's to be expected. Because if you don't 
have any fresh ideas, then you use stale tactics to scare the voters. If you don't have a record to run 
on, then you paint your opponent as someone people should run from.
You make a big election about small things.
And you know what - it's worked before. Because it feeds into the cynicism we all have about 
government. When Washington doesn't work, all its promises seem empty. If your hopes have been 
dashed again and again, then it's best to stop hoping, and settle for what you already know.
I get it. I realize that I am not the likeliest candidate for this office. I don't fit the typical pedigree, and 
I haven't spent my career in the halls of Washington.
But I stand before you tonight because all across America something is stirring. What the nay-sayers 
don't understand is that this election has never been about me. It's been about you.
For eighteen long months, you have stood up, one by one, and said enough to the politics of the past. 
You understand that in this election, the greatest risk we can take is to try the same old politics with 
the same old players and expect a different result. You have shown what history teaches us - that at 
defining moments like this one, the change we need doesn't come from Washington. Change comes 
to Washington. Change happens because the American people demand it - because they rise up and 
insist on new ideas and new leadership, a new politics for a new time.
America, this is one of those moments.
I believe that as hard as it will be, the change we need is coming. Because I've seen it. Because I've 
lived it. I've seen it in Illinois, when we provided health care to more children and moved more 
families from welfare to work. I've seen it in Washington, when we worked across party lines to open 
up government and hold lobbyists more accountable, to give better care for our veterans and keep 
nuclear weapons out of terrorist hands.
And I've seen it in this campaign. In the young people who voted for the first time, and in those who 
got involved again after a very long time. In the Republicans who never thought they'd pick up a 
Democratic ballot, but did. I've seen it in the workers who would rather cut their hours back a day 
than see their friends lose their jobs, in the soldiers who re-enlist after losing a limb, in the good 
neighbors who take a stranger in when a hurricane strikes and the floodwaters rise.
This country of ours has more wealth than any nation, but that's not what makes us rich. We have the 
most powerful military on Earth, but that's not what makes us strong. Our universities and our 
culture are the envy of the world, but that's not what keeps the world coming to our shores.
Instead, it is that American spirit - that American promise - that pushes us forward even when the 
path is uncertain; that binds us together in spite of our differences; that makes us fix our eye not on 
what is seen, but what is unseen, that better place around the bend.
That promise is our greatest inheritance. It's a promise I make to my daughters when I tuck them in at 
night, and a promise that you make to yours - a promise that has led immigrants to cross oceans and 
pioneers to travel west; a promise that led workers to picket lines, and women to reach for the ballot.
And it is that promise that forty five years ago today, brought Americans from every corner of this 
land to stand together on a Mall in Washington, before Lincoln's Memorial, and hear a young 
preacher from Georgia speak of his dream.
The men and women who gathered there could've heard many things. They could've heard words of 
anger and discord. They could've been told to succumb to the fear and frustration of so many dreams 
deferred.
But what the people heard instead - people of every creed and color, from every walk of life - is that 
in America, our destiny is inextricably linked. That together, our dreams can be one.
"We cannot walk alone," the preacher cried. "And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall 
always march ahead. We cannot turn back."
America, we cannot turn back. Not with so much work to be done. Not with so many children to 
educate, and so many veterans to care for. Not with an economy to fix and cities to rebuild and farms 
to save. Not with so many families to protect and so many lives to mend. America, we cannot turn 
back. We cannot walk alone. At this moment, in this election, we must pledge once more to march 
into the future. Let us keep that promise - that American promise - and in the words of Scripture hold 
firmly, without wavering, to the hope that we confess.
Thank you, and God Bless the United States of America.
To Chairman Dean and my great friend Dick Durbin; and to all my fellow citizens of this great nation;
With profound gratitude and great humility, I accept your nomination for the presidency of the 
United States.
Let me express my thanks to the historic slate of candidates who accompanied me on this journey, 
and especially the one who traveled the farthest - a champion for working Americans and an 
inspiration to my daughters and to yours -- Hillary Rodham Clinton. To President Clinton, who last 
night made the case for change as only he can make it; to Ted Kennedy, who embodies the spirit of 
service; and to the next Vice President of the United States, Joe Biden, I thank you. I am grateful to 
finish this journey with one of the finest statesmen of our time, a man at ease with everyone from 
world leaders to the conductors on the Amtrak train he still takes home every night.
To the love of my life, our next First Lady, Michelle Obama, and to Sasha and Malia - I love you so 
much, and I'm so proud of all of you.
Four years ago, I stood before you and told you my story - of the brief union between a young man 
from Kenya and a young woman from Kansas who weren't well-off or well-known, but shared a belief 
that in America, their son could achieve whatever he put his mind to.
It is that promise that has always set this country apart - that through hard work and sacrifice, each of 
us can pursue our individual dreams but still come together as one American family, to ensure that 
the next generation can pursue their dreams as well.
That's why I stand here tonight. Because for two hundred and thirty two years, at each moment when 
that promise was in jeopardy, ordinary men and women - students and soldiers, farmers and 
teachers, nurses and janitors -- found the courage to keep it alive.
We meet at one of those defining moments - a moment when our nation is at war, our economy is in 
turmoil, and the American promise has been threatened once more.
Tonight, more Americans are out of work and more are working harder for less. More of you have lost 
your homes and even more are watching your home values plummet. More of you have cars you 
can't afford to drive, credit card bills you can't afford to pay, and tuition that's beyond your reach.
These challenges are not all of government's making. But the failure to respond is a direct result of a 
broken politics in Washington and the failed policies of George W. Bush.
America, we are better than these last eight years. We are a better country than this.
This country is more decent than one where a woman in Ohio, on the brink of retirement, finds 
herself one illness away from disaster after a lifetime of hard work.
This country is more generous than one where a man in Indiana has to pack up the equipment he's 
worked on for twenty years and watch it shipped off to China, and then chokes up as he explains how 
he felt like a failure when he went home to tell his family the news.
We are more compassionate than a government that lets veterans sleep on our streets and families 
slide into poverty; that sits on its hands while a major American city drowns before our eyes.
Tonight, I say to the American people, to Democrats and Republicans and Independents across this 
great land - enough! This moment - this election - is our chance to keep, in the 21st century, the 
American promise alive. Because next week, in Minnesota, the same party that brought you two 
terms of George Bush and Dick Cheney will ask this country for a third. And we are here because we 
love this country too much to let the next four years look like the last eight. On November 4th, we 
must stand up and say: "Eight is enough."
Now let there be no doubt. The Republican nominee, John McCain, has worn the uniform of our 
country with bravery and distinction, and for that we owe him our gratitude and respect. And next 
week, we'll also hear about those occasions when he's broken with his party as evidence that he can 
deliver the change that we need.
But the record's clear: John McCain has voted with George Bush ninety percent of the time. Senator 
McCain likes to talk about judgment, but really, what does it say about your judgment when you think 
George Bush has been right more than ninety percent of the time? I don't know about you, but I'm 
not ready to take a ten percent chance on change.
The truth is, on issue after issue that would make a difference in your lives - on health care and 
education and the economy - Senator McCain has been anything but independent. He said that our 
economy has made "great progress" under this President. He said that the fundamentals of the 
economy are strong. And when one of his chief advisors - the man who wrote his economic plan - was 
talking about the anxiety Americans are feeling, he said that we were just suffering from a "mental 
recession," and that we've become, and I quote, "a nation of whiners."
A nation of whiners? Tell that to the proud auto workers at a Michigan plant who, after they found 
out it was closing, kept showing up every day and working as hard as ever, because they knew there 
were people who counted on the brakes that they made. Tell that to the military families who 
shoulder their burdens silently as they watch their loved ones leave for their third or fourth or fifth 
tour of duty. These are not whiners. They work hard and give back and keep going without complaint. 
These are the Americans that I know.
Now, I don't believe that Senator McCain doesn't care what's going on in the lives of Americans. I just 
think he doesn't know. Why else would he define middle-class as someone making under five million 
dollars a year? How else could he propose hundreds of billions in tax breaks for big corporations and 
oil companies but not one penny of tax relief to more than one hundred million Americans? How else 
could he offer a health care plan that would actually tax people's benefits, or an education plan that 
would do nothing to help families pay for college, or a plan that would privatize Social Security and 
gamble your retirement?
It's not because John McCain doesn't care. It's because John McCain doesn't get it.
For over two decades, he's subscribed to that old, discredited Republican philosophy - give more and 
more to those with the most and hope that prosperity trickles down to everyone else. In Washington, 
they call this the Ownership Society, but what it really means is - you're on your own. Out of work? 
Tough luck. No health care? The market will fix it. Born into poverty? Pull yourself up by your own 
bootstraps - even if you don't have boots. You're on your own.
Well it's time for them to own their failure. It's time for us to change America.
You see, we Democrats have a very different measure of what constitutes progress in this country.
We measure progress by how many people can find a job that pays the mortgage; whether you can 
put a little extra money away at the end of each month so you can someday watch your child receive 
her college diploma. We measure progress in the 23 million new jobs that were created when Bill 
Clinton was President - when the average American family saw its income go up $7,500 instead of 
down $2,000 like it has under George Bush.
We measure the strength of our economy not by the number of billionaires we have or the profits of 
the Fortune 500, but by whether someone with a good idea can take a risk and start a new business, 
or whether the waitress who lives on tips can take a day off to look after a sick kid without losing her 
job - an economy that honors the dignity of work.
The fundamentals we use to measure economic strength are whether we are living up to that 
fundamental promise that has made this country great - a promise that is the only reason I am 
standing here tonight.
Because in the faces of those young veterans who come back from Iraq and Afghanistan, I see my 
grandfather, who signed up after Pearl Harbor, marched in Patton's Army, and was rewarded by a 
grateful nation with the chance to go to college on the GI Bill.
In the face of that young student who sleeps just three hours before working the night shift, I think 
about my mom, who raised my sister and me on her own while she worked and earned her degree; 
who once turned to food stamps but was still able to send us to the best schools in the country with 
the help of student loans and scholarships.
When I listen to another worker tell me that his factory has shut down, I remember all those men and 
women on the South Side of Chicago who I stood by and fought for two decades ago after the local 
steel plant closed.
And when I hear a woman talk about the difficulties of starting her own business, I think about my 
grandmother, who worked her way up from the secretarial pool to middle-management, despite 
years of being passed over for promotions because she was a woman. She's the one who taught me 
about hard work. She's the one who put off buying a new car or a new dress for herself so that I could 
have a better life. She poured everything she had into me. And although she can no longer travel, I 
know that she's watching tonight, and that tonight is her night as well.
I don't know what kind of lives John McCain thinks that celebrities lead, but this has been mine. 
These are my heroes. Theirs are the stories that shaped me. And it is on their behalf that I intend to 
win this election and keep our promise alive as President of the United States.
What is that promise?
It's a promise that says each of us has the freedom to make of our own lives what we will, but that we 
also have the obligation to treat each other with dignity and respect.
It's a promise that says the market should reward drive and innovation and generate growth, but that 
businesses should live up to their responsibilities to create American jobs, look out for American 
workers, and play by the rules of the road.
Ours is a promise that says government cannot solve all our problems, but what it should do is that 
which we cannot do for ourselves - protect us from harm and provide every child a decent education; 
keep our water clean and our toys safe; invest in new schools and new roads and new science and 
technology.
Our government should work for us, not against us. It should help us, not hurt us. It should ensure 
opportunity not just for those with the most money and influence, but for every American who's 
willing to work.
That's the promise of America - the idea that we are responsible for ourselves, but that we also rise 
or fall as one nation; the fundamental belief that I am my brother's keeper; I am my sister's keeper.
That's the promise we need to keep. That's the change we need right now. So let me spell out exactly 
what that change would mean if I am President.
Change means a tax code that doesn't reward the lobbyists who wrote it, but the American workers 
and small businesses who deserve it.
Unlike John McCain, I will stop giving tax breaks to corporations that ship jobs overseas, and I will 
start giving them to companies that create good jobs right here in America.
I will eliminate capital gains taxes for the small businesses and the start-ups that will create the high-
wage, high-tech jobs of tomorrow.
I will cut taxes - cut taxes - for 95% of all working families. Because in an economy like this, the last 
thing we should do is raise taxes on the middle-class.
And for the sake of our economy, our security, and the future of our planet, I will set a clear goal as 
President: in ten years, we will finally end our dependence on oil from the Middle East.
Washington's been talking about our oil addiction for the last thirty years, and John McCain has been 
there for twenty-six of them. In that time, he's said no to higher fuel-efficiency standards for cars, no 
to investments in renewable energy, no to renewable fuels. And today, we import triple the amount 
of oil as the day that Senator McCain took office.
Now is the time to end this addiction, and to understand that drilling is a stop-gap measure, not a 
long-term solution. Not even close.
As President, I will tap our natural gas reserves, invest in clean coal technology, and find ways to 
safely harness nuclear power. I'll help our auto companies re-tool, so that the fuel-efficient cars of the 
future are built right here in America. I'll make it easier for the American people to afford these new 
cars. And I'll invest 150 billion dollars over the next decade in affordable, renewable sources of energy 
- wind power and solar power and the next generation of biofuels; an investment that will lead to 
new industries and five million new jobs that pay well and can't ever be outsourced.
America, now is not the time for small plans.
Now is the time to finally meet our moral obligation to provide every child a world-class education, 
because it will take nothing less to compete in the global economy. Michelle and I are only here 
tonight because we were given a chance at an education. And I will not settle for an America where 
some kids don't have that chance. I'll invest in early childhood education. I'll recruit an army of new 
teachers, and pay them higher salaries and give them more support. And in exchange, I'll ask for 
higher standards and more accountability. And we will keep our promise to every young American - if 
you commit to serving your community or your country, we will make sure you can afford a college 
education.
Now is the time to finally keep the promise of affordable, accessible health care for every single 
American. If you have health care, my plan will lower your premiums. If you don't, you'll be able to 
get the same kind of coverage that members of Congress give themselves. And as someone who 
watched my mother argue with insurance companies while she lay in bed dying of cancer, I will make 
certain those companies stop discriminating against those who are sick and need care the most.
Now is the time to help families with paid sick days and better family leave, because nobody in 
America should have to choose between keeping their jobs and caring for a sick child or ailing parent.
Now is the time to change our bankruptcy laws, so that your pensions are protected ahead of CEO 
bonuses; and the time to protect Social Security for future generations.
And now is the time to keep the promise of equal pay for an equal day's work, because I want my 
daughters to have exactly the same opportunities as your sons.
Now, many of these plans will cost money, which is why I've laid out how I'll pay for every dime - by 
closing corporate loopholes and tax havens that don't help America grow. But I will also go through 
the federal budget, line by line, eliminating programs that no longer work and making the ones we do 
need work better and cost less - because we cannot meet twenty-first century challenges with a 
twentieth century bureaucracy.
And Democrats, we must also admit that fulfilling America's promise will require more than just 
money. It will require a renewed sense of responsibility from each of us to recover what John F. 
Kennedy called our "intellectual and moral strength." Yes, government must lead on energy 
independence, but each of us must do our part to make our homes and businesses more efficient. 
Yes, we must provide more ladders to success for young men who fall into lives of crime and despair. 
But we must also admit that programs alone can't replace parents; that government can't turn off the 
television and make a child do her homework; that fathers must take more responsibility for 
providing the love and guidance their children need.
Individual responsibility and mutual responsibility - that's the essence of America's promise.
