Remarks of Senator Barack Obam (As Delivery)
Selma Voting Rights March
Commemoration, Brown Chapel A.M.E Church
Selma, Alabama
March 4, 2007
Here today, I must begin because at the Unity breakfast this
morning I was saving for last and the list was so long I left him out after
that introduction. So IÕm going to start by saying how much I appreciate the
friendship and the support and the outstanding work that he does each and every
day, not just in Capitol Hill but also back here in the district. Please give a
warm round of applause for your Congressman Artur Davis.
It is a great honor to be here. Reverend Jackson, thank you
so much. To the family of Brown A.M.E, to the good Bishop Kirkland, thank you
for your wonderful message and your leadership.
I want to acknowledge one of the great heroes of American
history and American life, somebody who captures the essence of decency and
courage, somebody who I have admired all my life and were it not for him, IÕm
not sure IÕd be here today, Congressman John Lewis.
IÕm thankful to him. To all the distinguished guests and
clergy, IÕm not sure IÕm going to thank Reverend Lowery because he stole the
show. I was mentioning earlier, I know we've got C.T. Vivian in the audience,
and when you have to speak in front of somebody who Martin Luther King said was
the greatest preacher he ever heard, then you've got some problems.
And IÕm a little nervous about following so many great
preachers. But IÕm hoping that the spirit moves me and to all my colleagues who
have given me such a warm welcome, thank you very much for allowing me to speak
to you here today.
You know, several weeks ago, after I had announced that I
was running for the Presidency of the United States, I stood in front of the
Old State Capitol in Springfield, Illinois; where Abraham Lincoln delivered his
speech declaring, drawing in scripture, that a house divided against itself
could not stand.
And I stood and I announced that I was running for the
presidency. And there were a lot of commentators, as they are prone to do, who
questioned the audacity of a young man like myself, haven't been in Washington
too long.
And I acknowledge that there is a certain presumptuousness
about this.
But I got a letter from a friend of some of yours named
Reverend Otis Moss Jr. in Cleveland, and his son, Otis Moss III is the Pastor
at my church and I must send greetings from Dr. Jeremiah A. Wright Jr. but I
got a letter giving me encouragement and saying how proud he was that I had
announced and encouraging me to stay true to my ideals and my values and not to
be fearful.
And he said, if there's some folks out there who are
questioning whether or not you should run, just tell them to look at the story
of Joshua because you're part of the Joshua generation.
So I just want to talk a little about Moses and Aaron and
Joshua, because we are in the presence today of a lot of Moseses. We're in the
presence today of giants whose shoulders we stand on, people who battled, not
just on behalf of African Americans but on behalf of all of America; that
battled for AmericaÕs soul, that shed blood , that endured taunts and formant
and in some cases gave -- torment and in some cases gave the full measure of
their devotion.
Like Moses, they challenged Pharaoh, the princes, powers who
said that some are atop and others are at the bottom, and that's how it's
always going to be.
There were people like Anna Cooper and Marie Foster and
Jimmy Lee Jackson and Maurice Olette, C.T. Vivian, Reverend Lowery, John Lewis,
who said we can imagine something different and we know there is something out
there for us, too.
Thank God, He's made us in His image and we reject the
notion that we will for the rest of our lives be confined to a station of
inferiority, that we can't aspire to the highest of heights, that our talents
can't be expressed to their fullest. And so because of what they endured,
because of what they marched; they led a people out of bondage.
They took them across the sea that folks thought could not
be parted. They wandered through a desert but always knowing that God was with
them and that, if they maintained that trust in God, that they would be all
right. And it's because they marched that the next generation hasn't been
bloodied so much.
It's because they marched that we elected councilmen,
congressmen. It is because they marched that we have Artur Davis and Keith
Ellison. It is because they marched that I got the kind of education I got, a
law degree, a seat in the Illinois senate and ultimately in the United States
senate.
