奧巴馬卸任演講視訊完整版

　　北京時間週三1月11日上午，美國總統奧巴馬將在芝加哥發表告別演講，宣告8年的總統生涯結束，這也意味著距離特朗普上任僅剩不到10天的時間。那麼，奧巴馬卸任演講視訊直播地址哪裡看？下面小編整理的奧巴馬告別演講直播視訊。一起來看看吧。

　　奧巴馬告別演說視訊

　　奧巴馬告別演講中英全文

　　很高興回家，回到芝加哥!回家真好!

　　正如你們所見，我現在是個“跛腳鴨”總統，因為沒有人再聽從我的指示，正如現場大家每個人都有個座位。

　　我和米歇爾對於近幾周我們收到來自各方的祝福表示十分的感動。今晚，我該向大家說句謝謝了!也許我們為曾見面，也許我們意見不合，但謝謝美國人民對我的真誠。是你們讓我成為了一位美國總統，是你們讓我成為一個更棒的人。

　　我二十多歲的時候來到芝加哥，那個時候我還在探求我是誰，人生的意義是什麼。那個時候我工作的地方就離現在這裡不遠，也正是在這幾條街道上我意識到了信念的力量和麵臨林磨難的尊嚴。在這裡，我知道，只有普通人真正融入、團結在一起，我們才可以做出改變。即使在我作為總統的這八年中，我依然堅信。

　　這不僅只是我的信仰，也是全體美國人的心聲。美國的與眾不同是我們能變得更好的能力。

　　權力從一個自由選舉的總統向下一任轉移的過程是平穩有序的，這是非常重要的。我曾向特朗普承諾，我的政治團隊將確保此次換屆過程非常平穩，就像當初布什總統把權力交接給我一樣。因為，我們每個人首先要保證美國政府未來有能力解決我們現在仍然面臨的問題。

　　在美國曆史中，曾經有過幾次內部團結被破壞的時候。本世紀初，就是美國社會團結遭到威脅的一個時期。世界各國聯絡更加緊密，但是社會不平等問題更加突出，恐怖主義的威脅也更加嚴重。這些因素不僅僅會考驗美國的安全和法弄，也對美國的民眾體制產生威脅。未來，我們如何迎接這些民主挑戰將關係到我們是否能正確教育下一代、繼續創造就業崗位並保護美國的國土安全“

　　醫療保險政策

　　目前，美國未參保人數比例大幅下降，醫療保健費用增速已將降至過去50年以來最低水平。如果任何人能夠提出一項醫保政策，並切實證明新政策比上一屆政府提出的醫保改革更加有效，能夠儘可能地以較低價格覆蓋廣大美國人民，我會公開支援這種新的醫保政策。

　　種族和移民問題

　　美國總統大選結束後，一些人認為美國已經進入後種族時代。儘管這種種族融合的願望是好的，但是卻不太可能真正實現。目前，種族問題仍然是一個可能造成社會分裂的重大問題。以我個人經歷來看，如今美國社會的種族問題比二十、三十年前有了較大改善，這種社會進步不僅僅體現在統計數字中，也可以從不同政治觀念的年輕一代美國人的態度中看出來。

　　但是，我們的工作還遠遠沒有結束。我們每個人都還有很多工作去做。如果每個經濟問題都通過勤勞的美國中產階級與少數族群之間的衝突來解讀，那麼各個種族的工人階級將為一點點剩餘的勞動果實爭得頭破血流，而那些富人會進一步收縮排他們自己的小圈子。如果我們僅僅因為移民後裔長得不像我們，就拒絕給這些孩子投資，那我們也是在犧牲美國人後代的希望，因為這些移民後裔未來會在美國工薪階層佔很大比例。

　　少數族裔問題

　　對於黑人和其他少數族群需要共同奮鬥來解決許多美國人面臨的問題，這不僅僅包括難民、移民、農村的群人和變性人，也包括那些看上去享受各種社會優待的中年男性白人，因為這些人都面臨全社會經濟、文化和科技發生重大變革的挑戰。