And just as we keep our keep our promise to the next generation here at home, so must we keep 
America's promise abroad. If John McCain wants to have a debate about who has the temperament, 
and judgment, to serve as the next Commander-in-Chief, that's a debate I'm ready to have.
For while Senator McCain was turning his sights to Iraq just days after 9/11, I stood up and opposed 
this war, knowing that it would distract us from the real threats we face. When John McCain said we 
could just "muddle through" in Afghanistan, I argued for more resources and more troops to finish 
the fight against the terrorists who actually attacked us on 9/11, and made clear that we must take 
out Osama bin Laden and his lieutenants if we have them in our sights. John McCain likes to say that 
he'll follow bin Laden to the Gates of Hell - but he won't even go to the cave where he lives.
And today, as my call for a time frame to remove our troops from Iraq has been echoed by the Iraqi 
government and even the Bush Administration, even after we learned that Iraq has a $79 billion 
surplus while we're wallowing in deficits, John McCain stands alone in his stubborn refusal to end a 
misguided war.
That's not the judgment we need. That won't keep America safe. We need a President who can face 
the threats of the future, not keep grasping at the ideas of the past.
You don't defeat a terrorist network that operates in eighty countries by occupying Iraq. You don't 
protect Israel and deter Iran just by talking tough in Washington. You can't truly stand up for Georgia 
when you've strained our oldest alliances. If John McCain wants to follow George Bush with more 
tough talk and bad strategy, that is his choice - but it is not the change we need.
We are the party of Roosevelt. We are the party of Kennedy. So don't tell me that Democrats won't 
defend this country. Don't tell me that Democrats won't keep us safe. The Bush-McCain foreign policy 
has squandered the legacy that generations of Americans -- Democrats and Republicans - have built, 
and we are here to restore that legacy.
As Commander-in-Chief, I will never hesitate to defend this nation, but I will only send our troops into 
harm's way with a clear mission and a sacred commitment to give them the equipment they need in 
battle and the care and benefits they deserve when they come home.
I will end this war in Iraq responsibly, and finish the fight against al Qaeda and the Taliban in 
Afghanistan. I will rebuild our military to meet future conflicts. But I will also renew the tough, direct 
diplomacy that can prevent Iran from obtaining nuclear weapons and curb Russian aggression. I will 
build new partnerships to defeat the threats of the 21st century: terrorism and nuclear proliferation; 
poverty and genocide; climate change and disease. And I will restore our moral standing, so that 
America is once again that last, best hope for all who are called to the cause of freedom, who long for 
lives of peace, and who yearn for a better future.
These are the policies I will pursue. And in the weeks ahead, I look forward to debating them with 
John McCain.
But what I will not do is suggest that the Senator takes his positions for political purposes. Because 
one of the things that we have to change in our politics is the idea that people cannot disagree 
without challenging each other's character and patriotism.
The times are too serious, the stakes are too high for this same partisan playbook. So let us agree that 
patriotism has no party. I love this country, and so do you, and so does John McCain. The men and 
women who serve in our battlefields may be Democrats and Republicans and Independents, but they 
have fought together and bled together and some died together under the same proud flag. They 
have not served a Red America or a Blue America - they have served the United States of America.
So I've got news for you, John McCain. We all put our country first.
America, our work will not be easy. The challenges we face require tough choices, and Democrats as 
well as Republicans will need to cast off the worn-out ideas and politics of the past. For part of what 
has been lost these past eight years can't just be measured by lost wages or bigger trade deficits. 
What has also been lost is our sense of common purpose - our sense of higher purpose. And that's 
what we have to restore.
We may not agree on abortion, but surely we can agree on reducing the number of unwanted 
pregnancies in this country. The reality of gun ownership may be different for hunters in rural Ohio 
than for those plagued by gang-violence in Cleveland, but don't tell me we can't uphold the Second 
Amendment while keeping AK-47s out of the hands of criminals. I know there are differences on 
same-sex marriage, but surely we can agree that our gay and lesbian brothers and sisters deserve to 
visit the person they love in the hospital and to live lives free of discrimination. Passions fly on 
immigration, but I don't know anyone who benefits when a mother is separated from her infant child 
or an employer undercuts American wages by hiring illegal workers. This too is part of America's 
promise - the promise of a democracy where we can find the strength and grace to bridge divides and 
unite in common effort.
I know there are those who dismiss such beliefs as happy talk. They claim that our insistence on 
something larger, something firmer and more honest in our public life is just a Trojan Horse for higher 
taxes and the abandonment of traditional values. And that's to be expected. Because if you don't 
have any fresh ideas, then you use stale tactics to scare the voters. If you don't have a record to run 
on, then you paint your opponent as someone people should run from.
You make a big election about small things.
And you know what - it's worked before. Because it feeds into the cynicism we all have about 
government. When Washington doesn't work, all its promises seem empty. If your hopes have been 
dashed again and again, then it's best to stop hoping, and settle for what you already know.
I get it. I realize that I am not the likeliest candidate for this office. I don't fit the typical pedigree, and 
I haven't spent my career in the halls of Washington.
But I stand before you tonight because all across America something is stirring. What the nay-sayers 
don't understand is that this election has never been about me. It's been about you.
For eighteen long months, you have stood up, one by one, and said enough to the politics of the past. 
You understand that in this election, the greatest risk we can take is to try the same old politics with 
the same old players and expect a different result. You have shown what history teaches us - that at 
defining moments like this one, the change we need doesn't come from Washington. Change comes 
to Washington. Change happens because the American people demand it - because they rise up and 
insist on new ideas and new leadership, a new politics for a new time.
America, this is one of those moments.
I believe that as hard as it will be, the change we need is coming. Because I've seen it. Because I've 
lived it. I've seen it in Illinois, when we provided health care to more children and moved more 
families from welfare to work. I've seen it in Washington, when we worked across party lines to open 
up government and hold lobbyists more accountable, to give better care for our veterans and keep 
nuclear weapons out of terrorist hands.
And I've seen it in this campaign. In the young people who voted for the first time, and in those who 
got involved again after a very long time. In the Republicans who never thought they'd pick up a 
Democratic ballot, but did. I've seen it in the workers who would rather cut their hours back a day 
than see their friends lose their jobs, in the soldiers who re-enlist after losing a limb, in the good 
neighbors who take a stranger in when a hurricane strikes and the floodwaters rise.
This country of ours has more wealth than any nation, but that's not what makes us rich. We have the 
most powerful military on Earth, but that's not what makes us strong. Our universities and our 
culture are the envy of the world, but that's not what keeps the world coming to our shores.
Instead, it is that American spirit - that American promise - that pushes us forward even when the 
path is uncertain; that binds us together in spite of our differences; that makes us fix our eye not on 
what is seen, but what is unseen, that better place around the bend.
That promise is our greatest inheritance. It's a promise I make to my daughters when I tuck them in at 
night, and a promise that you make to yours - a promise that has led immigrants to cross oceans and 
pioneers to travel west; a promise that led workers to picket lines, and women to reach for the ballot.
And it is that promise that forty five years ago today, brought Americans from every corner of this 
land to stand together on a Mall in Washington, before Lincoln's Memorial, and hear a young 
preacher from Georgia speak of his dream.
The men and women who gathered there could've heard many things. They could've heard words of 
anger and discord. They could've been told to succumb to the fear and frustration of so many dreams 
deferred.
But what the people heard instead - people of every creed and color, from every walk of life - is that 
in America, our destiny is inextricably linked. That together, our dreams can be one.
"We cannot walk alone," the preacher cried. "And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall 
always march ahead. We cannot turn back."
America, we cannot turn back. Not with so much work to be done. Not with so many children to 
educate, and so many veterans to care for. Not with an economy to fix and cities to rebuild and farms 
to save. Not with so many families to protect and so many lives to mend. America, we cannot turn 
back. We cannot walk alone. At this moment, in this election, we must pledge once more to march 
into the future. Let us keep that promise - that American promise - and in the words of Scripture hold 
firmly, without wavering, to the hope that we confess.
Thank you, and God Bless the United States of America.
Tonight, after fifty-four hard-fought contests, our primary season has finally come to an end.
Sixteen months have passed since we first stood together on the steps of the Old State Capitol in 
Springfield, Illinois. Thousands of miles have been traveled. Millions of voices have been heard. And 
because of what you said – because you decided that change must come to Washington; because you 
believed that this year must be different than all the rest; because you chose to listen not to your 
doubts or your fears but to your greatest hopes and highest aspirations, tonight we mark the end of 
one historic journey with the beginning of another – a journey that will bring a new and better day to 
America. Tonight, I can stand before you and say that I will be the Democratic nominee for President 
of the United States.
I want to thank every American who stood with us over the course of this campaign – through the 
good days and the bad; from the snows of Cedar Rapids to the sunshine of Sioux Falls. And tonight I 
also want to thank the men and woman who took this journey with me as fellow candidates for 
President.
At this defining moment for our nation, we should be proud that our party put forth one of the most 
talented, qualified field of individuals ever to run for this office. I have not just competed with them 
as rivals, I have learned from them as friends, as public servants, and as patriots who love America 
and are willing to work tirelessly to make this country better. They are leaders of this party, and 
leaders that America will turn to for years to come.
That is particularly true for the candidate who has traveled further on this journey than anyone else. 
Senator Hillary Clinton has made history in this campaign not just because she's a woman who has 
done what no woman has done before, but because she's a leader who inspires millions of Americans 
with her strength, her courage, and her commitment to the causes that brought us here tonight.
We've certainly had our differences over the last sixteen months. But as someone who's shared a 
stage with her many times, I can tell you that what gets Hillary Clinton up in the morning – even in 
the face of tough odds – is exactly what sent her and Bill Clinton to sign up for their first campaign in 
Texas all those years ago; what sent her to work at the Children's Defense Fund and made her fight 
for health care as First Lady; what led her to the United States Senate and fueled her barrier-breaking 
campaign for the presidency – an unyielding desire to improve the lives of ordinary Americans, no 
matter how difficult the fight may be. And you can rest assured that when we finally win the battle for 
universal health care in this country, she will be central to that victory. When we transform our 
energy policy and lift our children out of poverty, it will be because she worked to help make it 
happen. Our party and our country are better off because of her, and I am a better candidate for 
having had the honor to compete with Hillary Rodham Clinton.
There are those who say that this primary has somehow left us weaker and more divided. Well I say 
that because of this primary, there are millions of Americans who have cast their ballot for the very 
first time. There are Independents and Republicans who understand that this election isn't just about 
the party in charge of Washington, it's about the need to change Washington. There are young 
people, and African-Americans, and Latinos, and women of all ages who have voted in numbers that 
have broken records and inspired a nation.
All of you chose to support a candidate you believe in deeply. But at the end of the day, we aren't the 
reason you came out and waited in lines that stretched block after block to make your voice heard. 
You didn't do that because of me or Senator Clinton or anyone else. You did it because you know in 
your hearts that at this moment – a moment that will define a generation – we cannot afford to keep 
doing what we've been doing. We owe our children a better future. We owe our country a better 
future. And for all those who dream of that future tonight, I say – let us begin the work together. Let 
us unite in common effort to chart a new course for America.
In just a few short months, the Republican Party will arrive in St. Paul with a very different agenda. 
They will come here to nominate John McCain, a man who has served this country heroically. I honor 
that service, and I respect his many accomplishments, even if he chooses to deny mine. My 
differences with him are not personal; they are with the policies he has proposed in this campaign.
Because while John McCain can legitimately tout moments of independence from his party in the 
past, such independence has not been the hallmark of his presidential campaign.
It's not change when John McCain decided to stand with George Bush ninety-five percent of the time, 
as he did in the Senate last year.
It's not change when he offers four more years of Bush economic policies that have failed to create 
well-paying jobs, or insure our workers, or help Americans afford the skyrocketing cost of college – 
policies that have lowered the real incomes of the average American family, widened the gap 
between Wall Street and Main Street, and left our children with a mountain of debt.
And it's not change when he promises to continue a policy in Iraq that asks everything of our brave 
men and women in uniform and nothing of Iraqi politicians – a policy where all we look for are 
reasons to stay in Iraq, while we spend billions of dollars a month on a war that isn't making the 
American people any safer.
So I'll say this – there are many words to describe John McCain's attempt to pass off his embrace of 
George Bush's policies as bipartisan and new. But change is not one of them.
Change is a foreign policy that doesn't begin and end with a war that should've never been 
authorized and never been waged. I won't stand here and pretend that there are many good options 
left in Iraq, but what's not an option is leaving our troops in that country for the next hundred years – 
especially at a time when our military is overstretched, our nation is isolated, and nearly every other 
threat to America is being ignored.
We must be as careful getting out of Iraq as we were careless getting in - but start leaving we must. 
It's time for Iraqis to take responsibility for their future. It's time to rebuild our military and give our 
veterans the care they need and the benefits they deserve when they come home. It's time to 
refocus our efforts on al Qaeda's leadership and Afghanistan, and rally the world against the common 
threats of the 21st century – terrorism and nuclear weapons; climate change and poverty; genocide 
and disease. That's what change is.
Change is realizing that meeting today's threats requires not just our firepower, but the power of our 
diplomacy – tough, direct diplomacy where the President of the United States isn't afraid to let any 
petty dictator know where America stands and what we stand for. We must once again have the 
courage and conviction to lead the free world. That is the legacy of Roosevelt, and Truman, and 
Kennedy. That's what the American people want. That's what change is.
Change is building an economy that rewards not just wealth, but the work and workers who created 
it. It's understanding that the struggles facing working families can't be solved by spending billions of 
dollars on more tax breaks for big corporations and wealthy CEOs, but by giving a the middle-class a 
tax break, and investing in our crumbling infrastructure, and transforming how we use energy, and 
improving our schools, and renewing our commitment to science and innovation. It's understanding 
that fiscal responsibility and shared prosperity can go hand-in-hand, as they did when Bill Clinton was 
President.
John McCain has spent a lot of time talking about trips to Iraq in the last few weeks, but maybe if he 
spent some time taking trips to the cities and towns that have been hardest hit by this economy – 
cities in Michigan, and Ohio, and right here in Minnesota – he'd understand the kind of change that 
people are looking for.
Maybe if he went to Iowa and met the student who works the night shift after a full day of class and 
still can't pay the medical bills for a sister who's ill, he'd understand that she can't afford four more 
years of a health care plan that only takes care of the healthy and wealthy. She needs us to pass 
health care plan that guarantees insurance to every American who wants it and brings down 
premiums for every family who needs it. That's the change we need.
Maybe if he went to Pennsylvania and met the man who lost his job but can't even afford the gas to 
drive around and look for a new one, he'd understand that we can't afford four more years of our 
addiction to oil from dictators. That man needs us to pass an energy policy that works with 
automakers to raise fuel standards, and makes corporations pay for their pollution, and oil companies 
invest their record profits in a clean energy future – an energy policy that will create millions of new 
jobs that pay well and can't be outsourced. That's the change we need.
And maybe if he spent some time in the schools of South Carolina or St. Paul or where he spoke 
tonight in New Orleans, he'd understand that we can't afford to leave the money behind for No Child 
Left Behind; that we owe it to our children to invest in early childhood education; to recruit an army 
of new teachers and give them better pay and more support; to finally decide that in this global 
economy, the chance to get a college education should not be a privilege for the wealthy few, but the 
birthright of every American. That's the change we need in America. That's why I'm running for 
President.