It is because they marched that i stand before you here today.
I was mentioning at the Unity Breakfast this morning, my -- at the Unity
Breakfast this morning that my debt is even greater than that because not only
is my career the result of the work of the men and women who we honor here
today. My very existence might not have been possible had it not been for some
of the folks here today. I mentioned at the Unity Breakfast that a lot of
people been asking, well, you know, your father was from Africa, your mother,
she's a white woman from Kansas. IÕm not sure that you have the same
experience.
And I tried to explain, you don't understand. You see, my
Grandfather was a cook to the British in Kenya. Grew up in a small village and
all his life, that's all he was -- a cook and a house boy. And that's what they
called him, even when he was 60 years old. They called him a house boy. They
wouldn't call him by his last name.
Sound familiar?
He had to carry a passbook around because Africans in their
own land, in their own country, at that time, because it was a British colony,
could not move about freely. They could only go where they were told to go.
They could only work where they were told to work.
Yet something happened back here in Selma, Alabama.
Something happened in Birmingham that sent out what Bobby Kennedy called,
ÒRipples of hope all around the world.Ó Something happened when a bunch of
women decided they were going to walk instead of ride the bus after a long day
of doing somebody else's laundry, looking after somebody else's children. When
men who had PhDÕs decided that's enough and weÕre going to stand up for our
dignity. That sent a shout across oceans so that my grandfather began to
imagine something different for his son. His son, who grew up herding goats in
a small village in Africa could suddenly set his sights a little higher and
believe that maybe a black man in this world had a chance.
What happened in Selma, Alabama and Birmingham also stirred
the conscience of the nation. It worried folks in the White House who said,
ÒYou know, we're battling Communism. How are we going to win hearts and minds
all across the world? If right here in our own country, John, we're not
observing the ideals set fort in our Constitution, we might be accused of being
hypocrites.Ó So the KennedyÕs decided we're going to do an air lift. We're
going to go to Africa and start bringing young Africans over to this country
and give them scholarships to study so they can learn what a wonderful country
America is.
This young man named Barack Obama got one of those tickets
and came over to this country. He met this woman whose great
great-great-great-grandfather had owned slaves; but she had a good idea there
was some craziness going on because they looked at each other and they decided
that we know that the world as it has been it might not be possible for us to
get together and have a child. There was something stirring across the country
because of what happened in Selma, Alabama, because some folks are willing to
march across a bridge. So they got together and Barack Obama Jr. was born. So
don't tell me I don't have a claim on Selma, Alabama. Don't tell me IÕm not
coming home to Selma, Alabama.
IÕm here because somebody marched. IÕm here because you all
sacrificed for me. I stand on the shoulders of giants. I thank the Moses generation;
but we've got to remember, now, that Joshua still had a job to do. As great as
Moses was, despite all that he did, leading a people out of bondage, he didn't
cross over the river to see the Promised Land. God told him your job is done.
You'll see it. You'll be at the mountain top and you can see what IÕve
promised. What IÕve promised to Abraham and Isaac and Jacob. You will see that
IÕve fulfilled that promise but you won't go there.
We're going to leave it to the Joshua generation to make
sure it happens. There are still battles that need to be fought; some rivers
that need to be crossed. Like Moses, the task was passed on to those who might
not have been as deserving, might not have been as courageous, find themselves
in front of the risks that their parents and grandparents and great
grandparents had taken. That doesn't mean that they don't still have a burden
to shoulder, that they don't have some responsibilities. The previous generation,
the Moses generation, pointed the way. They took us 90% of the way there. We
still got that 10% in order to cross over to the other side. So the question, I
guess, that I have today is what's called of us in this Joshua generation? What
do we do in order to fulfill that legacy; to fulfill the obligations and the
debt that we owe to those who allowed us to be here today?