　　政治是一場觀點的較量，這也是民主體制的設計理念。但是，如果每個政治團體沒有一些社會共識，不願意去了解新的資訊，不願意去承認對手方的論點合理，也不願意通過科學論據理性思考，那麼這場辯論中沒有人在聆聽，雙方就不可能產生共識或者妥協。

　　環境保護

　　如果我們不採取更加積極的環境保護措施，我們的下一代就沒有時間再討論環境變化是否存在，而是忙於處理環境變化帶來的後果，包括自然災害、經濟發展停滯以及環境難民尋求避難等問題。現在，我們能夠也應當討論如何最好地解決環境變化問題。但是，如果我們僅僅否認環境問題存在，這不僅僅是背叛下一代，也背叛了歷史先驅們尋求創新並解決實際問題的精神。

　　恐怖襲擊

　　過去八年中，沒有任何一個境外恐怖主義組織成功地在美國本土上計劃並執行一次恐怖襲擊。儘管美國發生了本土滋生的恐怖主義襲擊事件，包括波士頓馬拉松炸彈襲擊以及聖博娜迪諾襲擊事件。對於那些一直堅守在工作崗位上的反恐工作人員，擔任你們的指揮官是我一輩子的榮耀。

　　我反對任何歧視美國穆斯林群體的行為。我們需要更加警惕，但是不需要害怕ISIL組織伊拉克和黎凡特伊斯蘭國殺害更多無辜的人民。如果我們在鬥爭中堅守美國憲法和核心精神，他們就無法戰勝美國。俄羅斯或者中國等其他國家無法匹敵美國在全球範圍內的影響，除非我們自己放棄這種影響力，變成一個只會欺負周邊小國的大國。

　　不論我們屬於哪一個黨派，我們所有人都應當致力於重建美國的民主政治制度。我們的民主憲法是一項傑出的成就，也是上天賜予的禮物，但是這僅僅是一張紙，憲法本身不具備任何力量。憲法的力量是我們美國人民通過參與選舉、做出決議賦予的。

　　美國人應當成為積極參與政治的公民，讓參與政治成為日常生活的一部分，特別是如果一些人對目前美國政治的現狀不滿的話：“如果你厭倦了與網際網路上的陌生人爭辯，可以考慮在現實生活中與異見人士辯論。如果你認為一些問題需要被解決，那就採取行動組織力量。如果你對選舉出來的政府官員不滿意，那就爭取其他人的支援來自己競選。

　　致謝

　　米歇爾，過去二十五年中，你不僅僅是我的妻子孩子的母親，也是我最好的朋友。你擔任了一個不是你爭取來的職責，但是你的優雅、勇氣和幽默都給這個身份烙上了你自己的印記。

　　奧巴馬轉向他的女兒你們兩個女孩聰明、美麗，更重要的是，你們善良而又充滿熱情。過去幾年中，你們沒有被聚光燈所累。在我的一生中，我為成為你們的父親而自豪。

　　感謝副總統拜登從賓州斯克蘭頓到特拉華州，你是我當選美國總統後提名的第一個人選，也是我最好的選擇。拜登是一個好兄弟，就像家人一樣。

　　感謝工作人員你們改變了這個世界。今晚，我將離開這個舞臺，但是我對於這個國家比我剛上任時更加樂觀.

　　美國民眾對國家充滿信心

　　我希望你相信，不僅僅相信我能夠為美國帶來改變的能力，也相信你自己能夠改變這個國家的能力。

　　希望你們堅信美國建國憲章中記載的精神，相信奴隸和廢奴主義者傳播的平等觀念，相信曾經通過遊行爭取移民公平權利的精神，相信那些將美利堅旗幟插在海外戰場和月球表面的國家信念。這種信念存在於每個普通美國人的心中。

　　是的，我們能行。

　　是的，我們做到了。

　　是的，我們能行!