The other side will come here in September and offer a very different set of policies and positions, 
and that is a debate I look forward to. It is a debate the American people deserve. But what you don't 
deserve is another election that's governed by fear, and innuendo, and division. What you won't hear 
from this campaign or this party is the kind of politics that uses religion as a wedge, and patriotism as 
a bludgeon – that sees our opponents not as competitors to challenge, but enemies to demonize. 
Because we may call ourselves Democrats and Republicans, but we are Americans first. We are 
always Americans first.
Despite what the good Senator from Arizona said tonight, I have seen people of differing views and 
opinions find common cause many times during my two decades in public life, and I have brought 
many together myself. I've walked arm-in-arm with community leaders on the South Side of Chicago 
and watched tensions fade as black, white, and Latino fought together for good jobs and good 
schools. I've sat across the table from law enforcement and civil rights advocates to reform a criminal 
justice system that sent thirteen innocent people to death row. And I've worked with friends in the 
other party to provide more children with health insurance and more working families with a tax 
break; to curb the spread of nuclear weapons and ensure that the American people know where their 
tax dollars are being spent; and to reduce the influence of lobbyists who have all too often set the 
agenda in Washington.
In our country, I have found that this cooperation happens not because we agree on everything, but 
because behind all the labels and false divisions and categories that define us; beyond all the petty 
bickering and point-scoring in Washington, Americans are a decent, generous, compassionate people, 
united by common challenges and common hopes. And every so often, there are moments which call 
on that fundamental goodness to make this country great again.
So it was for that band of patriots who declared in a Philadelphia hall the formation of a more perfect 
union; and for all those who gave on the fields of Gettysburg and Antietam their last full measure of 
devotion to save that same union.
So it was for the Greatest Generation that conquered fear itself, and liberated a continent from 
tyranny, and made this country home to untold opportunity and prosperity.
So it was for the workers who stood out on the picket lines; the women who shattered glass ceilings; 
the children who braved a Selma bridge for freedom's cause.
So it has been for every generation that faced down the greatest challenges and the most improbable 
odds to leave their children a world that's better, and kinder, and more just.
And so it must be for us.
America, this is our moment. This is our time. Our time to turn the page on the policies of the past. 
Our time to bring new energy and new ideas to the challenges we face. Our time to offer a new 
direction for the country we love.
The journey will be difficult. The road will be long. I face this challenge with profound humility, and 
knowledge of my own limitations. But I also face it with limitless faith in the capacity of the American 
people. Because if we are willing to work for it, and fight for it, and believe in it, then I am absolutely 
certain that generations from now, we will be able to look back and tell our children that this was the 
moment when we began to provide care for the sick and good jobs to the jobless; this was the 
moment when the rise of the oceans began to slow and our planet began to heal; this was the 
moment when we ended a war and secured our nation and restored our image as the last, best hope 
on Earth. This was the moment – this was the time – when we came together to remake this great 
nation so that it may always reflect our very best selves, and our highest ideals. Thank you, God Bless 
you, and may God Bless the United States of America.
You know, some were saying that North Carolina would be a game-changer in this election. But today, 
what North Carolina decided is that the only game that needs changing is the one in Washington, DC.
I want to start by congratulating Senator Clinton on her victory in the state of Indiana. And I want to 
thank the people of North Carolina for giving us a victory in a big state, a swing state, and a state 
where we will compete to win if I am the Democratic nominee for President of the United States.
When this campaign began, Washington didn't give us much of a chance. But because you came out 
in the bitter cold, and knocked on doors, and enlisted your friends and neighbors in this cause; 
because you stood up to the cynics, and the doubters, and the nay-sayers when we were up and 
when we were down; because you still believe that this is our moment, and our time, for change – 
tonight we stand less than two hundred delegates away from securing the Democratic nomination for 
President of the United States.
More importantly, because of you, we have seen that it's possible to overcome the politics of division 
and distraction; that it's possible to overcome the same old negative attacks that are always about 
scoring points and never about solving our problems. We've seen that the American people aren't 
looking for more spin or more gimmicks, but honest answers about the challenges we face. That's 
what you've accomplished in this campaign, and that's how we'll change this country together.
This has been one of the longest, most closely fought contests in history. And that's partly because 
we have such a formidable opponent in Senator Hillary Clinton. Tonight, many of the pundits have 
suggested that this party is inalterably divided – that Senator Clinton's supporters will not support 
me, and that my supporters will not support her.
Well I'm here tonight to tell you that I don't believe it. Yes, there have been bruised feelings on both 
sides. Yes, each side desperately wants their candidate to win. But ultimately, this race is not about 
Hillary Clinton or Barack Obama or John McCain. This election is about you – the American people – 
and whether we will have a president and a party that can lead us toward a brighter future.
This primary season may not be over, but when it is, we will have to remember who we are as 
Democrats – that we are the party of Jefferson and Jackson; of Roosevelt and Kennedy; and that we 
are at our best when we lead with principle; when we lead with conviction; when we summon an 
entire nation around a common purpose – a higher purpose. This fall, we intend to march forward as 
one Democratic Party, united by a common vision for this country. Because we all agree that at this 
defining moment in history – a moment when we're facing two wars, an economy in turmoil, a planet 
in peril – we can't afford to give John McCain the chance to serve out George Bush's third term. We 
need change in America.
The woman I met in Indiana who just lost her job, and her pension, and her insurance when the plant 
where she worked at her entire life closed down – she can't afford four more years of tax breaks for 
corporations like the one that shipped her job overseas. She needs us to give tax breaks to companies 
that create good jobs here in America. She can't afford four more years of tax breaks for CEOs like the 
one who walked away from her company with a multi-million dollar bonus. She needs middle-class 
tax relief that will help her pay the skyrocketing price of groceries, and gas, and college tuition. That's 
why I'm running for President.
The college student I met in Iowa who works the night shift after a full day of class and still can't pay 
the medical bills for a sister who's ill – she can't afford four more years of a health care plan that only 
takes care of the healthy and the wealthy; that allows insurance companies to discriminate and deny 
coverage to those Americans who need it most. She needs us to stand up to those insurance 
companies and pass a plan that lowers every family's premiums and gives every uninsured American 
the same kind of coverage that Members of Congress give themselves. That's why I'm running for 
President.
The mother in Wisconsin who gave me a bracelet inscribed with the name of the son she lost in Iraq; 
the families who pray for their loved ones to come home; the heroes on their third and fourth and 
fifth tour of duty – they can't afford four more years of a war that should've never been authorized 
and never been waged. They can't afford four more years of our veterans returning to broken-down 
barracks and substandard care. They need us to end a war that isn't making us safer. They need us to 
treat them with the care and respect they deserve. That's why I'm running for President.
The man I met in Pennsylvania who lost his job but can't even afford the gas to drive around and look 
for a new one – he can't afford four more years of an energy policy written by the oil companies and 
for the oil companies; a policy that's not only keeping gas at record prices, but funding both sides of 
the war on terror and destroying our planet in the process. He doesn't need four more years of 
Washington policies that sound good, but don't solve the problem. He needs us to take a permanent 
holiday from our oil addiction by making the automakers raise their fuel standards, corporations pay 
for their pollution, and oil companies invest their record profits in a clean energy future. That's the 
change we need. And that's why I'm running for President.
The people I've met in small towns and big cities across this country understand that government 
can't solve all our problems – and we don't expect it to. We believe in hard work. We believe in 
personal responsibility and self-reliance.
But we also believe that we have a larger responsibility to one another as Americans – that America is 
a place – that America is the place – where you can make it if you try. That no matter how much 
money you start with or where you come from or who your parents are, opportunity is yours if you're 
willing to reach for it and work for it. It's the idea that while there are few guarantees in life, you 
should be able to count on a job that pays the bills; health care for when you need it; a pension for 
when you retire; an education for your children that will allow them to fulfill their God-given 
potential. That's the America we believe in. That's the America I know.
This is the country that gave my grandfather a chance to go to college on the GI Bill when he came 
home from World War II; a country that gave him and my grandmother the chance to buy their first 
home with a loan from the government.
This is the country that made it possible for my mother – a single parent who had to go on food 
stamps at one point – to send my sister and me to the best schools in the country on scholarships.
This is the country that allowed my father-in-law – a city worker at a South Side water filtration plant 
– to provide for his wife and two children on a single salary. This is a man who was diagnosed at age 
thirty with multiple sclerosis – who relied on a walker to get himself to work. And yet, every day he 
went, and he labored, and he sent my wife and her brother to one of the best colleges in the nation. 
It was a job that didn't just give him a paycheck, but a sense of dignity and self-worth. It was an 
America that didn't just reward wealth, but the work and the workers who created it.
Somewhere along the way, between all the bickering and the influence-peddling and the game-
playing of the last few decades, Washington and Wall Street have lost touch with these values. And 
while I honor John McCain's service to his country, his ideas for America are out of touch with these 
values. His plans for the future are nothing more than the failed policies of the past. And his plan to 
win in November appears to come from the very same playbook that his side has used time after 
time in election after election.
Yes, we know what's coming. We've seen it already. The same names and labels they always pin on 
everyone who doesn't agree with all their ideas. The same efforts to distract us from the issues that 
affect our lives by pouncing on every gaffe and association and fake controversy in the hope that the 
media will play along. The attempts to play on our fears and exploit our differences to turn us against 
each other for pure political gain – to slice and dice this country into Red States and Blue States; blue-
collar and white-collar; white and black, and brown.
This is what they will do – no matter which one of us is the nominee. The question, then, is not what 
kind of campaign they'll run, it's what kind of campaign we will run. It's what we will do to make this 
year different. I didn't get into race thinking that I could avoid this kind of politics, but I am running 
for President because this is the time to end it.
We will end it this time not because I'm perfect – I think by now this campaign has reminded all of us 
of that. We will end it not by duplicating the same tactics and the same strategies as the other side, 
because that will just lead us down the same path of polarization and gridlock.
We will end it by telling the truth – forcefully, repeatedly, confidently – and by trusting that the 
American people will embrace the need for change.
Because that's how we've always changed this country – not from the top-down, but from the 
bottom-up; when you – the American people – decide that the stakes are too high and the challenges 
are too great.
The other side can label and name-call all they want, but I trust the American people to recognize 
that it's not surrender to end the war in Iraq so that we can rebuild our military and go after al 
Qaeda's leaders. I trust the American people to understand that it's not weakness, but wisdom to talk 
not just to our friends, but our enemies – like Roosevelt did, and Kennedy did, and Truman did.
I trust the American people to realize that while we don't need big government, we do need a 
government that stands up for families who are being tricked out of their homes by Wall Street 
predators; a government that stands up for the middle-class by giving them a tax break; a 
government that ensures that no American will ever lose their life savings just because their child 
gets sick. Security and opportunity; compassion and prosperity aren't liberal values or conservative 
values – they're American values.
Most of all, I trust the American people's desire to no longer be defined by our differences. Because 
no matter where I've been in this country – whether it was the corn fields of Iowa or the textile mills 
of the Carolinas; the streets of San Antonio or the foothills of Georgia – I've found that while we may 
have different stories, we hold common hopes. We may not look the same or come from the same 
place, but we want to move in the same direction – towards a better future for our children and our 
grandchildren.
That's why I'm in this race. I love this country too much to see it divided and distracted at this 
moment in history. I believe in our ability to perfect this union because it's the only reason I'm 
standing here today. And I know the promise of America because I have lived it.
It is the light of opportunity that led my father across an ocean.
It is the founding ideals that the flag draped over my grandfather's coffin stands for – it is life, and 
liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
It's the simple truth I learned all those years ago when I worked in the shadows of a shuttered steel 
mill on the South Side of Chicago – that in this country, justice can be won against the greatest of 
odds; hope can find its way back to the darkest of corners; and when we are told that we cannot 
bring about the change that we seek, we answer with one voice – yes we can.
So don't ever forget that this election is not about me, or any candidate. Don't ever forget that this 
campaign is about you – about your hopes, about your dreams, about your struggles, about securing 
your portion of the American Dream.
Don't ever forget that we have a choice in this country – that we can choose not to be divided; that 
we can choose not to be afraid; that we can still choose this moment to finally come together and 
solve the problems we've talked about all those other years in all those other elections.
This time can be different than all the rest. This time we can face down those who say our road is too 
long; that our climb is too steep; that we can no longer achieve the change that we seek. This is our 
time to answer the call that so many generations of Americans have answered before – by insisting 
that by hard work, and by sacrifice, the American Dream will endure. Thank you, and may God Bless 
the United States of America.
I want to start by congratulating Senator Clinton on her victory tonight, and I want to thank the 
hundreds of thousands of Pennsylvanians who stood with our campaign today.
There were a lot of folks who didn't think we could make this a close race when it started. But we 
worked hard, and we traveled across the state to big cities and small towns, to factory floors and VFW 
halls. And now, six weeks later, we closed the gap. We rallied people of every age and race and 
background to our cause. And whether they were inspired for the first time or for the first time in a 
long time, we registered a record number of voters who will lead our party to victory in November.
These Americans cast their ballot for the same reason you came here tonight; for the same reason 
that millions of Americans have gone door-to-door and given whatever small amount they can to this 
campaign; for the same reason that we began this journey just a few hundred miles from here on a 
cold February morning in Springfield - because we believe that the challenges we face are bigger than 
the smallness of our politics, and we know that this election is our chance to change it.
After fourteen long months, it's easy to forget this from time to time - to lose sight of the fierce 
urgency of this moment. It's easy to get caught up in the distractions and the silliness and the tit-for-
tat that consumes our politics; the bickering that none of us are immune to, and that trivializes the 
profound issues - two wars, an economy in recession, a planet in peril.
But that kind of politics is not why we're here. It's not why I'm here and it's not why you're here.
We're here because of the more than one hundred workers in Logansport, Indiana who just found out 
that their company has decided to move its entire factory to Taiwan.
We're here because of the young man I met in Youngsville, North Carolina who almost lost his home 
because he has three children with cystic fibrosis and couldn't pay their medical bills; who still 
doesn't have health insurance for himself or his wife and lives in fear that a single illness could cost 
them everything.
We're here because there are families all across this country who are sitting around the kitchen table 
right now trying to figure out how to pay their insurance premiums, and their kids' tuition, and still 
make the mortgage so they're not the next ones in the neighborhood to put a For Sale sign in the 
front yard; who will lay awake tonight wondering if next week's paycheck will cover next month's 
bills.
We're not here to talk about change for change's sake, but because our families, our communities, 
and our country desperately need it. We're here because we can't afford to keep doing what we've 
been doing for another four years. We can't afford to play the same Washington games with the same 
Washington players and expect a different result. Not this time. Not now.
We already know what we're getting from the other party's nominee. John McCain has offered this 
country a lifetime of service, and we respect that, but what he's not offering is any meaningful 
change from the policies of George W. Bush.
John McCain believes that George Bush's Iraq policy is a success, so he's offering four more years of a 
war with no exit strategy; a war that's sending our troops on their third tour, and fourth tour, and fifth 
tour of duty; a war that's costing us billions of dollars a month and hasn't made us any safer.
John McCain said that George Bush's economic policies have led to "great progress" over the last 
seven years, and so he's promising four more years of tax cuts for CEOs and corporations who didn't 
need them and weren't asking for them; tax cuts that he once voted against because he said they 
"offended his conscience."