Now, I don't think we could ever fully repay that debt. I
think that we're always going to be looking back; but, there are at least a few
suggestions that I would have in terms of how we might fulfill that enormous
legacy. The first is to recognize our history. John Lewis talked about why
we're here today. But I worry sometimes -- we've got black history month, we
come down and march every year, once a year, we occasionally celebrate the
various events of the civil rights movement, we celebrate Dr. Kings birthday
but it strikes me that understanding our history and knowing what it means is
an everyday activity.
Now, I don't think we could ever fully repay that debt. I
think that we're always going to be looking back, but there are at least a few
suggestions that I would have in terms of how we might fulfill that enormous
legacy. The first is to recognize our history. John Lewis talked about why
we're here today. But I worry sometimes -- we've got black history month, we
come down and march every year, once a year. We occasionally celebrate the
various events of the Civil Rights Movement, we celebrate Dr. King's birthday,
but it strikes me that understanding our history and knowing what it means, is
an everyday activity.
Moses told the Joshua generation; don't forget where you
came from. I worry sometimes, that the Joshua generation in its success forgets
where it came from. Thinks it doesn't have to make as many sacrifices. Thinks
that the very height of ambition is to make as much money as you can, to drive
the biggest car and have the biggest house and wear a Rolex watch and get your
own private jet, get some of that Oprah money. And I think that's a good thing.
There's nothing wrong with making money, but if you know your history, then you
know that there is a certain poverty of ambition involved in simply striving
just for money. Materialism alone will not fulfill the possibilities of your
existence. You have to fill that with something else. You have to fill it with
the golden rule. You've got to fill it with thinking about others. And if we
know our history, then we will understand that that is the highest mark of
service.
Second thing that the Joshua generation needs to understand
is that the principles of equality that were set fort and were battled for have
to be fought each and every day. It is not a one-time thing. I was remarking at
the unity breakfast on the fact that the single most significant concern that
this justice department under this administration has had with respect to
discrimination has to do with affirmative action. That they have basically
spent all their time worrying about colleges and universities around the country
that are given a little break to young African Americans and Hispanics to make
sure that they can go to college, too.
I had a school in southern Illinois that set up a program
for PhDÕs in math and science for African Americans. And the reason they had
set it up is because we only had less than 1% of the PhDÕs in science and math
go to African Americans. At a time when we are competing in a global economy,
when we're not competing just against folks in North Carolina or Florida or
California, we're competing against folks in China and India and we need math
and science majors, this university thought this might be a nice thing to do.
And the justice department wrote them a letter saying we are going to threaten
to sue you for reverse discrimination unless you cease this program.
And it reminds us that we still got a lot of work to do, and
that the basic enforcement of anti-discrimination laws, the injustice that
still exists within our criminal justice system, the disparity in terms of how
people are treated in this country continues. It has gotten better. And we
should never deny that it's gotten better. But we shouldn't forget that better
is not good enough. That until we have absolute equality in this country in
terms of people being treated on the basis of their color or their gender, that
that is something that we've got to continue to work on and the Joshua
generation has a significant task in making that happen.
Third thing -- we've got to recognize that we fought for
civil rights, but we've still got a lot of economic rights that have to be
dealt with. We've got 46 million people uninsured in this country despite
spending more money on health care than any nation on earth. It makes no sense.
As a consequence, we've got what's known as a health care disparity in this
nation because many of the uninsured are African American or Latino. Life
expectancy is lower. Almost every disease is higher within minority
communities. The health care gap.
Blacks are less likely in their schools to have adequate
funding. We have less-qualified teachers in those schools. We have fewer
textbooks in those schools. We got in some schools rats outnumbering computers.
That's called the achievement gap. You've got a health care gap and you've got
an achievement gap. You've got Katrina still undone. I went down to New Orleans
three weeks ago. It still looks bombed out. Still not rebuilt. When 9/11
happened, the federal government had a special program of grants to help
rebuild. They waived any requirement that Manhattan would have to pay 10% of
the cost of rebuilding. When Hurricane Andrew happened in Florida, 10%
requirement, they waived it because they understood that some disasters are so
devastating that we can't expect a community to rebuild. New Orleans -- the largest
national catastrophe in our history, the federal government says where's your
10%?
