Remarks by the President at the 50th Anniversaryof the Selma to Montgomery MarchesEdmund Pettus Bridge Selma, Alabama

AUDIENCE MEMBER: We love you, PresidentObama!

THE PRESIDENT: Well, you know I love youback.

It is a rare honor in this life to follow one ofyour heroes. And John Lewis is one of myheroes.

Now, I have to imagine that when a youngerJohn Lewis woke up that morning 50 yearsago and made his way to Brown Chapel,heroics were not on his mind. A day like thiswas not on his mind. Young folks with bedrollsand backpacks were milling about. Veterans ofthe movement trained newcomers in thetactics of non-violence; the right way toprotect yourself when attacked. A doctordescribed what tear gas does to the body,while marchers scribbled down instructions forcontacting their loved ones. The air was thickwith doubt, anticipation and fear. And theycomforted themselves with the final verse ofthe final hymn they sung:

“No matter what may be the test, God will takecare of you;Lean, weary one, upon His breast, God will takecare of you.”

And then, his knapsack stocked with an apple,a toothbrush, and a book on government -- allyou need for a night behind bars -- John Lewisled them out of the church on a mission tochange America.

President and Mrs. Bush, Governor Bentley,Mayor Evans, Sewell, Reverend Strong,members of Congress, elected officials, footsoldiers, friends, fellow Americans:

As John noted, there are places and momentsin America where this nation’s destiny hasbeen decided. Many are sites of war --Concord and Lexington, Appomattox,Gettysburg. Others are sites that symbolizethe daring of America’s character --Independence Hall and Seneca Falls, KittyHawk and Cape Canaveral.

Selma is such a place. In one afternoon 50years ago, so much of our turbulent history --the stain of slavery and anguish of civil war;the yoke of segregation and tyranny of JimCrow; the death of four little girls inBirmingham; and the dream of a Baptistpreacher -- all that history met on this bridge.

It was not a clash of armies, but a clash of wills;a contest to determine the true meaning ofAmerica. And because of men and women likeJohn Lewis, Joseph Lowery, Hosea Williams,Amelia Boynton, Diane Nash, Ralph Abernathy,C.T. Vivian, Andrew Young, Fred Shuttlesworth,Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and so many others,the idea of a just America and a fair America,an inclusive America, and a generous America-- that idea ultimately triumphed.

As is true across the landscape of Americanhistory, we cannot examine this moment inisolation. The march on Selma was part of abroader campaign that spanned generations;the leaders that day part of a long line ofheroes.

We gather here to celebrate them. We gatherhere to honor the courage of ordinaryAmericans willing to endure billy clubs and thechastening rod; tear gas and the tramplinghoof; men and women who despite the gush ofblood and splintered bone would stay true totheir North Star and keep marching towardsjustice.

They did as Scripture instructed: “Rejoice inhope, be patient in tribulation, be constant inprayer.” And in the days to come, they wentback again and again. When the trumpet callsounded for more to join, the people came –-black and white, young and old, Christian andJew, waving the American flag and singing thesame anthems full of faith and hope. A whitenewsman, Bill Plante, who covered the marchesthen and who is with us here today, quippedthat the growing number of white peoplelowered the quality of the singing. (Laughter.) To those who marched, though, those oldgospel songs must have never sounded sosweet.

In time, their chorus would well up and reachPresident Johnson. And he would send themprotection, and speak to the nation, echoingtheir call for America and the world to hear: “We shall overcome.” What enormous faiththese men and women had. Faith in God, butalso faith in America.

The Americans who crossed this bridge, theywere not physically imposing. But they gavecourage to millions. They held no electedoffice. But they led a nation. They marched asAmericans who had endured hundreds of yearsof brutal violence, countless daily indignities –-but they didn’t seek special treatment, just theequal treatment promised to them almost acentury before.

What they did here will reverberate through

the ages. Not because the change they wonwas preordained; not because their victory wascomplete; but because they proved thatnonviolent change is possible, that love andhope can conquer hate.

As we commemorate their achievement, weare well-served to remember that at the timeof the marches, many in power condemnedrather than praised them. Back then, theywere called Communists, or half-breeds, oroutside agitators, sexual and moraldegenerates, and worse –- they were calledeverything but the name their parents gavethem. Their faith was questioned. Their liveswere threatened. Their patriotism challenged.

And yet, what could be more American thanwhat happened in this place? (Applause.) What could more profoundly vindicate theidea of America than plain and humble people–- unsung, the downtrodden, the dreamers notof high station, not born to wealth or privilege,not of one religious tradition but many, comingtogether to shape their country’s course?

