Good evening, everyone. It's a
hard time, and everyone's feeling it in different ways. And I know a
lot of folks are reluctant to tune into a political convention right now
or to politics in general. Believe me, I get that. But I am here
tonight because I love this country with all my heart, and it pains me
to see so many people hurting.
I've
met so many of you. I've heard your stories. And through you, I have
seen this country's promise. And thanks to so many who came before me,
thanks to their toil and sweat and blood, I've been able to live that
promise myself.
That's the story of
America. All those folks who sacrificed and overcame so much in their
own times because they wanted something more, something better for their
kids.
There's a lot of beauty in
that story. There's a lot of pain in it, too, a lot of struggle and
injustice and work left to do. And who we choose as our president in
this election will determine whether or not we honor that struggle and
chip away at that injustice and keep alive the very possibility of
finishing that work.
I
am one of a handful of people living today who have seen firsthand the
immense weight and awesome power of the presidency. And let me once
again tell you this: the job is hard. It requires clear-headed judgment,
a mastery of complex and competing issues, a devotion to facts and
history, a moral compass, and an ability to listen—and an abiding belief
that each of the 330,000,000 lives in this country has meaning and
worth.
A president's words have the
power to move markets. They can start wars or broker peace. They can
summon our better angels or awaken our worst instincts. You simply
cannot fake your way through this job.
As
I've said before, being president doesn't change who you are; it
reveals who you are. Well, a presidential election can reveal who we
are, too. And four years ago, too many people chose to believe that
their votes didn't matter. Maybe they were fed up. Maybe they thought
the outcome wouldn't be close. Maybe the barriers felt too steep.
Whatever the reason, in the end, those choices sent someone to the Oval
Office who lost the national popular vote by nearly 3,000,000 votes.
In
one of the states that determined the outcome, the winning margin
averaged out to just two votes per precinct—two votes. And we've all
been living with the consequences.
When
my husband left office with Joe Biden at his side, we had a
record-breaking stretch of job creation. We'd secured the right to
health care for 20,000,000 people. We were respected around the world,
rallying our allies to confront climate change. And our leaders had
worked hand-in-hand with scientists to help prevent an Ebola outbreak
from becoming a global pandemic.
Four
years later, the state of this nation is very different. More than
150,000 people have died, and our economy is in shambles because of a
virus that this president downplayed for too long. It has left millions
of people jobless. Too many have lost their health care; too many are
struggling to take care of basic necessities like food and rent; too
many communities have been left in the lurch to grapple with whether and
how to open our schools safely. Internationally, we've turned our back,
not just on agreements forged by my husband, but on alliances
championed by presidents like Reagan and Eisenhower.
And
here at home, as George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and a never-ending list
of innocent people of color continue to be murdered, stating the simple
fact that a Black life matters is still met with derision from the
nation's highest office.
Because
whenever we look to this White House for some leadership or consolation
or any semblance of steadiness, what we get instead is chaos, division,
and a total and utter lack of empathy.
Empathy:
that's something I've been thinking a lot about lately. The ability to
walk in someone else's shoes; the recognition that someone else's
experience has value, too. Most of us practice this without a second
thought. If we see someone suffering or struggling, we don't stand in
judgment. We reach out because, "There, but for the grace of God, go I."
It is not a hard concept to grasp. It's what we teach our children.
And
like so many of you, Barack and I have tried our best to instill in our
girls a strong moral foundation to carry forward the values that our
parents and grandparents poured into us. But right now, kids in this
country are seeing what happens when we stop requiring empathy of one
another. They're looking around wondering if we've been lying to them
this whole time about who we are and what we truly value.
They
see people shouting in grocery stores, unwilling to wear a mask to keep
us all safe. They see people calling the police on folks minding their
own business just because of the color of their skin. They see an
entitlement that says only certain people belong here, that greed is
good, and winning is everything because as long as you come out on top,
it doesn't matter what happens to everyone else. And they see what
happens when that lack of empathy is ginned up into outright disdain.
They
see our leaders labeling fellow citizens enemies of the state while
emboldening torch-bearing white supremacists. They watch in horror as
children are torn from their families and thrown into cages, and pepper
spray and rubber bullets are used on peaceful protestors for a photo-op.
Sadly,
this is the America that is on display for the next generation. A
nation that's underperforming not simply on matters of policy but on
matters of character. And that's not just disappointing; it's downright
infuriating, because I know the goodness and the grace that is out there
in households and neighborhoods all across this nation.
And
I know that regardless of our race, age, religion, or politics, when we
close out the noise and the fear and truly open our hearts, we know
that what's going on in this country is just not right. This is not who
we want to be.
So what do we do
now? What's our strategy? Over the past four years, a lot of people have
asked me, "When others are going so low, does going high still really
work?" My answer: going high is the only thing that works, because when
we go low, when we use those same tactics of degrading and dehumanizing
others, we just become part of the ugly noise that's drowning out
everything else. We degrade ourselves. We degrade the very causes for
which we fight.
But let's be clear:
going high does not mean putting on a smile and saying nice things when
confronted by viciousness and cruelty. Going high means taking the
harder path. It means scraping and clawing our way to that mountain top.