There is an empathy gap. There is a gap in terms of
sympathizing for the folks in New Orleans. It's not a gap that the American
people felt because we saw how they responded. But somehow our government
didn't respond with that same sense of compassion, with that same sense of
kindness. And here is the worst part, the tragedy in New Orleans happened well
before the hurricane struck because many of those communities, there were so
many young men in prison, so many kids dropping out, so little hope.
A hope gap. A hope gap that still pervades too many
communities all across the country and right here in Alabama. So the question
is, then, what are we, the Joshua generation, doing to close those gaps? Are we
doing every single thing that we can do in Congress in order to make sure that
early education is adequately funded and making sure that we are raising the
minimum wage so people can have dignity and respect?
Are we ensuring that, if somebody loses a job, that they're
getting retrained? And that, if they've lost their health care and pension,
somebody is there to help them get back on their feet? Are we making sure we're
giving a second chance to those who have strayed and gone to prison but want to
start a new life? Government alone can't solve all those problems, but
government can help. ItÕs the responsibility of the Joshua generation to make
sure that we have a government that is as responsive as the need that exists all
across America. That brings me to one other point, about the Joshua generation,
and that is this -- that it's not enough just to ask what the government can do
for us-- it's important for us to ask what we can do for ourselves.
One of the signature aspects of the civil rights movement
was the degree of discipline and fortitude that was instilled in all the people
who participated. Imagine young people, 16, 17, 20, 21, backs straight, eyes
clear, suit and tie, sitting down at a lunch counter knowing somebody is going
to spill milk on you but you have the discipline to understand that you are not
going to retaliate because in showing the world how disciplined we were as a
people, we were able to win over the conscience of the nation. I can't say for
certain that we have instilled that same sense of moral clarity and purpose in
this generation. Bishop, sometimes I feel like we've lost it a little bit.
I'm fighting to make sure that our schools are adequately
funded all across the country. With the inequities of relying on property taxes
and people who are born in wealthy districts getting better schools than folks
born in poor districts and that's now how it's supposed to be. That's not the
American way. but I'll tell you what -- even as I fight on behalf of more
education funding, more equity, I have to also say that , if parents don't turn
off the television set when the child comes home from school and make sure they
sit down and do their homework and go talk to the teachers and find out how
they're doing, and if we don't start instilling a sense in our young children
that there is nothing to be ashamed about in educational achievement, I don't
know who taught them that reading and writing and conjugating your verbs was
something white.
We've got to get over that mentality. That is part of what
the Moses generation teaches us, not saying to ourselves we can't do something,
but telling ourselves that we can achieve. We can do that. We got power in our
hands. Folks are complaining about the quality of our government, I understand
there's something to be complaining about. I'm in Washington. I see what's
going on. I see those powers and principalities have snuck back in there, that
they're writing the energy bills and the drug laws.
We understand that, but I'll tell you what. I also know
that, if cousin Pookie would vote, get off the couch and register some folks
and go to the polls, we might have a different kind of politics. That's what
the Moses generation teaches us. Take off your bedroom slippers. Put on your
marching shoes. Go do some politics. Change this country! That's what we need.
We have too many children in poverty in this country and everybody should be
ashamed, but don't tell me it doesn't have a little to do with the fact that we
got too many daddies not acting like daddies. DonÕt think that fatherhood ends
at conception. I know something about that because my father wasn't around when
I was young and I struggled.
