President Obama’s Farewell Speech:full Text.…

Because that, after all, is why we serve. Not to score points or take cred­it, but to make people’s lives better.

But for all the real progress that we’ve made, we know it’s not enough. Our econ­o­my doesn’t work as well or grow as fast when a few pros­per at the expense of a grow­ing mid­dle class and lad­ders for folks who want to get into the mid­dle class. That’s the eco­nom­ic argu­ment. But stark inequal­i­ty is also cor­ro­sive to our demo­c­ra­t­ic ide­al. While the top one per­cent has amassed a big­ger share of wealth and income, too many fam­i­lies, in inner cities and in rur­al coun­ties, have been left behind ― the laid-off fac­to­ry work­er; the wait­ress or health care work­er who’s just bare­ly get­ting by and strug­gling to pay the bills ― con­vinced that the game is fixed against them, that their gov­ern­ment only serves the inter­ests of the pow­er­ful ― that’s a recipe for more cyn­i­cism and polar­iza­tion in our politics.

But there are no quick fix­es to this long-term trend. I agree, our trade should be fair and not just free. But the next wave of eco­nom­ic dis­lo­ca­tions won’t come from over­seas. It will come from the relent­less pace of automa­tion that makes a lot of good, mid­dle-class jobs obsolete.

And so we’re going to have to forge a new social com­pact to guar­an­tee all our kids the edu­ca­tion they need to give work­ers the pow­er to union­ize for bet­ter wages; to update the social safe­ty net to reflect the way we live now, and make more reforms to the tax code so cor­po­ra­tions and indi­vid­u­als who reap the most from this new econ­o­my don’t avoid their oblig­a­tions to the coun­try that’s made their very suc­cess possible.

We can argue about how to best achieve these goals. But we can’t be com­pla­cent about the goals them­selves. For if we don’t cre­ate oppor­tu­ni­ty for all peo­ple, the dis­af­fec­tion and divi­sion that has stalled our progress will only sharp­en in years to come.

There’s a sec­ond threat to our democ­ra­cy ― and this one is as old as our nation itself. After my elec­tion, there was talk of a post-racial America. And such a vision, how­ev­er well-intend­ed, was nev­er real­is­tic. Race remains a potent and often divi­sive force in our soci­ety. Now, I’ve lived long enough to know that race rela­tions are bet­ter than they were 10, or 20, or 30 years ago, no mat­ter what some folks say. You can see it not just in sta­tis­tics, you see it in the atti­tudes of young Americans across the polit­i­cal spectrum.

But we’re not where we need to be. And all of us have more work to do. If every eco­nom­ic issue is framed as a strug­gle between a hard­work­ing white mid­dle class and an unde­serv­ing minor­i­ty, then work­ers of all shades are going to be left fight­ing for scraps while the wealthy with­draw fur­ther into their pri­vate enclaves. If we’re unwill­ing to invest in the chil­dren of immi­grants, just because they don’t look like us, we will dimin­ish the prospects of our own chil­dren ― because those brown kids will rep­re­sent a larg­er and larg­er share of America’s work­force. And we have shown that our econ­o­my doesn’t have to be a zero-sum game. Last year, incomes rose for all races, all age groups, for men and for women.

So if we’re going to be seri­ous about race going for­ward, we need to uphold laws against dis­crim­i­na­tion ― in hir­ing, and in hous­ing, and in edu­ca­tion, and in the crim­i­nal jus­tice sys­tem. That is what our Constitution and our high­est ideals require.

But laws alone won’t be enough. Hearts must change. It won’t change overnight. Social atti­tudes often­times take gen­er­a­tions to change. But if our democ­ra­cy is to work in this increas­ing­ly diverse nation, then each one of us need to try to heed the advice of a great char­ac­ter in American fic­tion ― Atticus Finch who said “You nev­er real­ly under­stand a per­son until you con­sid­er things from his point of view…until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.”

For blacks and oth­er minor­i­ty groups, it means tying our own very real strug­gles for jus­tice to the chal­lenges that a lot of peo­ple in this coun­try face ― not only the refugee, or the immi­grant, or the rur­al poor, or the trans­gen­der American, but also the mid­dle-aged white guy who, from the out­side, may seem like he’s got advan­tages, but has seen his world upend­ed by eco­nom­ic and cul­tur­al and tech­no­log­i­cal change. We have to pay atten­tion, and listen.

For white Americans, it means acknowl­edg­ing that the effects of slav­ery and Jim Crow didn’t sud­den­ly van­ish in the ‘60s that when minor­i­ty groups voice dis­con­tent, they’re not just engag­ing in reverse racism or prac­tic­ing polit­i­cal cor­rect­ness. When they wage peace­ful protest, they’re not demand­ing spe­cial treat­ment but the equal treat­ment that our Founders promised.