What greater expression of faith in theAmerican experiment than this, what greaterform of patriotism is there than the belief thatAmerica is not yet finished, that we are strongenough to be self-critical, that each successivegeneration can look upon our imperfectionsand decide that it is in our power to remakethis nation to more closely align with ourhighest ideals?

That’s why Selma is not some outlier in theAmerican experience. That’s why it’s not amuseum or a static monument to behold froma distance. It is instead the manifestation of acreed written into our founding documents: “We the People…in order to form a moreperfect union.” “We hold these truths to beself-evident, that all men are created equal.”

These are not just words. They’re a livingthing, a call to action, a roadmap forcitizenship and an insistence in the capacity offree men and women to shape our owndestiny. For founders like Franklin andJefferson, for leaders like Lincoln and FDR, thesuccess of our experiment in self-governmentrested on engaging all of our citizens in thiswork. And that’s what we celebrate here inSelma. That’s what this movement was allabout, one leg in our long journey towardfreedom.

The American instinct that led these youngmen and women to pick up the torch and crossthis bridge, that’s the same instinct that movedpatriots to choose revolution over tyranny. It’sthe same instinct that drew immigrants fromacross oceans and the Rio Grande; the sameinstinct that led women to reach for the ballot,workers to organize against an unjust statusquo; the same instinct that led us to plant aflag at Iwo Jima and on the surface of theMoon.

It’s the idea held by generations of citizenswho believed that America is a constant workin progress; who believed that loving thiscountry requires more than singing its praisesor avoiding uncomfortable truths. It requiresthe occasional disruption, the willingness tospeak out for what is right, to shake up thestatus quo. That’s America. (Applause.)

That’s what makes us unique. That’s whatcements our reputation as a beacon ofopportunity. Young people behind the IronCurtain would see Selma and eventually teardown that wall. Young people in Sowetowould hear Bobby Kennedy talk about ripplesof hope and eventually banish the scourge ofapartheid. Young people in Burma went toprison rather than submit to military rule. Theysaw what John Lewis had done. From thestreets of Tunis to the Maidan in Ukraine, thisgeneration of young people can draw strengthfrom this place, where the powerless couldchange the world’s greatest power and pushtheir leaders to expand the boundaries offreedom.

They saw that idea made real right here inSelma, Alabama. They saw that idea manifestitself here in America.

Because of campaigns like this, a Voting RightsAct was passed. Political and economic andsocial barriers came down. And the changethese men and women wrought is visible heretoday in the presence of African Americanswho run boardrooms, who sit on the bench,who serve in elected office from small towns tobig cities; from the Congressional BlackCaucus all the way to the Oval Office.

Because of what they did, the doors ofopportunity swung open not just for blackfolks, but for every American. Womenmarched through those doors. Latinosmarched through those doors. AsianAmericans, gay Americans, Americans withdisabilities -- they all came through thosedoors. (Applause.) Their endeavors gave theentire South the chance to rise again, not byreasserting the past, but by transcending thepast.

What a glorious thing, Dr. King might say. Andwhat a solemn debt we owe. Which leads usto ask, just how might we repay that debt?

First and foremost, we have to recognize thatone day’s commemoration, no matter howspecial, is not enough. If Selma taught usanything, it’s that our work is never done. TheAmerican experiment in self-government giveswork and purpose to each generation.

Selma teaches us, as well, that action requiresthat we shed our cynicism. For when it comesto the pursuit of justice, we can afford neithercomplacency nor despair.

Just this week, I was asked whether I thoughtthe Department of Justice’s Ferguson report

shows that, with respect to race, little haschanged in this country. And I understood thequestion; the report’s narrative was sadlyfamiliar. It evoked the kind of abuse anddisregard for citizens that spawned the CivilRights Movement. But I rejected the notionthat nothing’s changed. What happened inFerguson may not be unique, but it’s no longerendemic. It’s no longer sanctioned by law orby custom. And before the Civil RightsMovement, it most surely was.

We do a disservice to the cause of justice byintimating that bias and discrimination areimmutable, that racial division is inherent toAmerica. If you think nothing’s changed in thepast 50 years, ask somebody who livedthrough the Selma or Chicago or Los Angelesof the 1950s. Ask the female CEO who oncemight have been assigned to the secretarialpool if nothing’s changed. Ask your gay friendif it’s easier to be out and proud in Americanow than it was thirty years ago. To deny thisprogress, this hard-won progress -– ourprogress –- would be to rob us of our ownagency, our own capacity, our responsibility todo what we can to make America better.

