this was the moment … this was the place … where America remembered what it means to hope。
For many months； we've been teased； even derided for talking about hope。
But we always knew that hope is not blind optimism。 It's not ignoring the enormity of the task ahead or the roadblocks that stand in our path。 It's not sitting on the sidelines or shirking from a fight。 Hope is that thing inside us that insists； despite all evidence to the contrary； that something better awaits us if we have the courage to reach for it； and to work for it； and to fight for it。
Hope is what I saw in the eyes of the young woman in Cedar Rapids who works the night shift after a full day of college and still can't afford health care for a sister who's ill； a young woman who still believes that this country will give her the chance to live out her dreams。
Hope is what I heard in the voice of the New Hampshire woman who told me that she hasn't been able to breathe since her nephew left for Iraq； who still goes to bed each night praying for his safe return。
Hope is what led a band of colonists to rise up against an empire； what led the greatest of generations to free a continent and heal a nation； what led young women and young men to sit at lunch counters and brave fire hoses and march through Selma and Montgomery for freedom's cause。
Hope…hope…is what led me here today … with a father from Kenya； a mother from Kansas； and a story that could only happen in the U