For native-born Americans, it means remind­ing our­selves that the stereo­types about immi­grants today were said, almost word for word, about the Irish, and Italians, and Poles ― who it was said we’re going to destroy the fun­da­men­tal char­ac­ter of America. And as it turned out, America wasn’t weak­ened by the pres­ence of these new­com­ers; these new­com­ers embraced this nation’s creed, and this nation was strengthened.

So regard­less of the sta­tion that we occu­py, we all have to try hard­er. We all have to start with the premise that each of our fel­low cit­i­zens loves this coun­try just as much as we do; that they val­ue hard work and fam­i­ly just like we do; that their chil­dren are just as curi­ous and hope­ful and wor­thy of love as our own.

And that’s not easy to do. For too many of us, it’s become safer to retreat into our own bub­bles, whether in our neigh­bor­hoods or on col­lege cam­pus­es, or places of wor­ship, or espe­cial­ly our social media feeds, sur­round­ed by peo­ple who look like us and share the same polit­i­cal out­look and nev­er chal­lenge our assump­tions. The rise of naked par­ti­san­ship, and increas­ing eco­nom­ic and region­al strat­i­fi­ca­tion, the splin­ter­ing of our media into a chan­nel for every taste ― all this makes this great sort­ing seem nat­ur­al, even inevitable. And increas­ing­ly, we become so secure in our bub­bles that we start accept­ing only infor­ma­tion, whether it’s true or not, that fits our opin­ions, instead of bas­ing our opin­ions on the evi­dence that is out there.

And this trend rep­re­sents a third threat to our democ­ra­cy. But pol­i­tics is a bat­tle of ideas. That’s how our democ­ra­cy was designed. In the course of a healthy debate, we pri­or­i­tize dif­fer­ent goals, and the dif­fer­ent means of reach­ing them. But with­out some com­mon base­line of facts, with­out a will­ing­ness to admit new infor­ma­tion, and con­cede that your oppo­nent might be mak­ing a fair point, and that sci­ence and rea­son mat­ter then we’re going to keep talk­ing past each oth­er, and we’ll make com­mon ground and com­pro­mise impossible.

And isn’t that part of what so often makes pol­i­tics dispir­it­ing? How can elect­ed offi­cials rage about deficits when we pro­pose to spend mon­ey on preschool for kids, but not when we’re cut­ting tax­es for cor­po­ra­tions? How do we excuse eth­i­cal laps­es in our own par­ty, but pounce when the oth­er par­ty does the same thing? It’s not just dis­hon­est, this selec­tive sort­ing of the facts; it’s self-defeat­ing. Because, as my moth­er used to tell me, real­i­ty has a way of catch­ing up with you.

Take the chal­lenge of cli­mate change. In just eight years, we’ve halved our depen­dence on for­eign oil; we’ve dou­bled our renew­able ener­gy; we’ve led the world to an agree­ment that has the promise to save this plan­et. But with­out bold­er action, our chil­dren won’t have time to debate the exis­tence of cli­mate change. They’ll be busy deal­ing with its effects: more envi­ron­men­tal dis­as­ters, more eco­nom­ic dis­rup­tions, waves of cli­mate refugees seek­ing sanctuary.

Now, we can and should argue about the best approach to solve the prob­lem. But to sim­ply deny the prob­lem not only betrays future gen­er­a­tions, it betrays the essen­tial spir­it of this coun­try ― the essen­tial spir­it of inno­va­tion and prac­ti­cal prob­lem-solv­ing that guid­ed our Founders.

It is that spir­it, born of the Enlightenment, that made us an eco­nom­ic pow­er­house ― the spir­it that took flight at Kitty Hawk and Cape Canaveral; the spir­it that cures dis­ease and put a com­put­er in every pocket.

It’s that spir­it ― a faith in rea­son, and enter­prise, and the pri­ma­cy of right over might ― that allowed us to resist the lure of fas­cism and tyran­ny dur­ing the Great Depression; that allowed us to build a post-World War II order with oth­er democ­ra­cies, an order based not just on mil­i­tary pow­er or nation­al affil­i­a­tions but built on prin­ci­ples ― the rule of law, human rights, free­dom of reli­gion, and speech, and assem­bly, and an inde­pen­dent press.

That order is now being chal­lenged ― first by vio­lent fanat­ics who claim to speak for Islam; more recent­ly by auto­crats in for­eign cap­i­tals who see free mar­kets and open democ­ra­cies and and civ­il soci­ety itself as a threat to their pow­er. The per­il each pos­es to our democ­ra­cy is more far-reach­ing than a car bomb or a mis­sile. It rep­re­sents the fear of change; the fear of peo­ple who look or speak or pray dif­fer­ent­ly; a con­tempt for the rule of law that holds lead­ers account­able; an intol­er­ance of dis­sent and free thought; a belief that the sword or the gun or the bomb or the pro­pa­gan­da machine is the ulti­mate arbiter of what’s true and what’s right.