Of course, a more common mistake is tosuggest that Ferguson is an isolated incident;that racism is banished; that the work thatdrew men and women to Selma is nowcomplete, and that whatever racial tensionsremain are a consequence of those seeking toplay the “race card” for their own purposes. We don’t need the Ferguson report to knowthat’s not true. We just need to open our eyes,and our ears, and our hearts to know that thisnation’s racial history still casts its long shadowupon us.

We know the march is not yet over. We knowthe race is not yet won. We know thatreaching that blessed destination where we arejudged, all of us, by the content of ourcharacter requires admitting as much, facingup to the truth. “We are capable of bearing agreat burden,” James Baldwin once wrote,“once we discover that the burden is realityand arrive where reality is.”

There’s nothing America can’t handle if weactually look squarely at the problem. And thisis work for all Americans, not just some. Notjust whites. Not just blacks. If we want tohonor the courage of those who marched thatday, then all of us are called to possess theirmoral imagination. All of us will need to feel asthey did the fierce urgency of now. All of usneed to recognize as they did that changedepends on our actions, on our attitudes, thethings we teach our children. And if we makesuch an effort, no matter how hard it maysometimes seem, laws can be passed, andconsciences can be stirred, and consensus canbe built.

With such an effort, we can make sure ourcriminal justice system serves all and not justsome. Together, we can raise the level ofmutual trust that policing is built on –- the idea

that police officers are members of thecommunity they risk their lives to protect, andcitizens in Ferguson and New York andCleveland, they just want the same thing youngpeople here marched for 50 years ago -– theprotection of the law. (Applause.) Together,we can address unfair sentencing andovercrowded prisons, and the stuntedcircumstances that rob too many boys of thechance to become men, and rob the nation oftoo many men who could be good dads, andgood workers, and good neighbors.

With effort, we can roll back poverty and theroadblocks to opportunity. Americans don’taccept a free ride for anybody, nor do webelieve in equality of outcomes. But we doexpect equal opportunity. And if we reallymean it, if we’re not just giving lip service to it,but if we really mean it and are willing tosacrifice for it, then, yes, we can make sureevery child gets an education suitable to thisnew century, one that expands imaginationsand lifts sights and gives those children theskills they need. We can make sure everyperson willing to work has the dignity of a job,and a fair wage, and a real voice, and sturdierrungs on that ladder into the middle class.

And with effort, we can protect the foundationstone of our democracy for which so manymarched across this bridge –- and that is theright to vote. (Applause.) Right now, in 2015,50 years after Selma, there are laws across thiscountry designed to make it harder for peopleto vote. As we speak, more of such laws arebeing proposed. Meanwhile, the Voting RightsAct, the culmination of so much blood, somuch sweat and tears, the product of so muchsacrifice in the face of wanton violence, theVoting Rights Act stands weakened, its futuresubject to political rancor.

How can that be? The Voting Rights Act wasone of the crowning achievements of ourdemocracy, the result of Republican andDemocratic efforts. (Applause.) PresidentReagan signed its renewal when he was inoffice. President George W. Bush signed itsrenewal when he was in office. (Applause.) One hundred members of Congress have comehere today to honor people who were willingto die for the right to protect it. If we want tohonor this day, let that hundred go back toWashington and gather four hundred more,and together, pledge to make it their missionto restore that law this year. That’s how wehonor those on this bridge.

Of course, our democracy is not the task ofCongress alone, or the courts alone, or eventhe President alone. If every new voter-suppression law was struck down today, wewould still have, here in America, one of thelowest voting rates among free peoples. Fiftyyears ago, registering to vote here in Selmaand much of the South meant guessing thenumber of jellybeans in a jar, the number ofbubbles on a bar of soap. It meant risking yourdignity, and sometimes, your life.

What’s our excuse today for not voting? Howdo we so casually discard the right for whichso many fought? (Applause.) How do we sofully give away our power, our voice, in shapingAmerica’s future? Why are we pointing tosomebody else when we could take the timejust to go to the polling places? (Applause.) We give away our power.

Fellow marchers, so much has changed in 50years. We have endured war and we’vefashioned peace. We’ve seen technologicalwonders that touch every aspect of our lives. We take for granted conveniences that ourparents could have scarcely imagined. Butwhat has not changed is the imperative ofcitizenship; that willingness of a 26-year-olddeacon, or a Unitarian minister, or a youngmother of five to decide they loved thiscountry so much that they’d risk everything torealize its promise.