Well they may have stopped offending John McCain's conscience somewhere along the road to the 
White House, but George Bush's economic policies still offend ours. Because I don't think that the 
232,000 Americans who've lost their jobs this year are seeing the great progress that John McCain 
has seen. I don't think the millions of Americans losing their homes have seen that progress. I don't 
think the families without health care and the workers without pensions have seen that progress. 
And if we continue down the same reckless path, I don't think that future generations who'll be 
saddled with debt will see these as years of progress.
We already know that John McCain offers more of the same. The question is not whether the other 
party will bring about change in Washington - the question is, will we?
Because the truth is, the challenges we face are not just the fault of one man or one party. How many 
years - how many decades - have we been talking about solving our health care crisis? How many 
Presidents have promised to end our dependence on foreign oil? How many jobs have gone overseas 
in the 70s, and the 80s, and the 90s? And we still haven't done anything about it. And we know why.
In every election, politicians come to your cities and your towns, and they tell you what you want to 
hear, and they make big promises, and they lay out all these plans and policies. But then they go back 
to Washington when the campaign's over. Lobbyists spend millions of dollars to get their way. The 
status quo sets in. And instead of fighting for health care or jobs, Washington ends up fighting over 
the latest distraction of the week. It happens year after year after year.
Well this is your chance to say "Not this year." This is your chance to say "Not this time." We have a 
choice in this election.
We can be a party that says there's no problem with taking money from Washington lobbyists - from 
oil lobbyists and drug lobbyists and insurance lobbyists. We can pretend that they represent real 
Americans and look the other way when they use their money and influence to stop us from 
reforming health care or investing in renewable energy for yet another four years.
Or this time, we can recognize that you can't be the champion of working Americans if you're funded 
by the lobbyists who drown out their voices. We can do what we've done in this campaign, and say 
that we won't take a dime of their money. We can do what I did in Illinois, and in Washington, and 
bring both parties together to rein in their power so we can take our government back. It's our 
choice.
We can be a party that thinks the only way to look tough on national security is to talk, and act, and 
vote like George Bush and John McCain. We can use fear as a tactic, and the threat of terrorism to 
scare up votes.
Or we can decide that real strength is asking the tough questions before we send our troops to fight. 
We can see the threats we face for what they are - a call to rally all Americans and all the world 
against the common challenges of the 21st century - terrorism and nuclear weapons; climate change 
and poverty; genocide and disease. That's what it takes to keep us safe in the world. That's the real 
legacy of Roosevelt and Kennedy and Truman.
We can be a party that says and does whatever it takes to win the next election. We can calculate and 
poll-test our positions and tell everyone exactly what they want to hear.
Or we can be the party that doesn't just focus on how to win but why we should. We can tell 
everyone what they need to hear about the challenges we face. We can seek to regain not just an 
office, but the trust of the American people that their leaders in Washington will tell them the truth. 
That's the choice in this election.
We can be a party of those who only think like we do and only agree with all our positions. We can 
continue to slice and dice this country into Red States and Blue States. We can exploit the divisions 
that exist in our country for pure political gain.
Or this time, we can build on the movement we've started in this campaign - a movement that's 
united Democrats, Independents, and Republicans; a movement of young and old, rich and poor; 
white, black, Hispanic, Asian, and Native American. Because one thing I know from traveling to forty-
six states this campaign season is that we're not as divided as our politics suggests. We may have 
different stories and different backgrounds, but we hold common hopes for the future of this country.
In the end, this election is still our best chance to solve the problems we've been talking about for 
decades - as one nation; as one people. Fourteen months later, that is still what this election is about.
Millions of Americans who believe we can do better - that we must do better - have put us in a 
position to bring about real change. Now it's up to you, Indiana. You can decide whether we're going 
to travel the same worn path, or whether we chart a new course that offers real hope for the future.
During the course of this campaign, we've all learned what my wife reminds me of all the time - that I 
am not a perfect man. And I will not be a perfect President. And so while I will always listen to you, 
and be honest with you, and fight for you every single day for the next for years, I will also ask you to 
be a part of the change that we need. Because in my two decades of public service to this country, I 
have seen time and time again that real change doesn't begin in the halls of Washington, but on the 
streets of America. It doesn't happen from the top-down, it happens from the bottom-up.
I also know that real change has never been easy, and it won't be easy this time either. The status quo 
in Washington will fight harder than they ever have to divide us and distract us with ads and attacks 
from now until November.
But don't ever forget that you have the power to change this country.
You can make this election about how we're going to help those workers in Logansport; how we're 
going to re-train them, and educate them, and make our workforce competitive in a global economy.
You can make this election about how we're going to make health care affordable for that family in 
North Carolina; how we're going to help those families sitting around the kitchen table tonight pay 
their bills and stay in their homes.
You can make this election about how we plan to leave our children and all children a planet that's 
safer and a world that still sees America the same way my father saw it from across the ocean - as a 
beacon of all that is good and all that is possible for all mankind.
It is now our turn to follow in the footsteps of all those generations who sacrificed and struggled and 
faced down the greatest odds to perfect our improbable union. And if we're willing to do what they 
did; if we're willing to shed our cynicism and our doubts and our fears; if we're willing to believe in 
what's possible again; then I believe that we won't just win this primary election, we won't just win 
this election in November, we will change this country, and keep this country's promise alive in the 
twenty-first century. Thank you, and may God Bless the United States of America.
Two hundred and twenty one years ago, in a hall that still stands across the street, a group of men 
gathered and, with these simple words, launched America's improbable experiment in democracy. 
Farmers and scholars; statesmen and patriots who had traveled across an ocean to escape tyranny 
and persecution finally made real their declaration of independence at a Philadelphia convention that 
lasted through the spring of 1787.
The document they produced was eventually signed but ultimately unfinished. It was stained by this 
nation's original sin of slavery, a question that divided the colonies and brought the convention to a 
stalemate until the founders chose to allow the slave trade to continue for at least twenty more 
years, and to leave any final resolution to future generations.
Of course, the answer to the slavery question was already embedded within our Constitution - a 
Constitution that had at is very core the ideal of equal citizenship under the law; a Constitution that 
promised its people liberty, and justice, and a union that could be and should be perfected over time.
And yet words on a parchment would not be enough to deliver slaves from bondage, or provide men 
and women of every color and creed their full rights and obligations as citizens of the United States. 
What would be needed were Americans in successive generations who were willing to do their part - 
through protests and struggle, on the streets and in the courts, through a civil war and civil 
disobedience and always at great risk - to narrow that gap between the promise of our ideals and the 
reality of their time.
This was one of the tasks we set forth at the beginning of this campaign - to continue the long march 
of those who came before us, a march for a more just, more equal, more free, more caring and more 
prosperous America. I chose to run for the presidency at this moment in history because I believe 
deeply that we cannot solve the challenges of our time unless we solve them together - unless we 
perfect our union by understanding that we may have different stories, but we hold common hopes; 
that we may not look the same and we may not have come from the same place, but we all want to 
move in the same direction - towards a better future for our children and our grandchildren.
This belief comes from my unyielding faith in the decency and generosity of the American people. But 
it also comes from my own American story.
I am the son of a black man from Kenya and a white woman from Kansas. I was raised with the help 
of a white grandfather who survived a Depression to serve in Patton's Army during World War II and a 
white grandmother who worked on a bomber assembly line at Fort Leavenworth while he was 
overseas. I've gone to some of the best schools in America and lived in one of the world's poorest 
nations. I am married to a black American who carries within her the blood of slaves and slaveowners 
- an inheritance we pass on to our two precious daughters. I have brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, 
uncles and cousins, of every race and every hue, scattered across three continents, and for as long as 
I live, I will never forget that in no other country on Earth is my story even possible.
It's a story that hasn't made me the most conventional candidate. But it is a story that has seared into 
my genetic makeup the idea that this nation is more than the sum of its parts - that out of many, we 
are truly one.
Throughout the first year of this campaign, against all predictions to the contrary, we saw how hungry 
the American people were for this message of unity. Despite the temptation to view my candidacy 
through a purely racial lens, we won commanding victories in states with some of the whitest 
populations in the country. In South Carolina, where the Confederate Flag still flies, we built a 
powerful coalition of African Americans and white Americans.
This is not to say that race has not been an issue in the campaign. At various stages in the campaign, 
some commentators have deemed me either "too black" or "not black enough." We saw racial 
tensions bubble to the surface during the week before the South Carolina primary. The press has 
scoured every exit poll for the latest evidence of racial polarization, not just in terms of white and 
black, but black and brown as well.
And yet, it has only been in the last couple of weeks that the discussion of race in this campaign has 
taken a particularly divisive turn.
On one end of the spectrum, we've heard the implication that my candidacy is somehow an exercise 
in affirmative action; that it's based solely on the desire of wide-eyed liberals to purchase racial 
reconciliation on the cheap. On the other end, we've heard my former pastor, Reverend Jeremiah 
Wright, use incendiary language to express views that have the potential not only to widen the racial 
divide, but views that denigrate both the greatness and the goodness of our nation; that rightly 
offend white and black alike.
I have already condemned, in unequivocal terms, the statements of Reverend Wright that have 
caused such controversy. For some, nagging questions remain. Did I know him to be an occasionally 
fierce critic of American domestic and foreign policy? Of course. Did I ever hear him make remarks 
that could be considered controversial while I sat in church? Yes. Did I strongly disagree with many of 
his political views? Absolutely - just as I'm sure many of you have heard remarks from your pastors, 
priests, or rabbis with which you strongly disagreed.
But the remarks that have caused this recent firestorm weren't simply controversial. They weren't 
simply a religious leader's effort to speak out against perceived injustice. Instead, they expressed a 
profoundly distorted view of this country - a view that sees white racism as endemic, and that 
elevates what is wrong with America above all that we know is right with America; a view that sees 
the conflicts in the Middle East as rooted primarily in the actions of stalwart allies like Israel, instead 
of emanating from the perverse and hateful ideologies of radical Islam.
As such, Reverend Wright's comments were not only wrong but divisive, divisive at a time when we 
need unity; racially charged at a time when we need to come together to solve a set of monumental 
problems - two wars, a terrorist threat, a falling economy, a chronic health care crisis and potentially 
devastating climate change; problems that are neither black or white or Latino or Asian, but rather 
problems that confront us all.
Given my background, my politics, and my professed values and ideals, there will no doubt be those 
for whom my statements of condemnation are not enough. Why associate myself with Reverend 
Wright in the first place, they may ask? Why not join another church? And I confess that if all that I 
knew of Reverend Wright were the snippets of those sermons that have run in an endless loop on the 
television and You Tube, or if Trinity United Church of Christ conformed to the caricatures being 
peddled by some commentators, there is no doubt that I would react in much the same way
But the truth is, that isn't all that I know of the man. The man I met more than twenty years ago is a 
man who helped introduce me to my Christian faith, a man who spoke to me about our obligations to 
love one another; to care for the sick and lift up the poor. He is a man who served his country as a 
U.S. Marine; who has studied and lectured at some of the finest universities and seminaries in the 
country, and who for over thirty years led a church that serves the community by doing God's work 
here on Earth - by housing the homeless, ministering to the needy, providing day care services and 
scholarships and prison ministries, and reaching out to those suffering from HIV/AIDS.
In my first book, Dreams From My Father, I described the experience of my first service at Trinity:
"People began to shout, to rise from their seats and clap and cry out, a forceful wind carrying the 
reverend's voice up into the rafters....And in that single note - hope! - I heard something else; at the 
foot of that cross, inside the thousands of churches across the city, I imagined the stories of ordinary 
black people merging with the stories of David and Goliath, Moses and Pharaoh, the Christians in the 
lion's den, Ezekiel's field of dry bones. Those stories - of survival, and freedom, and hope - became 
our story, my story; the blood that had spilled was our blood, the tears our tears; until this black 
church, on this bright day, seemed once more a vessel carrying the story of a people into future 
generations and into a larger world. Our trials and triumphs became at once unique and universal, 
black and more than black; in chronicling our journey, the stories and songs gave us a means to 
reclaim memories that we didn't need to feel shame about...memories that all people might study 
and cherish - and with which we could start to rebuild."
That has been my experience at Trinity. Like other predominantly black churches across the country, 
Trinity embodies the black community in its entirety - the doctor and the welfare mom, the model 
student and the former gang-banger. Like other black churches, Trinity's services are full of raucous 
laughter and sometimes bawdy humor. They are full of dancing, clapping, screaming and shouting 
that may seem jarring to the untrained ear. The church contains in full the kindness and cruelty, the 
fierce intelligence and the shocking ignorance, the struggles and successes, the love and yes, the 
bitterness and bias that make up the black experience in America.
And this helps explain, perhaps, my relationship with Reverend Wright. As imperfect as he may be, he 
has been like family to me. He strengthened my faith, officiated my wedding, and baptized my 
children. Not once in my conversations with him have I heard him talk about any ethnic group in 
derogatory terms, or treat whites with whom he interacted with anything but courtesy and respect. 
He contains within him the contradictions - the good and the bad - of the community that he has 
served diligently for so many years.
I can no more disown him than I can disown the black community. I can no more disown him than I 
can my white grandmother - a woman who helped raise me, a woman who sacrificed again and again 
for me, a woman who loves me as much as she loves anything in this world, but a woman who once 
confessed her fear of black men who passed by her on the street, and who on more than one 
occasion has uttered racial or ethnic stereotypes that made me cringe.
These people are a part of me. And they are a part of America, this country that I love.
Some will see this as an attempt to justify or excuse comments that are simply inexcusable. I can 
assure you it is not. I suppose the politically safe thing would be to move on from this episode and 
just hope that it fades into the woodwork. We can dismiss Reverend Wright as a crank or a 
demagogue, just as some have dismissed Geraldine Ferraro, in the aftermath of her recent 
statements, as harboring some deep-seated racial bias.
But race is an issue that I believe this nation cannot afford to ignore right now. We would be making 
the same mistake that Reverend Wright made in his offending sermons about America - to simplify 
and stereotype and amplify the negative to the point that it distorts reality.
The fact is that the comments that have been made and the issues that have surfaced over the last 
few weeks reflect the complexities of race in this country that we've never really worked through - a 
part of our union that we have yet to perfect. And if we walk away now, if we simply retreat into our 
respective corners, we will never be able to come together and solve challenges like health care, or 
education, or the need to find good jobs for every American.
Understanding this reality requires a reminder of how we arrived at this point. As William Faulkner 
once wrote, "The past isn't dead and buried. In fact, it isn't even past." We do not need to recite here 
the history of racial injustice in this country. But we do need to remind ourselves that so many of the 
disparities that exist in the African-American community today can be directly traced to inequalities 
passed on from an earlier generation that suffered under the brutal legacy of slavery and Jim Crow.
Segregated schools were, and are, inferior schools; we still haven't fixed them, fifty years after Brown 
v. Board of Education, and the inferior education they provided, then and now, helps explain the 
pervasive achievement gap between today's black and white students.
Legalized discrimination - where blacks were prevented, often through violence, from owning 
property, or loans were not granted to African-American business owners, or black homeowners 
could not access FHA mortgages, or blacks were excluded from unions, or the police force, or fire 
departments - meant that black families could not amass any meaningful wealth to bequeath to 
future generations. That history helps explain the wealth and income gap between black and white, 
and the concentrated pockets of poverty that persists in so many of today's urban and rural 
communities.
