Transcription
A belief in the intrinsic dignity and worth of all people. And that no one is above the law or beneath its protection. A belief in checks and balances in our government and an accountability that comes with it. An independent judiciary and a robust free press. A belief that our military and law enforcement owe allegiance not to any president or political party, but to the people and our constitution. A belief in the peaceful transfer of power after the people have spoken in fair and free elections, recognizing that in a large complicated society like ours, no group or faction gets its way 100% of the time. And a belief that qualities of character, honesty, integrity, kindness, compassion, a sense of duty and honor, those things matter in our public dealings just as they do in our private lives.
These are not that these are the values and traditions I believe in. And they are not Republican or Democratic values. They're American values we can all share regardless of party. Values every president here today, as different as we are, has tried our best to uphold. Values that John McCain and Mitt Romney believed in no less than I did. It is our greatest inheritance. The story of America at its best because it reflects a basic faith in the decency of our fellow citizens. And the possibility that despite all of our differences, we can see each other and understand one another and make common cause together.
That's what I hope every visitor to this center takes away from their experience. And that's why if you come for a day and you don't have time to see everything, I would urge you to skip the clips of my speeches. You have heard them all before. In favor of the stories of those ordinary citizens who helped make that change happen. The cancer survivor who feared rising premiums would force her out of her home and was brave enough to speak out about it. She's why we pushed so hard for health care reform. The small business owner trying to keep the lights on. The teenage girl who told me she was worried her dad might lose his job in the auto crisis. They're why we focused so relentlessly relentlessly on pulling our economy back from the Great Recession. The wounded warrior overcoming debilitating injuries. The gay Air Force major serving her country even when forced to hide who she was. They're why we worked to end don't ask, don't tell and care for those who worn our country's uniform and do right by our military families. It's their voices that led to our successes.
And while going through the exhibits, I'd also ask you listen to the voices of people around the world who've been inspired by American ideals. Yes, America has made its share of foreign policy mistakes. Our actions have not always matched our rhetoric. We've learned that we can't solve every conflict or solve or stop every atrocity around the globe. But at our best, the United States has been an undeniable force for good in the world. And what I heard on every continent as president is that when America when American foreign policy lives up to our highest ideals, when we champion human rights and democracy and the sound stewardship of our planet, when we take the lead in eradicating disease and feeding the hungry, and educating children, when we encourage cooperation between nations, instead of trying to dominate and bully and squeeze every advantage just because we can, and and most of all, when we show through our example here at home that even a country as big and diverse as ours can make democracy work, it turns out all nations, including ours, become more prosperous and secure. And the world gets a little bit brighter.
I recognize it's been almost a decade since I left office. In that time, we have lived through more war and a terrible pandemic, economic disruptions, mass protests, backlash against mass protests, political conflicts that have shaken the very foundation of our democracy. We've witnessed a technological revolution that promises remarkable discoveries, could revolutionize medicine, but is also accelerating inequality. That puts all the world's information in the palm of our hands, but somehow makes it harder for us to tell a truth from a lie. That connects us instantly like never before, even as it makes us more distrustful, and more withdrawn, and more fearful, and more isolated from each other. It's a lot. For millions of people in this country and around the world, the future feels uncertain, the ground unstable beneath our feet. And as algorithms keep feeding us a steady stream of distraction and outrage, as only the loudest, most extreme voices get attention, fanning our prejudices, appealing to our basest, most tribal instincts. It's tempting to give in to cynicism and even despair, to stop trying. We start thinking that appeals to democracy and civic participation are corny and old-fashioned and boring and naive. That the very idea of working on behalf of the common good is a sucker's bet. And that in order for us to win somebody else has got to lose. I get it. I am not immune to anger or doubt.
But I do know this. When we lose faith in each other when we stop believing that voting matters, that citizenship matters that our collective voices matter that how we treat each other no longer matters then we give away our power to decide our own futures. We open the door to the most ruthless or the most careless or the most fearful among us who see some groups and some people as more equal than others and see government as nothing more than a way to divvy up the spoils and punish enemies and keep those who are different in their place. I do not believe that is the story of America that prevails in the end. I don't believe it because for us to give up for us to give in now after all this country's been through to cynicism and division would be a betrayal of our founding ideas. A betrayal of our faith. And I remain convinced that the overwhelming majority of Americans feel the same way. That as unsettled as we are, people aren't looking for perpetual anger and division. They are looking for fairness and common sense and mutual respect. That deep in our gut, we want to find a way to turn towards each other again, not further away.