That’s what it means to love America. That’swhat it means to believe in America. That’swhat it means when we say America isexceptional.

For we were born of change. We broke the oldaristocracies, declaring ourselves entitled notby bloodline, but endowed by our Creator withcertain inalienable rights. We secure our rightsand responsibilities through a system of self-government, of and by and for the people. That’s why we argue and fight with so muchpassion and conviction -- because we knowour efforts matter. We know America is whatwe make of it.

Look at our history. We are Lewis and Clarkand Sacajawea, pioneers who braved theunfamiliar, followed by a stampede of farmersand miners, and entrepreneurs and hucksters. That’s our spirit. That’s who we are.

We are Sojourner Truth and Fannie Lou Hamer,women who could do as much as any man andthen some. And we’re Susan B. Anthony, whoshook the system until the law reflected thattruth. That is our character.

We’re the immigrants who stowed away onships to reach these shores, the huddledmasses yearning to breathe free –- Holocaustsurvivors, Soviet defectors, the Lost Boys ofSudan. We’re the hopeful strivers who crossthe Rio Grande because we want our kids toknow a better life. That’s how we came to be.

We’re the slaves who built the White Houseand the economy of the South. (Applause.) We’re the ranch hands and cowboys whoopened up the West, and countless laborerswho laid rail, and raised skyscrapers, andorganized for workers’ rights.

We’re the fresh-faced GIs who fought toliberate a continent. And we’re the TuskeegeeAirmen, and the Navajo code-talkers, and theJapanese Americans who fought for thiscountry even as their own liberty had been

denied.

We’re the firefighters who rushed into thosebuildings on 9/11, the volunteers who signed upto fight in Afghanistan and Iraq. We’re the gayAmericans whose blood ran in the streets ofSan Francisco and New York, just as blood randown this bridge.

We are storytellers, writers, poets, artists whoabhor unfairness, and despise hypocrisy, andgive voice to the voiceless, and tell truths thatneed to be told.

We’re the inventors of gospel and jazz andblues, bluegrass and country, and hip-hop androck and roll, and our very own sound with allthe sweet sorrow and reckless joy of freedom.

We are Jackie Robinson, enduring scorn andspiked cleats and pitches coming straight tohis head, and stealing home in the WorldSeries anyway. (Applause.)

We are the people Langston Hughes wrote ofwho “build our temples for tomorrow, strongas we know how.” We are the people Emersonwrote of, “who for truth and honor’s sake standfast and suffer long;” who are “never tired, solong as we can see far enough.”

That’s what America is. Not stock photos orairbrushed history, or feeble attempts to definesome of us as more American than others. (Applause.) We respect the past, but we don’tpine for the past. We don’t fear the future; wegrab for it. America is not some fragile thing. We are large, in the words of Whitman,containing multitudes. We are boisterous anddiverse and full of energy, perpetually young inspirit. That’s why someone like John Lewis atthe ripe old age of 25 could lead a mightymarch.

And that’s what the young people here todayand listening all across the country must takeaway from this day. You are America. Unconstrained by habit and convention. Unencumbered by what is, because you’reready to seize what ought to be.

For everywhere in this country, there are firststeps to be taken, there’s new ground to cover,there are more bridges to be crossed. And it isyou, the young and fearless at heart, the mostdiverse and educated generation in our history,who the nation is waiting to follow.

Because Selma shows us that America is notthe project of any one person. Because thesingle-most powerful word in our democracy isthe word “We.” “We The People.” “We ShallOvercome.” “Yes We Can.” (Applause.) Thatword is owned by no one. It belongs toeveryone. Oh, what a glorious task we aregiven, to continually try to improve this greatnation of ours.

Fifty years from Bloody Sunday, our march is

not yet finished, but we’re getting closer. Twohundred and thirty-nine years after thisnation’s founding our union is not yet perfect,but we are getting closer. Our job’s easierbecause somebody already got us throughthat first mile. Somebody already got us overthat bridge. When it feels the road is too hard,when the torch we’ve been passed feels tooheavy, we will remember these early travelers,and draw strength from their example, andhold firmly the words of the prophet Isaiah: “Those who hope in the Lord will renew theirstrength. They will soar on [the] wings likeeagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not be faint.”

We honor those who walked so we could run. We must run so our children soar. And we willnot grow weary. For we believe in the powerof an awesome God, and we believe in thiscountry’s sacred promise.

May He bless those warriors of justice nolonger with us, and bless the United States ofAmerica. Thank you, everybody.