A lack of economic opportunity among black men, and the shame and frustration that came from not 
being able to provide for one's family, contributed to the erosion of black families - a problem that 
welfare policies for many years may have worsened. And the lack of basic services in so many urban 
black neighborhoods - parks for kids to play in, police walking the beat, regular garbage pick-up and 
building code enforcement - all helped create a cycle of violence, blight and neglect that continue to 
haunt us.
This is the reality in which Reverend Wright and other African-Americans of his generation grew up. 
They came of age in the late fifties and early sixties, a time when segregation was still the law of the 
land and opportunity was systematically constricted. What's remarkable is not how many failed in the 
face of discrimination, but rather how many men and women overcame the odds; how many were 
able to make a way out of no way for those like me who would come after them.
But for all those who scratched and clawed their way to get a piece of the American Dream, there 
were many who didn't make it - those who were ultimately defeated, in one way or another, by 
discrimination. That legacy of defeat was passed on to future generations - those young men and 
increasingly young women who we see standing on street corners or languishing in our prisons, 
without hope or prospects for the future. Even for those blacks who did make it, questions of race, 
and racism, continue to define their worldview in fundamental ways. For the men and women of 
Reverend Wright's generation, the memories of humiliation and doubt and fear have not gone away; 
nor has the anger and the bitterness of those years. That anger may not get expressed in public, in 
front of white co-workers or white friends. But it does find voice in the barbershop or around the 
kitchen table. At times, that anger is exploited by politicians, to gin up votes along racial lines, or to 
make up for a politician's own failings.
And occasionally it finds voice in the church on Sunday morning, in the pulpit and in the pews. The 
fact that so many people are surprised to hear that anger in some of Reverend Wright's sermons 
simply reminds us of the old truism that the most segregated hour in American life occurs on Sunday 
morning. That anger is not always productive; indeed, all too often it distracts attention from solving 
real problems; it keeps us from squarely facing our own complicity in our condition, and prevents the 
African-American community from forging the alliances it needs to bring about real change. But the 
anger is real; it is powerful; and to simply wish it away, to condemn it without understanding its roots, 
only serves to widen the chasm of misunderstanding that exists between the races.
In fact, a similar anger exists within segments of the white community. Most working- and middle-
class white Americans don't feel that they have been particularly privileged by their race. Their 
experience is the immigrant experience - as far as they're concerned, no one's handed them 
anything, they've built it from scratch. They've worked hard all their lives, many times only to see 
their jobs shipped overseas or their pension dumped after a lifetime of labor. They are anxious about 
their futures, and feel their dreams slipping away; in an era of stagnant wages and global 
competition, opportunity comes to be seen as a zero sum game, in which your dreams come at my 
expense. So when they are told to bus their children to a school across town; when they hear that an 
African American is getting an advantage in landing a good job or a spot in a good college because of 
an injustice that they themselves never committed; when they're told that their fears about crime in 
urban neighborhoods are somehow prejudiced, resentment builds over time.
Like the anger within the black community, these resentments aren't always expressed in polite 
company. But they have helped shape the political landscape for at least a generation. Anger over 
welfare and affirmative action helped forge the Reagan Coalition. Politicians routinely exploited fears 
of crime for their own electoral ends. Talk show hosts and conservative commentators built entire 
careers unmasking bogus claims of racism while dismissing legitimate discussions of racial injustice 
and inequality as mere political correctness or reverse racism.
Just as black anger often proved counterproductive, so have these white resentments distracted 
attention from the real culprits of the middle class squeeze - a corporate culture rife with inside 
dealing, questionable accounting practices, and short-term greed; a Washington dominated by 
lobbyists and special interests; economic policies that favor the few over the many. And yet, to wish 
away the resentments of white Americans, to label them as misguided or even racist, without 
recognizing they are grounded in legitimate concerns - this too widens the racial divide, and blocks 
the path to understanding.
This is where we are right now. It's a racial stalemate we've been stuck in for years. Contrary to the 
claims of some of my critics, black and white, I have never been so na?ve as to believe that we can get 
beyond our racial divisions in a single election cycle, or with a single candidacy - particularly a 
candidacy as imperfect as my own.
But I have asserted a firm conviction - a conviction rooted in my faith in God and my faith in the 
American people - that working together we can move beyond some of our old racial wounds, and 
that in fact we have no choice if we are to continue on the path of a more perfect union.
For the African-American community, that path means embracing the burdens of our past without 
becoming victims of our past. It means continuing to insist on a full measure of justice in every aspect 
of American life. But it also means binding our particular grievances - for better health care, and 
better schools, and better jobs - to the larger aspirations of all Americans -- the white woman 
struggling to break the glass ceiling, the white man whose been laid off, the immigrant trying to feed 
his family. And it means taking full responsibility for own lives - by demanding more from our fathers, 
and spending more time with our children, and reading to them, and teaching them that while they 
may face challenges and discrimination in their own lives, they must never succumb to despair or 
cynicism; they must always believe that they can write their own destiny.
Ironically, this quintessentially American - and yes, conservative - notion of self-help found frequent 
expression in Reverend Wright's sermons. But what my former pastor too often failed to understand 
is that embarking on a program of self-help also requires a belief that society can change.
The profound mistake of Reverend Wright's sermons is not that he spoke about racism in our society. 
It's that he spoke as if our society was static; as if no progress has been made; as if this country - a 
country that has made it possible for one of his own members to run for the highest office in the land 
and build a coalition of white and black; Latino and Asian, rich and poor, young and old -- is still 
irrevocably bound to a tragic past. But what we know -- what we have seen - is that America can 
change. That is true genius of this nation. What we have already achieved gives us hope - the 
audacity to hope - for what we can and must achieve tomorrow.
In the white community, the path to a more perfect union means acknowledging that what ails the 
African-American community does not just exist in the minds of black people; that the legacy of 
discrimination - and current incidents of discrimination, while less overt than in the past - are real and 
must be addressed. Not just with words, but with deeds - by investing in our schools and our 
communities; by enforcing our civil rights laws and ensuring fairness in our criminal justice system; by 
providing this generation with ladders of opportunity that were unavailable for previous generations. 
It requires all Americans to realize that your dreams do not have to come at the expense of my 
dreams; that investing in the health, welfare, and education of black and brown and white children 
will ultimately help all of America prosper.
In the end, then, what is called for is nothing more, and nothing less, than what all the world's great 
religions demand - that we do unto others as we would have them do unto us. Let us be our brother's 
keeper, Scripture tells us. Let us be our sister's keeper. Let us find that common stake we all have in 
one another, and let our politics reflect that spirit as well.
For we have a choice in this country. We can accept a politics that breeds division, and conflict, and 
cynicism. We can tackle race only as spectacle - as we did in the OJ trial - or in the wake of tragedy, as 
we did in the aftermath of Katrina - or as fodder for the nightly news. We can play Reverend Wright's 
sermons on every channel, every day and talk about them from now until the election, and make the 
only question in this campaign whether or not the American people think that I somehow believe or 
sympathize with his most offensive words. We can pounce on some gaffe by a Hillary supporter as 
evidence that she's playing the race card, or we can speculate on whether white men will all flock to 
John McCain in the general election regardless of his policies.
We can do that.
But if we do, I can tell you that in the next election, we'll be talking about some other distraction. And 
then another one. And then another one. And nothing will change.
That is one option. Or, at this moment, in this election, we can come together and say, "Not this 
time." This time we want to talk about the crumbling schools that are stealing the future of black 
children and white children and Asian children and Hispanic children and Native American children. 
This time we want to reject the cynicism that tells us that these kids can't learn; that those kids who 
don't look like us are somebody else's problem. The children of America are not those kids, they are 
our kids, and we will not let them fall behind in a 21st century economy. Not this time.
This time we want to talk about how the lines in the Emergency Room are filled with whites and 
blacks and Hispanics who do not have health care; who don't have the power on their own to 
overcome the special interests in Washington, but who can take them on if we do it together.
This time we want to talk about the shuttered mills that once provided a decent life for men and 
women of every race, and the homes for sale that once belonged to Americans from every religion, 
every region, every walk of life. This time we want to talk about the fact that the real problem is not 
that someone who doesn't look like you might take your job; it's that the corporation you work for 
will ship it overseas for nothing more than a profit.
This time we want to talk about the men and women of every color and creed who serve together, 
and fight together, and bleed together under the same proud flag. We want to talk about how to 
bring them home from a war that never should've been authorized and never should've been waged, 
and we want to talk about how we'll show our patriotism by caring for them, and their families, and 
giving them the benefits they have earned.
I would not be running for President if I didn't believe with all my heart that this is what the vast 
majority of Americans want for this country. This union may never be perfect, but generation after 
generation has shown that it can always be perfected. And today, whenever I find myself feeling 
doubtful or cynical about this possibility, what gives me the most hope is the next generation - the 
young people whose attitudes and beliefs and openness to change have already made history in this 
election.
There is one story in particularly that I'd like to leave you with today - a story I told when I had the 
great honor of speaking on Dr. King's birthday at his home church, Ebenezer Baptist, in Atlanta.
There is a young, twenty-three year old white woman named Ashley Baia who organized for our 
campaign in Florence, South Carolina. She had been working to organize a mostly African-American 
community since the beginning of this campaign, and one day she was at a roundtable discussion 
where everyone went around telling their story and why they were there.
And Ashley said that when she was nine years old, her mother got cancer. And because she had to 
miss days of work, she was let go and lost her health care. They had to file for bankruptcy, and that's 
when Ashley decided that she had to do something to help her mom.
She knew that food was one of their most expensive costs, and so Ashley convinced her mother that 
what she really liked and really wanted to eat more than anything else was mustard and relish 
sandwiches. Because that was the cheapest way to eat.
She did this for a year until her mom got better, and she told everyone at the roundtable that the 
reason she joined our campaign was so that she could help the millions of other children in the 
country who want and need to help their parents too.
Now Ashley might have made a different choice. Perhaps somebody told her along the way that the 
source of her mother's problems were blacks who were on welfare and too lazy to work, or Hispanics 
who were coming into the country illegally. But she didn't. She sought out allies in her fight against 
injustice.
Anyway, Ashley finishes her story and then goes around the room and asks everyone else why they're 
supporting the campaign. They all have different stories and reasons. Many bring up a specific issue. 
And finally they come to this elderly black man who's been sitting there quietly the entire time. And 
Ashley asks him why he's there. And he does not bring up a specific issue. He does not say health care 
or the economy. He does not say education or the war. He does not say that he was there because of 
Barack Obama. He simply says to everyone in the room, "I am here because of Ashley."
"I'm here because of Ashley." By itself, that single moment of recognition between that young white 
girl and that old black man is not enough. It is not enough to give health care to the sick, or jobs to 
the jobless, or education to our children.
But it is where we start. It is where our union grows stronger. And as so many generations have come 
to realize over the course of the two-hundred and twenty one years since a band of patriots signed 
that document in Philadelphia, that is where the perfection begins.
Well, we are in the middle of a very close race right now in Texas, and we may not even know the 
final results until morning. We do know that Senator Clinton has won Rhode Island, and while there 
are a lot of votes to be counted in Ohio, it looks like she did well there too, and so we congratulate 
her on those states. We also know that we have won the state of Vermont. And we know this - no 
matter what happens tonight, we have nearly the same delegate lead as we did this morning, and we 
are on our way to winning this nomination.
You know, decades ago, as a community organizer, I learned that the real work of democracy begins 
far from the closed doors and marbled halls of Washington.
It begins on street corners and front porches; in living rooms and meeting halls with ordinary 
Americans who see the world as it is and realize that we have it within our power to remake the 
world as it should be.
It is with that hope that we began this unlikely journey - the hope that if we could go block by block, 
city by city, state by state and build a movement that spanned race and region; party and gender; if 
we could give young people a reason to vote and the young at heart a reason to believe again; if we 
could inspire a nation to come together again, then we could turn the page on the politics that's shut 
us out, let us down, and told us to settle. We could write a new chapter in the American story.
We were told this wasn't possible. We were told the climb was too steep. We were told our country 
was too cynical - that we were just being na?ve; that we couldn't really change the world as it is.
But then a few people in Iowa stood up to say, "Yes we can." And then a few more of you stood up 
from the hills of New Hampshire to the coast of South Carolina. And then a few million of you stood 
up from Savannah to Seattle; from Boise to Baton Rouge. And tonight, because of you - because of a 
movement you built that stretches from Vermont's Green Mountains to the streets of San Antonio, 
we can stand up with confidence and clarity to say that we are turning the page, and we are ready to 
write the next great chapter in America's story.
In the coming weeks, we will begin a great debate about the future of this country with a man who 
has served it bravely and loves it dearly. And tonight, I called John McCain and congratulated him on 
winning the Republican nomination.
But in this election, we will offer two very different visions of the America we see in the twenty-first 
century. Because John McCain may claim long history of straight talk and independent-thinking, and I 
respect that. But in this campaign, he's fallen in line behind the very same policies that have ill-served 
America. He has seen where George Bush has taken our country, and he promises to keep us on the 
very same course.
It's the same course that threatens a century of war in Iraq - a third and fourth and fifth tour of duty 
for brave troops who've done all we've asked them to, even while we ask little and expect nothing of 
the Iraqi government whose job it is to put their country back together. A course where we spend 
billions of dollars a week that could be used to rebuild our roads and our schools; to care for our 
veterans and send our children to college.
It's the same course that continues to divide and isolate America from the world by substituting 
bluster and bullying for direct diplomacy - by ignoring our allies and refusing to talk to our enemies 
even though Presidents from Kennedy to Reagan have done just that; because strong countries and 
strong leaders aren't afraid to tell hard truths to petty dictators.
And it's the same course that offers the same tired answer to workers without health care and 
families without homes; to students in debt and children who go to bed hungry in the richest nation 
on Earth - four more years of tax breaks for the biggest corporations and the wealthiest few who 
don't need them and aren't even asking for them. It's a course that further divides Wall Street from 
Main Street; where struggling families are told to pull themselves up by their bootstraps because 
there's nothing government can do or should do - and so we should give more to those with the most 
and let the chips fall where they may.
Well we are here tonight to say that this is not the America we believe in and this is not the future we 
want. We want a new course for this country. We want new leadership in Washington. We want 
change in America.
John McCain and Senator Clinton echo each other in dismissing this call for change. They say it is 
eloquent but empty; speeches and not solutions. And yet, they should know that it's a call that did 
not begin with my words. It began with words that were spoken on the floors of factories in Ohio and 
across the deep plains of Texas; words that came from classrooms in South Carolina and living rooms 
in the state of Iowa; from first-time voters and life-long cynics; from Democrats and Republicans alike.
They should know that there's nothing empty about the call for affordable health care that came 
from the young student who told me she gets three hours of sleep because she works the night shift 
after a full day of college and still can't pay her sister's medical bills.
There's nothing empty about the call for help that came from the mother in San Antonio who saw her 
mortgage double in two weeks and didn't know where her two-year olds would sleep at night when 
they were kicked out of their home.
There's nothing empty about the call for change that came from the elderly woman who wants it so 
badly that she sent me an envelope with a money order for $3.01 and a simple verse of scripture 
tucked inside.
These Americans know that government cannot solve all of our problems, and they don't expect it to. 
Americans know that we have to work harder and study more to compete in a global economy. We 
know that we need to take responsibility for ourselves and our children - that we need to spend more 
time with them, and teach them well, and put a book in their hands instead of a video game once in 
awhile. We know this.
But we also believe that there is a larger responsibility we have to one another as Americans.