　　英文原文

　　It’s good to be home. My fellow Americans, Michelle and I have been so touched by all the well-wishes we’ve received over the past few weeks. But tonight it’s my turn to say thanks. Whether we’ve seen eye-to-eye or rarely agreed at all, my conversations with you, the American people – in living rooms and schools; at farms and on factory floors; at diners and on distant outposts – are what have kept me honest, kept me inspired, and kept me going. Every day, I learned from you. You made me a better President, and you made me a better man.

　　I first came to Chicago when I was in my early twenties, still trying to figure out who I was; still searching for a purpose to my life. It was in neighborhoods not far from here where I began working with church groups in the shadows of closed steel mills. It was on these streets where I witnessed the power of faith, and the quiet dignity of working people in the face of struggle and loss. This is where I learned that change only happens when ordinary people get involved, get engaged, and come together to demand it.

　　After eight years as your President, I still believe that. And it’s not just my belief. It’s the beating heart of our American idea – our bold experiment in self-government.

　　It’s the conviction that we are all created equal, endowed by our Creator with certain unalienable rights, among them life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

　　It’s the insistence that these rights, while self-evident, have never been self-executing; that We, the People, through the instrument of our democracy, can form a more perfect union.

　　This is the great gift our Founders gave us. The freedom to chase our individual dreams through our sweat, toil, and imagination – and the imperative to strive together as well, to achieve a greater good.

　　For 240 years, our nation’s call to citizenship has given work and purpose to each new generation. It’s what led patriots to choose republic over tyranny, pioneers to trek west, slaves to brave that makeshift railroad to freedom. It’s what pulled immigrants and refugees across oceans and the Rio Grande, pushed women to reach for the ballot, powered workers to organize. It’s why GIs gave their lives at Omaha Beach and Iwo Jima; Iraq and Afghanistan – and why men and women from Selma to Stonewall were prepared to give theirs as well.

　　So that’s what we mean when we say America is exceptional. Not that our nation has been flawless from the start, but that we have shown the capacity to change, and make life better for those who follow.

　　Yes, our progress has been uneven. The work of democracy has always been hard, contentious and sometimes bloody. For every two steps forward, it often feels we take one step back. But the long sweep of America has been defined by forward motion, a constant widening of our founding creed to embrace all, and not just some.

　　If I had told you eight years ago that America would reverse a great recession, reboot our auto industry, and unleash the longest stretch of job creation in our history…if I had told you that we would open up a new chapter with the Cuban people, shut down Iran’s nuclear weapons program without firing a shot, and take out the mastermind of 9/11…if I had told you that we would win marriage equality, and secure the right to health insurance for another 20 million of our fellow citizens – you might have said our sights were set a little too high.

　　But that’s what we did. That’s what you did. You were the change. You answered people’s hopes, and because of you, by almost every measure, America is a better, stronger place than it was when we started.

　　In ten days, the world will witness a hallmark of our democracy: the peaceful transfer of power from one freely-elected president to the next. I committed to President-Elect Trump that my administration would ensure the smoothest possible transition, just as President Bush did for me. Because it’s up to all of us to make sure our government can help us meet the many challenges we still face.

　　We have what we need to do so. After all, we remain the wealthiest, most powerful, and most respected nation on Earth. Our youth and drive, our diversity and openness, our boundless capacity for risk and reinvention mean that the future should be ours.

　　But that potential will be realized only if our democracy works. Only if our politics reflects the decency of the our people. Only if all of us, regardless of our party affiliation or particular interest, help restore the sense of common purpose that we so badly need right now.

　　That’s what I want to focus on tonight – the state of our democracy.

　　Understand, democracy does not require uniformity. Our founders quarreled and compromised, and expected us to do the same. But they knew that democracy does require a basic sense of solidarity – the idea that for all our outward differences, we are all in this together; that we rise or fall as one.

　　There have been moments throughout our history that threatened to rupture that solidarity. The beginning of this century has been one of those times. A shrinking world, growing inequality; demographic change and the specter of terrorism – these forces haven’t just tested our security and prosperity, but our democracy as well. And how we meet these challenges to our democracy will determine our ability to educate our kids, and create good jobs, and protect our homeland.

　　In other words, it will determine our future.