Because of the extra­or­di­nary courage of our men and women in uni­form, because of our intel­li­gence offi­cers, and law enforce­ment, and diplo­mats who sup­port our troops, no for­eign ter­ror­ist orga­ni­za­tion has suc­cess­ful­ly planned and exe­cut­ed an attack on our home­land these past eight years. And although Boston and Orlando and San Bernardino and Fort Hood remind us of how dan­ger­ous rad­i­cal­iza­tion can be, our law enforce­ment agen­cies are more effec­tive and vig­i­lant than ever. We have tak­en out tens of thou­sands of ter­ror­ists ― includ­ing bin Laden. The glob­al coali­tion we’re lead­ing against ISIL has tak­en out their lead­ers, and tak­en away about half their ter­ri­to­ry. ISIL will be destroyed, and no one who threat­ens America will ever be safe.

And to all who serve or have served, it has been the hon­or of my life­time to be your Commander-in-Chief. And we all owe you a deep debt of gratitude.

But pro­tect­ing our way of life, that’s not just the job of our mil­i­tary. Democracy can buck­le when we give in to fear. So, just as we, as cit­i­zens, must remain vig­i­lant against exter­nal aggres­sion, we must guard against a weak­en­ing of the val­ues that make us who we are.

And that’s why, for the past eight years, I’ve worked to put the fight against ter­ror­ism on a firmer legal foot­ing. That’s why we’ve end­ed tor­ture, worked to close Gitmo, reformed our laws gov­ern­ing sur­veil­lance to pro­tect pri­va­cy and civ­il lib­er­ties. That’s why I reject dis­crim­i­na­tion against Muslim Americans, who are just as patri­ot­ic as we are.

That’s why we can­not with­draw from big glob­al fights ― to expand democ­ra­cy, and human rights, and women’s rights, and LGBT rights. No mat­ter how imper­fect our efforts, no mat­ter how expe­di­ent ignor­ing such val­ues may seem, that’s part of defend­ing America. For the fight against extrem­ism and intol­er­ance and sec­tar­i­an­ism and chau­vin­ism are of a piece with the fight against author­i­tar­i­an­ism and nation­al­ist aggres­sion. If the scope of free­dom and respect for the rule of law shrinks around the world, the like­li­hood of war with­in and between nations increas­es, and our own free­doms will even­tu­al­ly be threatened.

So let’s be vig­i­lant, but not afraid. ISIL will try to kill inno­cent peo­ple. But they can­not defeat America unless we betray our Constitution and our prin­ci­ples in the fight. Rivals like Russia or China can­not match our influ­ence around the world ― unless we give up what we stand for and turn our­selves into just anoth­er big coun­try that bul­lies small­er neighbors.

Which brings me to my final point: Our democ­ra­cy is threat­ened when­ev­er we take it for grant­ed. All of us, regard­less of par­ty, should be throw­ing our­selves into the task of rebuild­ing our demo­c­ra­t­ic insti­tu­tions. When vot­ing rates in America are some of the low­est among advanced democ­ra­cies, we should be mak­ing it eas­i­er, not hard­er, to vote. When trust in our insti­tu­tions is low, we should reduce the cor­ro­sive influ­ence of mon­ey in our pol­i­tics, and insist on the prin­ci­ples of trans­paren­cy and ethics in pub­lic ser­vice. When Congress is dys­func­tion­al, we should draw our con­gres­sion­al dis­tricts to encour­age politi­cians to cater to com­mon sense and not rigid extremes.

But remem­ber, none of this hap­pens on its own. All of this depends on our par­tic­i­pa­tion; on each of us accept­ing the respon­si­bil­i­ty of cit­i­zen­ship, regard­less of which way the pen­du­lum of pow­er hap­pens to be swinging.

Our Constitution is a remark­able, beau­ti­ful gift. But it’s real­ly just a piece of parch­ment. It has no pow­er on its own. We, the peo­ple, give it pow­er. We, the peo­ple, give it mean­ing. With our par­tic­i­pa­tion, and with the choic­es that we make, and the alliances that we forge. Whether or not we stand up for our free­doms. Whether or not we respect and enforce the rule of law. That’s up to us. America is no frag­ile thing. But the gains of our long jour­ney to free­dom are not assured.

In his own farewell address, George Washington wrote that self-gov­ern­ment is the under­pin­ning of our safe­ty, pros­per­i­ty, and lib­er­ty, but “from dif­fer­ent caus­es and from dif­fer­ent quar­ters much pains will be taken…to weak­en in your minds the con­vic­tion of this truth.” And so we have to pre­serve this truth with “jeal­ous anx­i­ety;” that we should reject “the first dawn­ing of every attempt to alien­ate any por­tion of our coun­try from the rest or to enfee­ble the sacred ties” that make us one.