We believe that we rise or fall as one nation - as one people. That we are our brother's keeper. That 
we are our sister's keeper.
We believe that a child born tonight should have the same chances whether she arrives in the barrios 
of San Antonio or the suburbs of St. Louis; on the streets of Chicago or the hills of Appalachia.
We believe that when she goes to school for the first time, it should be in a place where the rats don't 
outnumber the computers; that when she applies to college, cost is no barrier to a degree that will 
allow her to compete with children in China or India for the jobs of the twenty-first century.
We believe that these jobs should provide wages that can raise her family, health care for when she 
gets sick and a pension for when she retires.
We believe that when she tucks her own children into bed, she should feel safe knowing that they are 
protected from the threats we face by the bravest, best-equipped, military in the world, led by a 
Commander-in-Chief who has the judgment to know when to send them into battle and which 
battlefield to fight on.
And if that child should ever get the chance to travel the world, and someone should ask her where 
she is from, we believe that she should always be able to hold her head high with pride in her voice 
when she answers "I am an American."
That is the course we seek. That is the change we are calling for. You can call it many things, but you 
cannot call it empty.
If I am the nominee of this party, I will not allow us to be distracted by the same politics that seeks to 
divide us with false charges and meaningless labels. In this campaign, we will not stand for the 
politics that uses religion as a wedge, and patriotism as a bludgeon.
I owe what I am to this country I love, and I will never forget it. Where else could a young man who 
grew up herding goats in Kenya get the chance to fulfill his dream of a college education? Where else 
could he marry a white girl from Kansas whose parents survived war and depression to find 
opportunity out west? Where else could they have a child who would one day have the chance to run 
for the highest office in the greatest nation the world has ever known? Where else, but in the United 
States of America?
It is now my hope and our task to set this country on a course that will keep this promise alive in the 
twenty-first century. And the eyes of the world are watching to see if we can.
There is a young man on my campaign whose grandfather lives in Uganda. He is 81 years old and has 
never experienced true democracy in his lifetime. During the reign of Idi Amin, he was literally hunted 
and the only reason he escaped was thanks to the kindness of others and a few good-sized trunks. 
And on the night of the Iowa caucuses, that 81-year-old man stayed up until five in the morning, 
huddled by his television, waiting for the results.
The world is watching what we do here. The world is paying attention to how we conduct ourselves. 
What will we they see? What will we tell them? What will we show them?
Can we come together across party and region; race and religion to restore prosperity and 
opportunity as the birthright of every American?
Can we lead the community of nations in taking on the common threats of the 21st century - 
terrorism and climate change; genocide and disease?
Can we send a message to all those weary travelers beyond our shores who long to be free from fear 
and want that the United States of America is, and always will be, ‘the last best, hope of Earth?
We say; we hope; we believe - yes we can.
Today, the change we seek swept through the Chesapeake and over the Potomac.
We won the state of Maryland. We won the Commonwealth of Virginia. And though we won in 
Washington D.C., this movement won't stop until there's change in Washington. And tonight, we're 
on our way.
But we know how much farther we have to go.
We know it takes more than one night – or even one election – to overcome decades of money and 
the influence; bitter partisanship and petty bickering that's shut you out, let you down and told you to 
settle.
We know our road will not be easy.
But we also know that at this moment the cynics can no longer say our hope is false.
We have now won east and west, north and south, and across the heartland of this country we love. 
We have given young people a reason to believe, and brought folks back to the polls who want to 
believe again. And we are bringing together Democrats and Independents and Republicans; blacks 
and whites; Latinos and Asians; small states and big states; Red States and Blue States into a United 
States of America.
This is the new American majority. This is what change looks like when it happens from the bottom 
up. And in this election, your voices will be heard.
Because at a time when so many people are struggling to keep up with soaring costs in a sluggish 
economy, we know that the status quo in Washington just won't do. Not this time. Not this year. We 
can't keep playing the same Washington game with the same Washington players and expect a 
different result – because it's a game that ordinary Americans are losing.
It's a game where lobbyists write check after check and Exxon turns record profits, while you pay the 
price at the pump, and our planet is put at risk. That's what happens when lobbyists set the agenda, 
and that's why they won't drown out your voices anymore when I am President of the United States 
of America.
It's a game where trade deals like NAFTA ship jobs overseas and force parents to compete with their 
teenagers to work for minimum wage at Wal-Mart. That's what happens when the American worker 
doesn't have a voice at the negotiating table, when leaders change their positions on trade with the 
politics of the moment, and that's why we need a President who will listen to Main Street – not just 
Wall Street; a President who will stand with workers not just when it's easy, but when it's hard.
It's a game where Democrats and Republicans fail to come together year after year after year, while 
another mother goes without health care for her sick child. That's why we have to put an end to the 
division and distraction in Washington, so that we can unite this nation around a common purpose, a 
higher purpose.
It's a game where the only way for Democrats to look tough on national security is by talking, and 
acting and voting like Bush-McCain Republicans, while our troops are sent to fight tour after tour of 
duty in a war that should've never been authorized and should've never been waged. That's what 
happens when we use 9/11 to scare up votes, and that's why we need to do more than end a war – 
we need to end the mindset that got us into war.
That's the choice in this primary. It's about whether we choose to play the game, or whether we 
choose to end it; it's change that polls well, or change we can believe in; it's the past versus the 
future. And when I'm the Democratic nominee for President – that will be the choice in November.
John McCain is an American hero. We honor his service to our nation. But his priorities don't address 
the real problems of the American people, because they are bound to the failed policies of the past.
George Bush won't be on the ballot this November, but his war and his tax cuts for the wealthy will.
When I am the nominee, I will offer a clear choice. John McCain won't be able to say that I ever 
supported this war in Iraq, because I opposed it from the beginning. Senator McCain said the other 
day that we might be mired for a hundred years in Iraq, which is reason enough to not give him four 
years in the White House.
If we had chosen a different path, the right path, we could have finished the job in Afghanistan, and 
put more resources into the fight against bin Laden; and instead of spending hundreds of billions of 
dollars in Baghdad, we could have put that money into our schools and hospitals, our road and 
bridges – and that's what the American people need us to do right now.
And I admired Senator McCain when he stood up and said that it offended his "conscience" to 
support the Bush tax cuts for the wealthy in a time of war; that he couldn't support a tax cut where 
"so many of the benefits go to the most fortunate." But somewhere along the road to the Republican 
nomination, the Straight Talk Express lost its wheels, because now he's all for them.
Well I'm not. We can't keep spending money that we don't have in a war that we shouldn't have 
fought. We can't keep mortgaging our children's future on a mountain of debt. We can't keep driving 
a wider and wider gap between the few who are rich and the rest who struggle to keep pace. It's time 
to turn the page.
We need a new direction in this country. Everywhere I go, I meet Americans who can't wait another 
day for change. They're not just showing up to hear a speech – they need to know that politics can 
make a difference in their lives, that it's not too late to reclaim the American Dream.
It's a dream shared in big cities and small towns; across races, regions and religions – that if you work 
hard, you can support a family; that if you get sick, there will be health care you can afford; that you 
can retire with the dignity and security and respect that you have earned; that your kids can get a 
good education, and young people can go to college even if they're not rich. That is our common 
hope. That is the American Dream.
It's the dream of the father who goes to work before dawn and lies awake at night wondering how 
he's going to pay the bills. He needs us to restore fairness to our economy by putting a tax cut into 
the pockets of working people, and seniors, and struggling homeowners.
It's the dream of the woman who told me she works the night shift after a full day of college and still 
can't afford health care for a sister who's ill. She needs us to finally come together to make health 
care affordable and available for every American.
It's the dream of the senior I met who lost his pension when the company he gave his life to went 
bankrupt. He doesn't need bankruptcy laws that protect banks and big lenders. He needs us to 
protect pensions, not CEO bonuses; and to do what it takes to make sure that the American people 
can count on Social Security today, tomorrow and forever.
It's the dream of the teacher who works at Dunkin Donuts after school just to make ends meet. She 
needs better pay, and more support, and the freedom to do more than just teach to the test. And if 
her students want to go on to college, they shouldn't fear decades of debt. That's why I'll make 
college affordable with an annual $4,000 tax credit if you're willing to do community service, or 
national service. We will invest in you, but we'll ask you to invest in your country.
That is our calling in this campaign. To reaffirm that fundamental belief – I am my brother's keeper, I 
am my sister's keeper – that makes us one people, and one nation. It's time to stand up and reach for 
what's possible, because together, people who love their country can change it.
Now when I start talking like this, some folks tell me that I've got my head in the clouds. That I need a 
reality check. That we're still offering false hope. But my own story tells me that in the United States 
of America, there has never been anything false about hope.
I should not be here today. I was not born into money or status. I was born to a teenage mom in 
Hawaii, and my dad left us when I was two. But my family gave me love, they gave me education, and 
most of all they gave me hope – hope that in America, no dream is beyond our grasp if we reach for 
it, and fight for it, and work for it.
Because hope is not blind optimism. I know how hard it will be to make these changes. I know this 
because I fought on the streets of Chicago as a community organizer to bring jobs to the jobless in the 
shadow of a shuttered steel plant. I've fought in the courts as a civil rights lawyer to make sure people 
weren't denied their rights because of what they looked like or where they came from. I've fought in 
the legislature to take power away from lobbyists. I've won some of those fights, but I've lost some of 
them too. I've seen good legislation die because good intentions weren't backed by a mandate for 
change.
The politics of hope does not mean hoping things come easy. Because nothing worthwhile in this 
country has ever happened unless somebody, somewhere stood up when it was hard; stood up when 
they were told – no you can't, and said yes we can.
And where better to affirm our ideals than here in Wisconsin, where a century ago the progressive 
movement was born. It was rooted in the principle that the voices of the people can speak louder 
than special interests; that citizens can be connected to their government and to one another; and 
that all of us share a common destiny, an American Dream.
Yes we can reclaim that dream.
Yes we can heal this nation.
The voices of the American people have carried us a great distance on this improbable journey, but 
we have much further to go. Now we carry our message to farms and factories across this state, and 
to the cities and small towns of Ohio, to the open plains deep in the heart of Texas, and all the way to 
Democratic National Convention in Denver; it's the same message we had when we were up, and 
when were down; that out of many, we are one; that our destiny will not be written for us, but by us; 
and that we can cast off our doubts and fears and cynicism because our dream will not be deferred; 
our future will not be denied; and our time for change has come.
Before I begin, I just want to send my condolences to the victims of the storms that hit Tennessee and 
Arkansas. They are in our thoughts and in our prayers.
Well, the polls are just closing in California and the votes are still being counted in cities and towns 
across the country. But there is one thing on this February night that we do not need the final results 
to know - our time has come, our movement is real, and change is coming to America.
Only a few hundred miles from here, almost one year ago to the day, we stood on the steps of the 
Old State Capitol to reaffirm a truth that was spoken there so many generations ago - that a house 
divided cannot stand; that we are more than a collection of Red States and Blue States; we are, and 
always will be, the United States of America.
What began as a whisper in Springfield soon carried across the corn fields of Iowa, where farmers and 
factory workers; students and seniors stood up in numbers we've never seen. They stood up to say 
that maybe this year, we don't have to settle for a politics where scoring points is more important 
than solving problems. This time we can finally do something about health care we can't afford or 
mortgages we can't pay. This time can be different.
Their voices echoed from the hills of New Hampshire to the deserts of Nevada, where teachers and 
cooks and kitchen workers stood up to say that maybe Washington doesn't have to be run by 
lobbyists anymore. They reached the coast of South Carolina when people said that maybe we don't 
have to be divided by race and region and gender; that crumbling schools are stealing the future of 
black children and white children; that we can come together and build an America that gives every 
child, everywhere the opportunity to live their dreams. This time can be different.
And today, on this Tuesday in February, in states North and South, East and West, what began as a 
whisper in Springfield has swelled to a chorus of millions calling for change. A chorus that cannot be 
ignored. That cannot be deterred. This time can be different because this campaign for the 
presidency is different.
It's different not because of me, but because of you. Because you are tired of being disappointed and 
tired of being let down. You're tired of hearing promises made and plans proposed in the heat of a 
campaign only to have nothing change when everyone goes back to Washington. Because the 
lobbyists just write another check. Or because politicians start worrying about how they'll win the 
next election instead of why they should. Or because they focus on who's up and who's down instead 
of who matters.
And while Washington is consumed with the same drama and division and distraction, another family 
puts up a For Sale sign in the front yard. Another factory shuts its doors. Another soldier waves 
goodbye as he leaves on another tour of duty in a war that should've never been authorized and 
never been waged. It goes on and on and on.
But in this election - at this moment - you are standing up all across this country to say, not this time. 
Not this year. The stakes are too high and the challenges too great to play the same Washington game 
with the same Washington players and expect a different result. This time must be different.
Now, this isn't about me and it's not about Senator Clinton. As I've said before, she was a friend 
before this campaign and she'll be a friend after it's over. I respect her as a colleague, and I 
congratulate her on her victories tonight.
But this fall we owe the American people a real choice. It's change versus more of the same. It's the 
future versus the past.
It's a choice between going into this election with Republicans and Independents already united 
against us, or going against their nominee with a campaign that has united Americans of all parties 
around a common purpose.
It's a choice between having a debate with the other party about who has the most experience in 
Washington, or having one about who's most likely to change Washington. Because that's a debate 
we can win.
It's a choice between a candidate who's taken more money from Washington lobbyists than either 
Republican in this race, and a campaign that hasn't taken a dime of their money because we've been 
funded by you.
And if I am your nominee, my opponent will not be able to say that I voted for the war in Iraq; or that 
I gave George Bush the benefit of the doubt on Iran; or that I support the Bush-Cheney policy of not 
talking to leaders we don't like. And he will not be able to say that I wavered on something as 
fundamental as whether or not it's ok for America to use torture - because it is never ok. That is the 
choice in this election.
The Republicans running for President have already tied themselves to the past. They speak of a 
hundred year war in Iraq and billions more on tax breaks for the wealthiest few who don't need them 
and didn't ask for them - tax breaks that mortgage our children's future on a mountain of debt at a 
time when there are families who can't pay their medical bills and students who can't pay their 
tuition.
They are running on the politics of yesterday, and that is why our party must be the party of 
tomorrow. And that is the party I will lead as President.
I'll be the President who ends the tax breaks to companies that ship our jobs overseas and start 
putting them in the pockets of working Americans who deserve it. And struggling homeowners. And 
seniors who should retire with dignity and respect.
I'll be the President who finally brings Democrats and Republicans together to make health care 
affordable and available for every single American. We will put a college education within reach of 
anyone who wants to go, and instead of just talking about how great our teachers are, we will reward 
them for their greatness, with more pay and better support. And we will harnesses the ingenuity of 
farmers and scientists and entrepreneurs to free this nation from the tyranny of oil once and for all.
And when I am President, we will put an end to a politics that uses 9/11 as a way to scare up votes, 
and start seeing it as a challenge that should unite America and the world against the common 
threats of the twenty-first century: terrorism and nuclear weapons; climate change and poverty; 
genocide and disease.
We can do this. It will not be easy. It will require struggle and sacrifice. There will setbacks and we will 
make mistakes. And that is why we need all the help we can get. So tonight I want to speak directly to 
all those Americans who have yet to join this movement but still hunger for change - we need you. 
We need you to stand with us, and work with us, and help us prove that together, ordinary people 
can still do extraordinary things.