Going high means standing fierce against hatred while remembering that
we are one nation under God, and if we want to survive, we've got to
find a way to live together and work together across our differences.
And
going high means unlocking the shackles of lies and mistrust with the
only thing that can truly set us free: the cold hard truth.
So
let me be as honest and clear as I possibly can. Donald Trump is the
wrong president for our country. He has had more than enough time to
prove that he can do the job, but he is clearly in over his head. He
cannot meet this moment. He simply cannot be who we need him to be for
us. It is what it is.
Now, I
understand that my message won't be heard by some people. We live in a
nation that is deeply divided, and I am a Black woman speaking at the
Democratic Convention. But enough of you know me by now. You know that I
tell you exactly what I'm feeling. You know I hate politics. But you
also know that I care about this nation. You know how much I care about
all of our children.
So if you take
one thing from my words tonight, it is this: if you think things cannot
possibly get worse, trust me, they can; and they will if we don't make a
change in this election. If we have any hope of ending this chaos, we
have got to vote for Joe Biden like our lives depend on it.
I
know Joe. He is a profoundly decent man, guided by faith. He was a
terrific vice president. He knows what it takes to rescue an economy,
beat back a pandemic, and lead our country. And he listens. He will tell
the truth and trust science. He will make smart plans and manage a good
team. And he will govern as someone who's lived a life that the rest of
us can recognize.
When he was a
kid, Joe's father lost his job. When he was a young senator, Joe lost
his wife and his baby daughter. And when he was vice president, he lost
his beloved son. So Joe knows the anguish of sitting at a table with an
empty chair, which is why he gives his time so freely to grieving
parents. Joe knows what it's like to struggle, which is why he gives his
personal phone number to kids overcoming a stutter of their own.
His
life is a testament to getting back up, and he is going to channel that
same grit and passion to pick us all up, to help us heal and guide us
forward.
Now, Joe is not
perfect. And he'd be the first to tell you that. But there is no perfect
candidate, no perfect president. And his ability to learn and grow—we
find in that the kind of humility and maturity that so many of us yearn
for right now. Because Joe Biden has served this nation his entire life
without ever losing sight of who he is; but more than that, he has never
lost sight of who we are, all of us.
Joe
Biden wants all of our kids to go to a good school, see a doctor when
they're sick, live on a healthy planet. And he's got plans to make all
of that happen. Joe Biden wants all of our kids, no matter what they
look like, to be able to walk out the door without worrying about being
harassed or arrested or killed. He wants all of our kids to be able to
go to a movie or a math class without being afraid of getting shot. He
wants all our kids to grow up with leaders who won't just serve
themselves and their wealthy peers but will provide a safety net for
people facing hard times.
And
if we want a chance to pursue any of these goals, any of these most
basic requirements for a functioning society, we have to vote for Joe
Biden in numbers that cannot be ignored. Because right now, folks who
know they cannot win fair and square at the ballot box are doing
everything they can to stop us from voting. They're closing down polling
places in minority neighborhoods. They're purging voter rolls. They're
sending people out to intimidate voters, and they're lying about the
security of our ballots. These tactics are not new.
But
this is not the time to withhold our votes in protest or play games
with candidates who have no chance of winning. We have got to vote like
we did in 2008 and 2012. We've got to show up with the same level of
passion and hope for Joe Biden. We've got to vote early, in person if we
can. We've got to request our mail-in ballots right now, tonight, and
send them back immediately and follow-up to make sure they're received.
And then, make sure our friends and families do the same.
We
have got to grab our comfortable shoes, put on our masks, pack a brown
bag dinner and maybe breakfast too, because we've got to be willing to
stand in line all night if we have to.
Look,
we have already sacrificed so much this year. So many of you are
already going that extra mile. Even when you're exhausted, you're
mustering up unimaginable courage to put on those scrubs and give our
loved ones a fighting chance. Even when you're anxious, you're
delivering those packages, stocking those shelves, and doing all that
essential work so that all of us can keep moving forward.
Even
when it all feels so overwhelming, working parents are somehow piecing
it all together without child care. Teachers are getting creative so
that our kids can still learn and grow. Our young people are desperately
fighting to pursue their dreams.
And
when the horrors of systemic racism shook our country and our
consciences, millions of Americans of every age, every background rose
up to march for each other, crying out for justice and progress.
This
is who we still are: compassionate, resilient, decent people whose
fortunes are bound up with one another. And it is well past time for our
leaders to once again reflect our truth.
So,
it is up to us to add our voices and our votes to the course of
history, echoing heroes like John Lewis who said, "When you see
something that is not right, you must say something. You must do
something." That is the truest form of empathy: not just feeling, but
doing; not just for ourselves or our kids, but for everyone, for all our
kids.
And
if we want to keep the possibility of progress alive in our time, if we
want to be able to look our children in the eye after this election, we
have got to reassert our place in American history. And we have got to
do everything we can to elect my friend, Joe Biden, as the next
president of the United States.
Thank you all. God bless.
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