I believe this because I've seen it. All across our country. In cities that have worked together to reclaim their streets from crime. In rural communities that have rebuilt their economy. In businesses that are finding new ways to make housing affordable. And those ordinary people in the Twin Cities who brave frigid temperatures, risk their own safety, standing shoulder to shoulder to look out for their neighbors and sometimes look out for strangers because they knew that was the right thing to do. I've seen it. And I've seen it in a new generation of leaders. Here and around the world. Like Puneeha and Addison. Leaders who are determined to make our governments and our economies and our societies work for everyone. Obama Foundation leaders like Hannah. A Food Corps member from rural Ohio who's helping ensure every child has access to at least one nourishing meal. Or George, an entrepreneur who whose non-profit helps get unused, unexpired medicine, often at no cost, to people who need it. Or Zuzana, a human rights lawyer in Poland who's won more than 30 landmark cases. There are thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands of these young people out there. Making a difference right now. And this center is devoted to lifting up their stories. Giving them the tools and support they need to expand their impact. For while our work is non-partisan, we are not values neutral. We have a point of view. The exhibits in this center are not meant to evoke nostalgia for some gauzy bygone era. Some unattainable past that we can dream about and say, "Oh, we miss you, Barack." They're meant They're meant to remind us of who we can be. To remind us of what's possible. So we can forge ahead, clear-eyed and confident, and do the work that's still needs to be done. We can learn from the past, but America's story isn't frozen in the past. It has chapters yet to be written. Not by one person or a few people, not by Barack and Michelle, or anybody with a fancy title or a high office, but by all of us.
You know, uh one of the things a lot of presidential libraries now have in common is a replica of the Oval Office. And if you take a peek at the one inside this building, you will see some objects that carried some special meaning for me during the time that I was in office. There's a program that a friend from the South Side gave me that he had retrieved from the 1963 March on Washington. He was there. There's a Norman Rockwell painting of the Statue of Liberty with workers hanging on ropes burnishing the torch that she holds aloft. And on the rug, you'll read words from some of America's greatest leaders, including a quote that inspired that arch that you see right there at the south end of the plaza by Martin Perry. The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice. It's a quote that was often invoked by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., but it originally comes from a Boston minister's sermon more than 170 years ago. And at the time, the abolitionist cause seemed lost. The Compromise of 1850 had made harboring fugitive slaves a crime under federal law, even if even in those states that had abolished slavery. And in a case that garnered national attention, a young fugitive in Boston had been seized and tried and marched to the wharf by hundreds of armed officers where he was summarily put on a ship bound for the south where he would remain in shackles and chains. It was a moment of profound uncertainty and despair. A moment the minister called darker than any New England had witnessed. We do not see Reverend Theodore Parker observed that justice is always done on earth. Many a knave is rich, sleek, and honored. While the just man is poor hated and in torment. I do not pretend the preacher said, to understand the moral universe. The arc is a long one. My eye reaches but little ways. I cannot calculate the curve and complete the figure by the experience of sight. I can divine it by conscience. But from what I see, I am sure it bends towards justice.
The good reverend was under no illusions about the perils and obstacles facing the abolitionist cause. His words offered no easy answers, no comforting assurances that he or his congregation would live to see the progress they so desperately sought. Rather, his was a declaration of faith. A defiant call not to abandon hope or give way to fear, but to stay true to our better selves and true to one another. And to keep fighting to fulfill the promise of this nation even in the face of cruelty and bitter disappointment. Even in the face of impossible odds. It is that spirit that we open this center today. The same spirit that so many of you showed all those years ago. The same spirit that inspired generations of Americans to meet the challenges of their time. The same spirit that is alive and well here on the South Side of Chicago. Same spirit that will see America and the world through its present trials. There is a new generation out there ready to write the next chapter of our story. We intend to help them do it. And we ask that you join us. Thank you. God bless you.