I am blessed to be standing in the city where my own extraordinary journey began. A few miles from 
here, in the shadow of a shuttered steel plant, is where I learned what it takes to make change 
happen.
I was a young organizer then, intent on fighting joblessness and poverty on the South Side, and I still 
remember one of the very first meetings I put together. We had worked on it for days, but no one 
showed up. Our volunteers felt so defeated, they wanted to quit. And to be honest, so did I.
But at that moment, I looked outside and saw some young boys tossing stones at a boarded-up 
apartment building across the street. They were like boys in so many cities across the country - boys 
without prospects, without guidance, without hope. And I turned to the volunteers, and I asked 
them, "Before you quit, I want you to answer one question. What will happen to those boys?" And 
the volunteers looked out that window, and they decided that night to keep going - to keep 
organizing, keep fighting for better schools, and better jobs, and better health care. And so did I. And 
slowly, but surely, in the weeks and months to come, the community began to change.
You see, the challenges we face will not be solved with one meeting in one night. Change will not 
come if we wait for some other person or some other time.
We are the ones we've been waiting for. We are the change that we seek. We are the hope of those 
boys who have little; who've been told that they cannot have what they dream; that they cannot be 
what they imagine.
Yes they can.
We are the hope of the father who goes to work before dawn and lies awake with doubts that tell 
him he cannot give his children the same opportunities that someone gave him.
Yes he can.
We are the hope of the woman who hears that her city will not be rebuilt; that she cannot reclaim 
the life that was swept away in a terrible storm.
Yes she can.
We are the hope of the future; the answer to the cynics who tell us our house must stand divided; 
that we cannot come together; that we cannot remake this world as it should be.
Because we know what we have seen and what we believe - that what began as a whisper has now 
swelled to a chorus that cannot be ignored; that will not be deterred; that will ring out across this 
land as a hymn that will heal this nation, repair this world, and make this time different than all the 
rest - Yes. We. Can.
Before I begin, I just want to send my condolences to the victims of the storms that hit Tennessee and 
Arkansas. They are in our thoughts and in our prayers.
Well, the polls are just closing in California and the votes are still being counted in cities and towns 
across the country. But there is one thing on this February night that we do not need the final results 
to know - our time has come, our movement is real, and change is coming to America.
Only a few hundred miles from here, almost one year ago to the day, we stood on the steps of the 
Old State Capitol to reaffirm a truth that was spoken there so many generations ago - that a house 
divided cannot stand; that we are more than a collection of Red States and Blue States; we are, and 
always will be, the United States of America.
What began as a whisper in Springfield soon carried across the corn fields of Iowa, where farmers and 
factory workers; students and seniors stood up in numbers we've never seen. They stood up to say 
that maybe this year, we don't have to settle for a politics where scoring points is more important 
than solving problems. This time we can finally do something about health care we can't afford or 
mortgages we can't pay. This time can be different.
Their voices echoed from the hills of New Hampshire to the deserts of Nevada, where teachers and 
cooks and kitchen workers stood up to say that maybe Washington doesn't have to be run by 
lobbyists anymore. They reached the coast of South Carolina when people said that maybe we don't 
have to be divided by race and region and gender; that crumbling schools are stealing the future of 
black children and white children; that we can come together and build an America that gives every 
child, everywhere the opportunity to live their dreams. This time can be different.
And today, on this Tuesday in February, in states North and South, East and West, what began as a 
whisper in Springfield has swelled to a chorus of millions calling for change. A chorus that cannot be 
ignored. That cannot be deterred. This time can be different because this campaign for the 
presidency is different.
It's different not because of me, but because of you. Because you are tired of being disappointed and 
tired of being let down. You're tired of hearing promises made and plans proposed in the heat of a 
campaign only to have nothing change when everyone goes back to Washington. Because the 
lobbyists just write another check. Or because politicians start worrying about how they'll win the 
next election instead of why they should. Or because they focus on who's up and who's down instead 
of who matters.
And while Washington is consumed with the same drama and division and distraction, another family 
puts up a For Sale sign in the front yard. Another factory shuts its doors. Another soldier waves 
goodbye as he leaves on another tour of duty in a war that should've never been authorized and 
never been waged. It goes on and on and on.
But in this election - at this moment - you are standing up all across this country to say, not this time. 
Not this year. The stakes are too high and the challenges too great to play the same Washington game 
with the same Washington players and expect a different result. This time must be different.
Now, this isn't about me and it's not about Senator Clinton. As I've said before, she was a friend 
before this campaign and she'll be a friend after it's over. I respect her as a colleague, and I 
congratulate her on her victories tonight.
But this fall we owe the American people a real choice. It's change versus more of the same. It's the 
future versus the past.
It's a choice between going into this election with Republicans and Independents already united 
against us, or going against their nominee with a campaign that has united Americans of all parties 
around a common purpose.
It's a choice between having a debate with the other party about who has the most experience in 
Washington, or having one about who's most likely to change Washington. Because that's a debate 
we can win.
It's a choice between a candidate who's taken more money from Washington lobbyists than either 
Republican in this race, and a campaign that hasn't taken a dime of their money because we've been 
funded by you.
And if I am your nominee, my opponent will not be able to say that I voted for the war in Iraq; or that 
I gave George Bush the benefit of the doubt on Iran; or that I support the Bush-Cheney policy of not 
talking to leaders we don't like. And he will not be able to say that I wavered on something as 
fundamental as whether or not it's ok for America to use torture - because it is never ok. That is the 
choice in this election.
The Republicans running for President have already tied themselves to the past. They speak of a 
hundred year war in Iraq and billions more on tax breaks for the wealthiest few who don't need them 
and didn't ask for them - tax breaks that mortgage our children's future on a mountain of debt at a 
time when there are families who can't pay their medical bills and students who can't pay their 
tuition.
They are running on the politics of yesterday, and that is why our party must be the party of 
tomorrow. And that is the party I will lead as President.
I'll be the President who ends the tax breaks to companies that ship our jobs overseas and start 
putting them in the pockets of working Americans who deserve it. And struggling homeowners. And 
seniors who should retire with dignity and respect.
I'll be the President who finally brings Democrats and Republicans together to make health care 
affordable and available for every single American. We will put a college education within reach of 
anyone who wants to go, and instead of just talking about how great our teachers are, we will reward 
them for their greatness, with more pay and better support. And we will harnesses the ingenuity of 
farmers and scientists and entrepreneurs to free this nation from the tyranny of oil once and for all.
And when I am President, we will put an end to a politics that uses 9/11 as a way to scare up votes, 
and start seeing it as a challenge that should unite America and the world against the common 
threats of the twenty-first century: terrorism and nuclear weapons; climate change and poverty; 
genocide and disease.
We can do this. It will not be easy. It will require struggle and sacrifice. There will setbacks and we will 
make mistakes. And that is why we need all the help we can get. So tonight I want to speak directly to 
all those Americans who have yet to join this movement but still hunger for change - we need you. 
We need you to stand with us, and work with us, and help us prove that together, ordinary people 
can still do extraordinary things.
I am blessed to be standing in the city where my own extraordinary journey began. A few miles from 
here, in the shadow of a shuttered steel plant, is where I learned what it takes to make change 
happen.
I was a young organizer then, intent on fighting joblessness and poverty on the South Side, and I still 
remember one of the very first meetings I put together. We had worked on it for days, but no one 
showed up. Our volunteers felt so defeated, they wanted to quit. And to be honest, so did I.
But at that moment, I looked outside and saw some young boys tossing stones at a boarded-up 
apartment building across the street. They were like boys in so many cities across the country - boys 
without prospects, without guidance, without hope. And I turned to the volunteers, and I asked 
them, "Before you quit, I want you to answer one question. What will happen to those boys?" And 
the volunteers looked out that window, and they decided that night to keep going - to keep 
organizing, keep fighting for better schools, and better jobs, and better health care. And so did I. And 
slowly, but surely, in the weeks and months to come, the community began to change.
You see, the challenges we face will not be solved with one meeting in one night. Change will not 
come if we wait for some other person or some other time.
We are the ones we've been waiting for. We are the change that we seek. We are the hope of those 
boys who have little; who've been told that they cannot have what they dream; that they cannot be 
what they imagine.
Yes they can.
We are the hope of the father who goes to work before dawn and lies awake with doubts that tell 
him he cannot give his children the same opportunities that someone gave him.
Yes he can.
We are the hope of the woman who hears that her city will not be rebuilt; that she cannot reclaim 
the life that was swept away in a terrible storm.
Yes she can.
We are the hope of the future; the answer to the cynics who tell us our house must stand divided; 
that we cannot come together; that we cannot remake this world as it should be.
Because we know what we have seen and what we believe - that what began as a whisper has now 
swelled to a chorus that cannot be ignored; that will not be deterred; that will ring out across this 
land as a hymn that will heal this nation, repair this world, and make this time different than all the 
rest - Yes. We. Can.
It has now been a little over two months since we began this campaign. In that time we have traveled 
all across this country. And before every event we do, I usually have a minute to sit quietly and collect 
my thoughts. And recently, I’ve found myself reflecting on what it was that led me to public service in 
the first place.
I live in Chicago now, but I am not a native of that great city. I moved there when I was just a year out 
of college, and a group of churches offered me a job as a community organizer so I could help rebuild 
neighborhoods that had been devastated by the closing of steel plants.
The salary was $12,000 a year plus enough money to buy an old, beat-up car, and so I took the job 
and drove out to Chicago, where I didn’t know a soul. And during the time I was there, we worked to 
set up job training programs for the unemployed and after school programs for kids.
And it was the best education I ever had, because I learned in those neighborhoods that when 
ordinary people come together, they can achieve extraordinary things.
After three years, I went back to law school. I left there with a degree and a lifetime of debt, but I 
turned down the corporate job offers so I could come back to Chicago and organize a voter 
registration drive. I also started a civil rights practice, and began to teach constitutional law.
And after a few years, people started coming up to me and telling me I should run for state Senate. So 
I did what every man does when he’s faced with a big decision – I prayed, and I asked my wife. And 
after consulting those two higher powers, I decided to get in the race.
And everywhere I’d go, I’d get two questions. First, they’d ask, “Where’d you get that funny name, 
Barack Obama?” Because people just couldn’t pronounce it. They’d call me “Alabama,” or they’d call 
me “Yo Mama.” And I’d tell them that my father was from Kenya, and that’s where I got my name. 
And my mother was from Kansas, and that’s where I got my accent from.
And the second thing people would ask me was, “You seem like a nice young man. You’ve done all 
this great work. You’ve been a community organizer, and you teach law school, you’re a civil rights 
attorney, you’re a family man – why would you wanna go into something dirty and nasty like 
politics?”
And I understand the question, and the cynicism. We all understand it.
We understand it because we get the sense today that politics has become a business and not a 
mission. In the last several years, we have seen Washington become a place where keeping score of 
who’s up and who’s down is more important than who’s working on behalf of the American people.
We have been told that our mounting debts don’t matter, that the economy is doing great, and so 
Americans should be left to face their anxiety about rising health care costs and disappearing 
pensions on their own.
We’ve been told that climate change is a hoax, that our broken schools cannot be fixed, that we are 
destined to send millions of dollars a day to Mideast dictators for their oil. And we’ve seen how a 
foreign policy based on bluster and bombast can lead us into a war that should’ve never been 
authorized and never been waged.
And when we try to have an honest debate about the crises we face, whether it’s on the Senate floor 
or a Sunday talk show, the conversation isn’t about finding common ground, it’s about finding 
someone to blame. We’re divided into Red States and Blue States, and told to always point the finger 
at somebody else – the other party, or gay people, or immigrants.
For good reason, the rest of us have become cynical about what politics can achieve in this country, 
and as we’ve turned away in frustration, we know what’s filled the void. The lobbyists and influence-
peddlers with the cash and the connections – the ones who’ve turned government into a game only 
they can afford to play.
They write the checks and you get stuck with the bills, they get the access while you get to write a 
letter, they think they own this government, but we’re here to tell them it’s not for sale. People tell 
me I haven’t spent a lot of time learning the ways of Washington. But I promise you this – I’ve been 
there long enough to know that the ways of Washington must change. I’m running for President 
because the time for the can’t-do, won’t-do, won’t-even-try style of politics is over. It’s time to turn 
the page. There is an awakening taking place in America today. From New Hampshire to California, 
from Texas to Iowa, we are seeing crowds we’ve never seen before; we’re seeing people showing up 
to the very first political event of their lives.
They’re coming because they know we are at a crossroads right now. Because we are facing a set of 
challenges we haven’t seen in a generation – and if we don’t meet those challenges, we could end up 
leaving our children a world that’s a little poorer and a little meaner than we found it.
And so the American people are hungry for a different kind of politics – the kind of politics based on 
the ideals this country was founded upon. The idea that we are all connected as one people. That we 
all have a stake in one another.
It’s what I learned as a state Senator in Illinois. That you can turn the page on old debates; that it’s 
possible to compromise so long as you as you never compromise your principles; and that so long as 
we’re willing to listen to each other, we can assume the best in people instead of the worst.
That’s how we were able to reform a death penalty system that sent 13 innocent people to death 
row. That’s how we were able to give health insurance to 20,000 more children who needed it. That’s 
how we gave $100 million worth of tax cuts to working families in Illinois. And that’s how we passed 
the first ethics reform in twenty-five years.
We have seen too many campaigns where our problems are talked to death. Where ten-point plans 
are crushed under the weight of the same old politics once the election’s over. Where experience in 
Washington doesn’t always translate to results for the American people.
And so if we do not change our politics – if we do not fundamentally change the way Washington 
works – then the problems we’ve been talking about for the last generation will be the same ones 
that haunt us for generations to come.
We must find a way to come together in this country – to realize that the responsibility we have to 
one another as Americans is greater than the pursuit of any ideological agenda or corporate bottom 
line. Democrats of California, it’s time to turn the page.
It’s time to turn the page on health care – to bring together unions and businesses, Democrats and 
Republicans, and to let the insurance and drug companies know that while they get a seat at the 
table, they don’t get to buy every chair.
When I am president, I will sign a universal health care law by the end of my first term. My plan will 
cover the uninsured by letting people buy into the same kind of health care plan that members of 
Congress give themselves. It will bring down costs by investing in information technology, and 
preventative care, and by stopping the drug companies from price-gouging when patients need their 
medicine.
It will help business and families shoulder the burden of catastrophic care so that an illness doesn’t 
lead to a bankruptcy. And it will save the average family a thousand dollars a year on their premiums. 
We can do this.
It’s time to turn the page on education – to move past the slow decay of indifference that says some 
schools can’t be fixed and some kids just can’t learn.
As President, I will launch a campaign to recruit and support hundreds of thousands of new teachers 
across the country, because the most important part of any education is the person standing in the 
front of the classroom. It’s time to treat teaching like the profession it is – paying teachers what they 
deserve and working with them – not against them – to develop the high standards we need. We can 
do this.
It’s time to turn the page on energy – to break the political stalemate that’s kept our fuel efficiency 
standards in the same place for twenty years; to tell the oil and auto industries that they must act, 
not only because their future’s at stake, but because the future of our country and our planet is at 
stake as well.
As President, I will institute a cap-and-trade system that would dramatically reduce carbon emissions 
and auction off emissions credits that would generate millions of dollars to invest in renewable 
sources of energy. I’ll put in place a low-carbon fuel standard like you have here in California that will 
take 32 million cars’ worth of pollution off the road. And I’d raise the fuel efficiency standards for our 
cars and trucks because we know we have the technology to do it and it’s time we did. We can do 
this.