Those of you who read my book know. I went through some
difficult times. I know what it means when you don't have a strong male figure
in the house, which is why the hardest thing about me being in politics
sometimes is not being home as much as I'd like and I'm just blessed that I've
got such a wonderful wife at home to hold things together. DonÕt tell me that
we can't do better by our children, that we can't take more responsibility for
making sure we're instilling in them the values and the ideals that the Moses
generation taught us about sacrifice and dignity and honesty and hard work and
discipline and self-sacrifice. That comes from us. We've got to transmit that
to the next generation and I guess the point that I'm making is that the civil
rights movement wasn't just a fight against the oppressor; it was also a fight
against the oppressor in each of us.
Sometimes it's easy to just point at somebody else and say
it's their fault, but oppression has a way of creeping into it. Reverend, it
has a way of stunting yourself. You start telling yourself, Bishop, I can't do
something. I can't read. I can't go to college. I can't start a business. I
can't run for Congress. I can't run for the presidency. People start telling
you-- you can't do something, after a while, you start believing it and part of
what the civil rights movement was about was recognizing that we have to
transform ourselves in order to transform the world. Mahatma Gandhi, great hero
of Dr. King and the person who helped create the nonviolent movement around the
world; he once said that you can't change the world if you haven't changed.
If you want to change the world, the change has to happen
with you first and that is something that the greatest and most honorable of
generations has taught us, but the final thing that I think the Moses
generation teaches us is to remind ourselves that we do what we do because God
is with us. You know, when Moses was first called to lead people out of the
Promised Land, he said I don't think I can do it, Lord. I don't speak like
Reverend Lowery. I don't feel brave and courageous and the Lord said I will be
with you. Throw down that rod. Pick it back up. I'll show you what to do. The
same thing happened with the Joshua generation.
Joshua said, you know, I'm scared. I'm not sure that I am up
to the challenge, the Lord said to him, every place that the sole of your foot
will tread upon, I have given you. Be strong and have courage, for I am with
you wherever you go. Be strong and have courage. It's a prayer for a journey. A
prayer that kept a woman in her seat when the bus driver told her to get up, a
prayer that led nine children through the doors of the little rock school, a
prayer that carried our brothers and sisters over a bridge right here in Selma,
Alabama. Be strong and have courage.
When you see row and row of state trooper facing you, the
horses and the tear gas, how else can you walk? Towards them, unarmed,
unafraid. When they come start beating your friends and neighbors, how else can
you simply kneel down, bow your head and ask the Lord for salvation? When you
see heads gashed open and eyes burning and children lying hurt on the side of
the road, when you are John Lewis and you've been beaten within an inch of your
life on Sunday, how do you wake up Monday and keep on marching?
Be strong and have courage, for I am with you wherever you
go. We've come a long way in this journey, but we still have a long way to
travel. We traveled because God was with us. It's not how far we've come. That
bridge outside was crossed by blacks and whites, northerners and southerners, teenagers
and children, the beloved community of God's children, they wanted to take
those steps together, but it was left to the JoshuaÕs to finish the journey
Moses had begun and today we're called to be the JoshuaÕs of our time, to be
the generation that finds our way across this river.
There will be days when the water seems wide and the journey
too far, but in those moments, we must remember that throughout our history,
there has been a running thread of ideals that have guided our travels and
pushed us forward, even when they're just beyond our reach, liberty in the face
of tyranny, opportunity where there was none and hope over the most crushing
despair. Those ideals and values beckon us still and when we have our doubts
and our fears, just like Joshua did, when the road looks too long and it seems
like we may lose our way, remember what these people did on that bridge.
Keep in your heart the prayer of that journey, the prayer
that God gave to Joshua. Be strong and have courage in the face of injustice.
Be strong and have courage in the face of prejudice and hatred, in the face of
joblessness and helplessness and hopelessness. Be strong and have courage,
brothers and sisters, those who are gathered here today, in the face of our
doubts and fears, in the face of skepticism, in the face of cynicism, in the
face of a mighty river.
Be strong and have courage and let us cross over that
Promised Land together. Thank you so much everybody.
God bless you.