America, we weak­en those ties when we allow our polit­i­cal dia­logue to become so cor­ro­sive that peo­ple of good char­ac­ter aren’t even will­ing to enter into pub­lic ser­vice; so coarse with ran­cor that Americans with whom we dis­agree are seen not just as mis­guid­ed but as malev­o­lent. We weak­en those ties when we define some of us as more American than oth­ers; when we write off the whole sys­tem as inevitably cor­rupt, and when we sit back and blame the lead­ers we elect with­out exam­in­ing our own role in elect­ing them.

It falls to each of us to be those those anx­ious, jeal­ous guardians of our democ­ra­cy; to embrace the joy­ous task we’ve been giv­en to con­tin­u­al­ly try to improve this great nation of ours. Because for all our out­ward dif­fer­ences, we, in fact, all share the same proud title, the most impor­tant office in a democ­ra­cy: Citizen. Citizen.

So, you see, that’s what our democ­ra­cy demands. It needs you. Not just when there’s an elec­tion, not just when your own nar­row inter­est is at stake, but over the full span of a life­time. If you’re tired of argu­ing with strangers on the Internet, try talk­ing with one of them in real life. If some­thing needs fix­ing, then lace up your shoes and do some orga­niz­ing. If you’re dis­ap­point­ed by your elect­ed offi­cials, grab a clip­board, get some sig­na­tures, and run for office your­self. Show up. Dive in. Stay at it.

Sometimes you’ll win. Sometimes you’ll lose. Presuming a reser­voir of good­ness in oth­er peo­ple, that can be a risk, and there will be times when the process will dis­ap­point you. But for those of us for­tu­nate enough to have been a part of this work, and to see it up close, let me tell you, it can ener­gize and inspire. And more often than not, your faith in America ― and in Americans ― will be confirmed.

Mine sure has been. Over the course of these eight years, I’ve seen the hope­ful faces of young grad­u­ates and our newest mil­i­tary offi­cers. I have mourned with griev­ing fam­i­lies search­ing for answers, and found grace in a Charleston church. I’ve seen our sci­en­tists help a par­a­lyzed man regain his sense of touch. I’ve seen wound­ed war­riors who at points were giv­en up for dead walk again. I’ve seen our doc­tors and vol­un­teers rebuild after earth­quakes and stop pan­demics in their tracks. I’ve seen the youngest of chil­dren remind us through their actions and through their gen­eros­i­ty of our oblig­a­tions to care for refugees, or work for peace, and, above all, to look out for each other.

So that faith that I placed all those years ago, not far from here, in the pow­er of ordi­nary Americans to bring about change ― that faith has been reward­ed in ways I could not have pos­si­bly imag­ined. And I hope your faith has, too. Some of you here tonight or watch­ing at home, you were there with us in 2004, in 2008, 2012 maybe you still can’t believe we pulled this whole thing off. Let me tell you, you’re not the only ones.

Michelle Michelle LaVaughn Robinson, girl of the South Side for the past 25 years, you have not only been my wife and moth­er of my chil­dren, you have been my best friend. You took on a role you didn’t ask for and you made it your own, with grace and with grit and with style and good humor. You made the White House a place that belongs to every­body. And the new gen­er­a­tion sets its sights high­er because it has you as a role mod­el. So you have made me proud. And you have made the coun­try proud.

Malia and Sasha, under the strangest of cir­cum­stances, you have become two amaz­ing young women. You are smart and you are beau­ti­ful, but more impor­tant­ly, you are kind and you are thought­ful and you are full of pas­sion. You wore the bur­den of years in the spot­light so eas­i­ly. Of all that I’ve done in my life, I am most proud to be your dad.

To Joe Biden the scrap­py kid from Scranton who became Delaware’s favorite son ― you were the first deci­sion I made as a nom­i­nee, and it was the best. Not just because you have been a great Vice President, but because in the bar­gain, I gained a broth­er. And we love you and Jill like fam­i­ly, and your friend­ship has been one of the great joys of our lives.

To my remark­able staff: For eight years ― and for some of you, a whole lot more ― I have drawn from your ener­gy, and every day I tried to reflect back what you dis­played ― heart, and char­ac­ter, and ide­al­ism. I’ve watched you grow up, get mar­ried, have kids, start incred­i­ble new jour­neys of your own. Even when times got tough and frus­trat­ing, you nev­er let Washington get the bet­ter of you. You guard­ed against cyn­i­cism. And the only thing that makes me proud­er than all the good that we’ve done is the thought of all the amaz­ing things that you’re going to achieve from here.