ship to study in a magical place： America； which stood as a beacon of freedom and opportunity to so many who had e before。 While studying here； my father met my mother。 She was born in a town on the other side of the world； in Kansas。 Her father worked on oil rigs and farms through most of the Depression。 The day after Pearl Harbor he signed up for duty； joined Patton's army and marched across Europe。 Back home； my grandmother raised their baby and went to work on a bomber assembly line。 After the war； they studied on the GI Bill； bought a house through FHA； and moved west in search of opportunity。
And they； too； had big dreams for their daughter； a mon dream； born of two continents。 My parents shared not only an improbable love； they shared an abiding faith in the possibilities of this nation。 They would give me an African name； Barack； or 〃blessed；〃 believing that in a tolerant America your name is no barrier to success。 They imagined me going to the best schools in the land； even though they weren't rich； because in a generous America you don't have to be rich to achieve your potential。 They are both passed away now。 Yet； I know that； on this night； they look down on me with pride。
I stand here today； grateful for the diversity of my heritage； aware that my parents' dreams live on in my precious daughters。 I stand here knowing that my story is part of the larger American story； that I owe a debt to all of those who came before me； and that； in no other countr