　　Our democracy won’t work without a sense that everyone has economic opportunity. Today, the economy is growing again; wages, incomes, home values, and retirement accounts are rising again; poverty is falling again. The wealthy are paying a fairer share of taxes even as the stock market shatters records. The unemployment rate is near a ten-year low. The uninsured rate has never, ever been lower. Health care costs are rising at the slowest rate in fifty years. And if anyone can put together a plan that is demonstrably better than the improvements we’ve made to our health care system – that covers as many people at less cost – I will publicly support it.

　　That, after all, is why we serve – to make people’s lives better, not worse.

　　But for all the real progress 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. But stark inequality is also corrosive to our democratic principles. While the top one percent has amassed a bigger share of wealth and income, too many families, in inner cities and rural counties, have been left behind – the laid-off factory worker; the waitress and health care worker who struggle to pay the bills – convinced that the game is fixed against them, that their government only serves the interests of the powerful – a recipe for more cynicism and polarization in our politics.

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

　　And so we must 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 the new economy don’t avoid their obligations to the country that’s made their 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 – one as old as our nation itself. After my election, there was talk of a post-racial America. Such a vision, however well-intended, was never realistic. For race remains a potent and often divisive force in our society. I’ve lived long enough to know that race relations are better than they were ten, or twenty, or thirty years ago – you can see it not just in statistics, but in the attitudes of young Americans across the political spectrum.

　　But we’re not where we need to be. All of us have more work to do. After all, if every economic issue is framed as a struggle between a hardworking white middle class and undeserving minorities, then workers of all shades will be left fighting for scraps while the wealthy withdraw further into their private enclaves. If we decline to invest in the children of immigrants, just because they don’t look like us, we diminish the prospects of our own children – because those brown kids will represent a larger share of America’s workforce. And 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.

　　Going forward, we must uphold laws against discrimination – in hiring, in housing, in education and the criminal justice system. That’s what our Constitution and highest ideals require. But laws alone won’t be enough. Hearts must change. If our democracy is to work in this increasingly diverse nation, each one of us must try to heed the advice of one of the great characters 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 minorities, it means tying our own struggles for justice to the challenges that a lot of people in this country face – the refugee, the immigrant, the rural poor, the transgender American, and also the middle-aged white man who from the outside may seem like he’s got all the advantages, but who’s seen his world upended by economic, cultural, and technological change.

　　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; that when they wage peaceful protest, they’re not demanding special treatment, but the equal treatment 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, Italians, and Poles. America wasn’t weakened by the presence of these newcomers; they embraced this nation’s creed, and it was strengthened.

　　So regardless of the station we occupy; we have to try harder; 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 like we do; that their children are just as curious and hopeful and worthy of love as our own.

　　None of this is easy. For too many of us, it’s become safer to retreat into our own bubbles, whether in our neighborhoods or college campuses or places of worship or 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, 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 accept only information, whether true or not, that fits our opinions, instead of basing our opinions on the evidence that’s out there.

　　This trend represents a third threat to our democracy. Politics is a battle of ideas; in the course of a healthy debate, we’ll 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 is making a fair point, and that science and reason matter, we’ll keep talking past each other, making common ground and compromise impossible.

　　Isn’t that part of what makes politics so 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, doubled our renewable energy, and 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: environmental disasters, economic disruptions, and waves of climate refugees seeking sanctuary.

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

　　It’s 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 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, and build a post-World War II order with other democracies, an order based not just on military power or national affiliations but on principles – the rule of law, human rights, freedoms of religion, speech, 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, open democracies, 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 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, and the intelligence officers, law enforcement, and diplomats who support them, no foreign terrorist organization has successfully planned and executed an attack on our homeland these past eight years; and although Boston and Orlando remind us of how dangerous radicalization can be, our law enforcement agencies are more effective and vigilant than ever. We’ve taken out tens of thousands of terrorists – including Osama 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. To all who serve, it has been the honor of my lifetime to be your Commander-in-Chief.