We can do all of this. But most of all, we have to turn the page on this disaster in Iraq and restore our 
standing in the world. I am proud that I stood up in 2002 and urged our leaders not to take us down 
this dangerous path. And so many of you did the same, even when it wasn’t popular to do so.
We knew back then this war was a mistake. We knew back then that it was dangerous diversion from 
the struggle against the terrorists who attacked us on September 11th. We knew back then that we 
could find ourselves in an occupation of undetermined length, at undetermined cost, with 
undetermined consequences.
But the war went forward. And now, we’ve seen those consequences and we mourn for the dead and 
wounded.
I was in New Hampshire the other week when a woman told me that her nephew was leaving for 
Iraq. And as she started telling me how much she’d miss him and how worried she was about him, 
she began to cry.
And she said to me, “I can’t breathe. I want to know, when am I going to be able to breathe again?”
It is time to let this woman know she can breathe again. It is time to put an end this war.
The majority of both houses of the American Congress – Republicans and Democrats – just passed a 
bill that would do exactly that. It’s a bill similar to the plan I introduced in January that says there is 
no military solution to this civil war – that the last, best hope to pressure the warring factions to 
reach a political settlement is to let the Iraqi government know that America will not be there forever 
– to begin a phased withdrawal with the goal of bringing all combat brigades home by March 31st, 
2008.
We are one signature away from ending this war. If the President refuses to sign it, we will go back 
and find the sixteen votes we need to end this war without him. We will turn up the pressure on all 
those Republican Congressmen and Senators who refuse to acknowledge the reality that the 
American people know so well, and we will get this done. We will bring our troops home. It’s time to 
turn the page.
It’s time to show the world that America is still the last, best hope of Earth. This President may occupy 
the White House, but for the last six years the position of leader of the free world has remained 
open. It’s time to fill that role once more. Whether it’s terrorism or climate change, global AIDS or the 
spread of weapons of mass destruction, America cannot meet the threats of this new century alone, 
but the world cannot meet them without America. It’s time for us to lead.
It’s time for us to show the world that we are not a country that ships prisoners in the dead of night 
to be tortured in far off countries. That we are not a country that runs prisons which lock people 
away without ever telling them why they are there or what they are charged with. We are not a 
country which preaches compassion to others while we allow bodies to float down the streets of a 
major American city.
That is not who we are.
We are America. We are the nation that liberated a continent from a madman, that lifted ourselves 
from the depths of Depression, that won Civil Rights, and Women’s Rights, and Voting Rights for all 
our people. We are the beacon that has led generations of weary travelers to find opportunity, and 
liberty, and hope on our doorstep. That’s who we are.
I was down in Selma, Alabama awhile back, and we were celebrating the 42nd anniversary of the 
march across the Edmund Pettus Bridge. It was a march of ordinary Americans – maids and cooks, 
preachers and Pullman porters who faced down fire hoses and dogs, tear gas and billy clubs when 
they tried to get to the other side. But every time they were stopped, every time they were knocked 
down, they got back up, they came back, and they kept on marching. And finally they crossed over. It 
was called Bloody Sunday, and it was the culmination of the Civil Rights Movement.
When I came back from that celebration, people would say, oh, what a wonderful celebration of 
African-American history that must have been. And I would say, no, that wasn’t African-American 
history. That was a celebration of American history – it’s our story.
And it reminds us of a simple truth – a truth I learned all those years ago as an organizer in Chicago – 
a truth you carry by being here today – that in the face of impossible odds, people who love their 
country can change it.
I am confident about my ability to lead this country. But I also know that I can’t do it without you. 
There will be times when I get tired, there will be times when I make a mistake – it’s true, talk to my 
wife, she’ll tell you. But this campaign that we’re running has to be about your hopes, and your 
dreams, and what you will do. Because there are few obstacles that can withstand the power of 
millions of voices calling for change.
That’s how change has always happened – not from the top-down, but from the bottom-up.
And that’s exactly how you and I will change this country. California, if you want a new kind of 
politics, it’s time to turn the page.
If you want an end to the old divisions, and the stale debates, and the score-keeping and the name-
calling, it’s time to turn the page.
If you want health care for every American and a world-class education for all our children; if you 
want energy independence and an end to this war in Iraq; if you believe America is still that last, best 
hope of Earth, then it’s time to turn the page.
It’s time to turn the page for hope. It’s time to turn the page for justice. It is time to turn the page and 
write the next chapter in the great American story. Let’s begin the work. Let’s do this together. Let’s 
turn that page. Thank you.
Let me begin by saying thanks to all you who've traveled, from far and wide, to brave the cold today. 
 
We all made this journey for a reason. It's humbling, but in my heart I know you didn't come here just 
for me, you came here because you believe in what this country can be. In the face of war, you 
believe there can be peace. In the face of despair, you believe there can be hope. In the face of a 
politics that's shut you out, that's told you to settle, that's divided us for too long, you believe we can 
be one people, reaching for what's possible, building that more perfect union.
That's the journey we're on today. But let me tell you how I came to be here. As most of you know, I 
am not a native of this great state. I moved to Illinois over two decades ago. I was a young man then, 
just a year out of college; I knew no one in Chicago, was without money or family connections. But a 
group of churches had offered me a job as a community organizer for $13,000 a year. And I accepted 
the job, sight unseen, motivated then by a single, simple, powerful idea - that I might play a small 
part in building a better America.
My work took me to some of Chicago's poorest neighborhoods. I joined with pastors and lay-people 
to deal with communities that had been ravaged by plant closings. I saw that the problems people 
faced weren't simply local in nature - that the decision to close a steel mill was made by distant 
executives; that the lack of textbooks and computers in schools could be traced to the skewed 
priorities of politicians a thousand miles away; and that when a child turns to violence, there's a hole 
in his heart no government could ever fill.
It was in these neighborhoods that I received the best education I ever had, and where I learned the 
true meaning of my Christian faith.
After three years of this work, I went to law school, because I wanted to understand how the law 
should work for those in need. I became a civil rights lawyer, and taught constitutional law, and after 
a time, I came to understand that our cherished rights of liberty and equality depend on the active 
participation of an awakened electorate. It was with these ideas in mind that I arrived in this capital 
city as a state Senator.
It was here, in Springfield, where I saw all that is America converge - farmers and teachers, 
businessmen and laborers, all of them with a story to tell, all of them seeking a seat at the table, all of 
them clamoring to be heard. I made lasting friendships here - friends that I see in the audience today.
It was here we learned to disagree without being disagreeable - that it's possible to compromise so 
long as you know those principles that can never be compromised; and that so long as we're willing 
to listen to each other, we can assume the best in people instead of the worst.
That's why we were able to reform a death penalty system that was broken. That's why we were able 
to give health insurance to children in need. That's why we made the tax system more fair and just for 
working families, and that's why we passed ethics reforms that the cynics said could never, ever be 
passed.
It was here, in Springfield, where North, South, East and West come together that I was reminded of 
the essential decency of the American people - where I came to believe that through this decency, we 
can build a more hopeful America.
And that is why, in the shadow of the Old State Capitol, where Lincoln once called on a divided house 
to stand together, where common hopes and common dreams still, I stand before you today to 
announce my candidacy for President of the United States.
I recognize there is a certain presumptuousness - a certain audacity - to this announcement. I know I 
haven't spent a lot of time learning the ways of Washington. But I've been there long enough to know 
that the ways of Washington must change.
The genius of our founders is that they designed a system of government that can be changed. And 
we should take heart, because we've changed this country before. In the face of tyranny, a band of 
patriots brought an Empire to its knees. In the face of secession, we unified a nation and set the 
captives free. In the face of Depression, we put people back to work and lifted millions out of poverty. 
We welcomed immigrants to our shores, we opened railroads to the west, we landed a man on the 
moon, and we heard a King's call to let justice roll down like water, and righteousness like a mighty 
stream.
Each and every time, a new generation has risen up and done what's needed to be done. Today we 
are called once more - and it is time for our generation to answer that call.
For that is our unyielding faith - that in the face of impossible odds, people who love their country 
can change it.
That's what Abraham Lincoln understood. He had his doubts. He had his defeats. He had his setbacks. 
But through his will and his words, he moved a nation and helped free a people. It is because of the 
millions who rallied to his cause that we are no longer divided, North and South, slave and free. It is 
because men and women of every race, from every walk of life, continued to march for freedom long 
after Lincoln was laid to rest, that today we have the chance to face the challenges of this millennium 
together, as one people - as Americans.
All of us know what those challenges are today - a war with no end, a dependence on oil that 
threatens our future, schools where too many children aren't learning, and families struggling 
paycheck to paycheck despite working as hard as they can. We know the challenges. We've heard 
them. We've talked about them for years.
What's stopped us from meeting these challenges is not the absence of sound policies and sensible 
plans. What's stopped us is the failure of leadership, the smallness of our politics - the ease with 
which we're distracted by the petty and trivial, our chronic avoidance of tough decisions, our 
preference for scoring cheap political points instead of rolling up our sleeves and building a working 
consensus to tackle big problems.
For the last six years we've been told that our mounting debts don't matter, we've been told that the 
anxiety Americans feel about rising health care costs and stagnant wages are an illusion, we've been 
told that climate change is a hoax, and that tough talk and an ill-conceived war can replace 
diplomacy, and strategy, and foresight. And when all else fails, when Katrina happens, or the death 
toll in Iraq mounts, we've been told that our crises are somebody else's fault. We're distracted from 
our real failures, and told to blame the other party, or gay people, or immigrants.
And as people have looked away in disillusionment and frustration, we know what's filled the void. 
The cynics, and the lobbyists, and the special interests who've turned our government into a game 
only they can afford to play. They write the checks and you get stuck with the bills, they get the 
access while you get to write a letter, they think they own this government, but we're here today to 
take it back. The time for that politics is over. It's time to turn the page.
We've made some progress already. I was proud to help lead the fight in Congress that led to the 
most sweeping ethics reform since Watergate.
But Washington has a long way to go. And it won't be easy. That's why we'll have to set priorities. 
We'll have to make hard choices. And although government will play a crucial role in bringing about 
the changes we need, more money and programs alone will not get us where we need to go. Each of 
us, in our own lives, will have to accept responsibility - for instilling an ethic of achievement in our 
children, for adapting to a more competitive economy, for strengthening our communities, and 
sharing some measure of sacrifice. So let us begin. Let us begin this hard work together. Let us 
transform this nation.
Let us be the generation that reshapes our economy to compete in the digital age. Let's set high 
standards for our schools and give them the resources they need to succeed. Let's recruit a new army 
of teachers, and give them better pay and more support in exchange for more accountability. Let's 
make college more affordable, and let's invest in scientific research, and let's lay down broadband 
lines through the heart of inner cities and rural towns all across America.
And as our economy changes, let's be the generation that ensures our nation's workers are sharing in 
our prosperity. Let's protect the hard-earned benefits their companies have promised. Let's make it 
possible for hardworking Americans to save for retirement. And let's allow our unions and their 
organizers to lift up this country's middle-class again.
Let's be the generation that ends poverty in America. Every single person willing to work should be 
able to get job training that leads to a job, and earn a living wage that can pay the bills, and afford 
child care so their kids have a safe place to go when they work. Let's do this.
Let's be the generation that finally tackles our health care crisis. We can control costs by focusing on 
prevention, by providing better treatment to the chronically ill, and using technology to cut the 
bureaucracy. Let's be the generation that says right here, right now, that we will have universal health 
care in America by the end of the next president's first term.
Let's be the generation that finally frees America from the tyranny of oil. We can harness 
homegrown, alternative fuels like ethanol and spur the production of more fuel-efficient cars. We can 
set up a system for capping greenhouse gases. We can turn this crisis of global warming into a 
moment of opportunity for innovation, and job creation, and an incentive for businesses that will 
serve as a model for the world. Let's be the generation that makes future generations proud of what 
we did here.
Most of all, let's be the generation that never forgets what happened on that September day and 
confront the terrorists with everything we've got. Politics doesn't have to divide us on this anymore - 
we can work together to keep our country safe. I've worked with Republican Senator Dick Lugar to 
pass a law that will secure and destroy some of the world's deadliest, unguarded weapons. We can 
work together to track terrorists down with a stronger military, we can tighten the net around their 
finances, and we can improve our intelligence capabilities. But let us also understand that ultimate 
victory against our enemies will come only by rebuilding our alliances and exporting those ideals that 
bring hope and opportunity to millions around the globe.
But all of this cannot come to pass until we bring an end to this war in Iraq. Most of you know I 
opposed this war from the start. I thought it was a tragic mistake. Today we grieve for the families 
who have lost loved ones, the hearts that have been broken, and the young lives that could have 
been. America, it's time to start bringing our troops home. It's time to admit that no amount of 
American lives can resolve the political disagreement that lies at the heart of someone else's civil war. 
That's why I have a plan that will bring our combat troops home by March of 2008. Letting the Iraqis 
know that we will not be there forever is our last, best hope to pressure the Sunni and Shia to come 
to the table and find peace.
Finally, there is one other thing that is not too late to get right about this war - and that is the 
homecoming of the men and women - our veterans - who have sacrificed the most. Let us honor their 
valor by providing the care they need and rebuilding the military they love. Let us be the generation 
that begins this work.
I know there are those who don't believe we can do all these things. I understand the skepticism. 
After all, every four years, candidates from both parties make similar promises, and I expect this year 
will be no different. All of us running for president will travel around the country offering ten-point 
plans and making grand speeches; all of us will trumpet those qualities we believe make us uniquely 
qualified to lead the country. But too many times, after the election is over, and the confetti is swept 
away, all those promises fade from memory, and the lobbyists and the special interests move in, and 
people turn away, disappointed as before, left to struggle on their own.
That is why this campaign can't only be about me. It must be about us - it must be about what we can 
do together. This campaign must be the occasion, the vehicle, of your hopes, and your dreams. It will 
take your time, your energy, and your advice - to push us forward when we're doing right, and to let 
us know when we're not. This campaign has to be about reclaiming the meaning of citizenship, 
restoring our sense of common purpose, and realizing that few obstacles can withstand the power of 
millions of voices calling for change.
By ourselves, this change will not happen. Divided, we are bound to fail.
But the life of a tall, gangly, self-made Springfield lawyer tells us that a different future is possible.
He tells us that there is power in words.
He tells us that there is power in conviction.
That beneath all the differences of race and region, faith and station, we are one people.
He tells us that there is power in hope.
As Lincoln organized the forces arrayed against slavery, he was heard to say: "Of strange, discordant, 
and even hostile elements, we gathered from the four winds, and formed and fought to battle 
through."
That is our purpose here today.
That's why I'm in this race.
Not just to hold an office, but to gather with you to transform a nation.
I want to win that next battle - for justice and opportunity.
I want to win that next battle - for better schools, and better jobs, and health care for all.
I want us to take up the unfinished business of perfecting our union, and building a better America.
And if you will join me in this improbable quest, if you feel destiny calling, and see as I see, a future of 
endless possibility stretching before us; if you sense, as I sense, that the time is now to shake off our 
slumber, and slough off our fear, and make good on the debt we owe past and future generations, 
then I'm ready to take up the cause, and march with you, and work with you. Together, starting today, 
let us finish the work that needs to be done, and usher in a new birth of freedom on this Earth.