　　But protecting our way of life requires more than 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. That’s why, for the past eight years, I’ve worked to put the fight against terrorism on a firm legal footing. That’s why we’ve ended torture, worked to close Gitmo, and reform our laws governing surveillance to protect privacy and civil liberties. That’s why I reject discrimination against Muslim Americans. That’s why we cannot withdraw from global fights – to expand democracy, and human rights, women’s rights, and LGBT rights – no matter how imperfect our efforts, no matter how expedient ignoring such values may seem. For the fight against extremism and intolerance and sectarianism 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 throw ourselves into the task of rebuilding our democratic institutions. When voting rates are some of the lowest among advanced democracies, we should make 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 districts to encourage politicians to cater to common sense and not rigid extremes.

　　And all of this depends on our participation; on each of us accepting the responsibility of citizenship, regardless of which way the pendulum of power swings.

　　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 – with our participation, and the choices we make. Whether or not we stand up for our freedoms. Whether or not we respect and enforce the rule of law. 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;” that we should preserve it 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.

　　We weaken those ties when we allow our political dialogue to become so corrosive that people of good character are turned off from public service; so coarse with rancor that Americans with whom we disagree are not just misguided, but somehow 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 blame the leaders we elect without examining our own role in electing them.

　　It falls to each of us to be 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 all share the same proud title: Citizen.

　　Ultimately, 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 to talk with one in real life. If something needs fixing, 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. Persevere. Sometimes you’ll win. Sometimes you’ll lose. Presuming a reservoir of goodness in others can be a risk, and there will be times when the process disappoints you. But for those of us fortunate enough to have been a part of this work, 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’ve mourned with grieving families searching for answers, and found grace in Charleston church. I’ve seen our scientists help a paralyzed man regain his sense of touch, and our wounded warriors 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 of our obligations to care for refugees, to work in peace, and above all to look out for each other.

　　That faith 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 couldn’t possibly have imagined. I hope yours has, too. Some of you here tonight or watching at home were there with us in 2004, in 2008, in 2012 – and maybe you still can’t believe we pulled this whole thing off.

　　You’re not the only ones. Michelle – for the past twenty-five years, you’ve been not only my wife and mother of my children, but my best friend. You took on a role you didn’t ask for and made it your own with grace and grit and style and good humor. You made the White House a place that belongs to everybody. And a new generation sets its sights higher because it has you as a role model. You’ve made me proud. You’ve made the country proud.

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

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

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

　　And to all of you out there – every organizer who moved to an unfamiliar town and kind family who welcomed them in, every volunteer who knocked on doors, every young person who cast a ballot for the first time, every American who lived and breathed the hard work of change – you are the best supporters and organizers anyone could hope for, and I will forever be grateful. Because yes, you changed the world.

　　That’s why I leave this stage tonight even more optimistic about this country than I was when we started. Because I know our work has not only helped so many Americans; it has inspired so many Americans – especially so many young people out there – to believe you can make a difference; to hitch your wagon to something bigger than yourselves. This generation coming up – unselfish, altruistic, creative, patriotic – I’ve seen you in every corner of the country. You believe in a fair, just, inclusive America; you know that constant change has been America’s hallmark, something not to fear but to embrace, and you are willing to carry this hard work of democracy forward. You’ll soon outnumber any of us, and I believe as a result that the future is in good hands.

　　My fellow Americans, it has been the honor of my life to serve you. I won’t stop; in fact, I will be right there with you, as a citizen, for all my days that remain. For now, whether you’re young or young at heart, I do have one final ask of you as your President – the same thing I asked when you took a chance on me eight years ago.

　　I am asking you to believe. Not in my ability to bring about change – but in yours.

　　I am asking you to hold fast to that faith written into our founding documents; that idea whispered by slaves and abolitionists; that spirit sung by immigrants and homesteaders and those who marched for justice; that creed reaffirmed by those who planted flags from foreign battlefields to the surface of the moon; a creed at the core of every American whose story is not yet written:

　　Yes We Can.

　　Yes We Did.

　　Yes We Can.

　　Thank you. God bless you. And may God continue to bless the United States of America.