Over the past few years as First Lady, I have had the extraordinary privilege of traveling all across this country.
And everywhere I’ve gone, in the people I’ve met, and the stories I’ve heard, I have seen the very best of the American spirit.
I have seen it in the incredible kindness and warmth that people have shown me and my family, especially our girls.
I’ve seen it in teachers in a near-bankrupt school district who vowed to keep teaching without pay.
I’ve seen it in people who become heroes at a moment’s notice, diving into harm’s way to save others…flying across the country to put out a fire…driving for hours to bail out a flooded town.
And I’ve seen it in our men and women in uniform and our proud military families…in wounded warriors who tell me they’re not just going to walk again, they’re going to run, and they’re going to run marathons…in the young man blinded by a bomb in Afghanistan who said, simply, “…I’d give my eyes 100 times again to have the chance to do what I have done and what I can still do.”
Every day, the people I meet inspire me…every day, they make me proud…every day they remind me how blessed we are to live in the greatest nation on earth.
Serving as your First Lady is an honor and a privilege…but back when we first came together four years ago, I still had some concerns about this journey we’d begun.
While I believed deeply in my husband’s vision for this country…and I was certain he would make an extraordinary President…like any mother, I was worried about what it would mean for our girls if he got that chance.
How would we keep them grounded under the glare of the national spotlight?
How would they feel being uprooted from their school, their friends, and the only home they’d ever known?
Our life before moving to Washington was filled with simple joys…Saturdays at soccer games, Sundays at grandma’s house…and a date night for Barack and me was either dinner or a movie, because as an exhausted mom, I couldn’t stay awake for both.
And the truth is, I loved the life we had built for our girls…I deeply loved the man I had built that life with…and I didn’t want that to change if he became President.
I loved Barack just the way he was.
You see, even though back then Barack was a Senator and a presidential candidate…to me, he was still the guy who’d picked me up for our dates in a car that was so rusted out, I could actually see the pavement going by through a hole in the passenger side door…he was the guy whose proudest possession was a coffee table he’d found in a dumpster, and whose only pair of decent shoes was half a size too small.
But when Barack started telling me about his family – that’s when I knew I had found a kindred spirit, someone whose values and upbringing were so much like mine.
You see, Barack and I were both raised by families who didn’t have much in the way of money or material possessions but who had given us something far more valuable – their unconditional love, their unflinching sacrifice, and the chance to go places they had never imagined for themselves.
My father was a pump operator at the city water plant, and he was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis when my brother and I were young.
And even as a kid, I knew there were plenty of days when he was in pain…I knew there were plenty of mornings when it was a struggle for him to simply get out of bed.
But every morning, I watched my father wake up with a smile, grab his walker, prop himself up against the bathroom sink, and slowly shave and button his uniform.
And when he returned home after a long day’s work, my brother and I would stand at the top of the stairs to our little apartment, patiently waiting to greet him…watching as he reached down to lift one leg, and then the other, to slowly climb his way into our arms.
But despite these challenges, my dad hardly ever missed a day of work…he and my mom were determined to give me and my brother the kind of education they could only dream of.
And when my brother and I finally made it to college, nearly all of our tuition came from student loans and grants.
But my dad still had to pay a tiny portion of that tuition himself.
And every semester, he was determined to pay that bill right on time, even taking out loans when he fell short.
He was so proud to be sending his kids to college…and he made sure we never missed a registration deadline because his check was late.
You see, for my dad, that’s what it meant to be a man.
Like so many of us, that was the measure of his success in life – being able to earn a decent living that allowed him to support his family.
And as I got to know Barack, I realized that even though he’d grown up all the way across the country, he’d been brought up just like me.
Barack was raised by a single mother who struggled to pay the bills, and by grandparents who stepped in when she needed help.
Barack’s grandmother started out as a secretary at a community bank…and she moved quickly up the ranks…but like so many women, she hit a glass ceiling.
And for years, men no more qualified than she was – men she had actually trained – were promoted up the ladder ahead of her, earning more and more money while Barack’s family continued to scrape by.
But day after day, she kept on waking up at dawn to catch the bus…arriving at work before anyone else…giving her best without complaint or regret.
And she would often tell Barack, “So long as you kids do well, Bar, that’s all that really matters.”
Like so many American families, our families weren’t asking for much.
They didn’t begrudge anyone else’s success or care that others had much more than they did...in fact, they admired it.
They simply believed in that fundamental American promise that, even if you don’t start out with much, if you work hard and do what you’re supposed to do, then you should be able to build a decent life for yourself and an even better life for your kids and grandkids.
That’s how they raised us…that’s what we learned from their example.
We learned about dignity and decency – that how hard you work matters more than how much you make…that helping others means more than just getting ahead yourself.
We learned about honesty and integrity – that the truth matters…that you don’t take shortcuts or play by your own set of rules…and success doesn’t count unless you earn it fair and square.
We learned about gratitude and humility – that so many people had a hand in our success, from the teachers who inspired us to the janitors who kept our school clean…and we were taught to value everyone’s contribution and treat everyone with respect.
Those are the values Barack and I – and so many of you – are trying to pass on to our own children.
That’s who we are.
And standing before you four years ago, I knew that I didn’t want any of that to change if Barack became President.
Well, today, after so many struggles and triumphs and moments that have tested my husband in ways I never could have imagined, I have seen firsthand that being president doesn’t change who you are – it reveals who you are.
You see, I’ve gotten to see up close and personal what being president really looks like.
And I’ve seen how the issues that come across a President’s desk are always the hard ones – the problems where no amount of data or numbers will get you to the right answer…the judgment calls where the stakes are so high, and there is no margin for error.
And as President, you can get all kinds of advice from all kinds of people.
But at the end of the day, when it comes time to make that decision, as President, all you have to guide you are your values, and your vision, and the life experiences that make you who you are.
So when it comes to rebuilding our economy, Barack is thinking about folks like my dad and like his grandmother.
He’s thinking about the pride that comes from a hard day’s work.
That’s why he signed the Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act to help women get equal pay for equal work.
That’s why he cut taxes for working families and small businesses and fought to get the auto industry back on its feet.
That’s how he brought our economy from the brink of collapse to creating jobs again – jobs you can raise a family on, good jobs right here in the United States of America.
When it comes to the health of our families, Barack refused to listen to all those folks who told him to leave health reform for another day, another president.
He didn’t care whether it was the easy thing to do politically – that’s not how he was raised – he cared that it was the right thing to do.
He did it because he believes that here in America, our grandparents should be able to afford their medicine…our kids should be able to see a doctor when they’re sick…and no one in this country should ever go broke because of an accident or illness.
And he believes that women are more than capable of making our own choices about our bodies and our health care…that’s what my husband stands for.
When it comes to giving our kids the education they deserve, Barack knows that like me and like so many of you, he never could’ve attended college without financial aid.
And believe it or not, when we were first married, our combined monthly student loan bills were actually higher than our mortgage.
We were so young, so in love, and so in debt.
That’s why Barack has fought so hard to increase student aid and keep interest rates down, because he wants every young person to fulfill their promise and be able to attend college without a mountain of debt.
So in the end, for Barack, these issues aren’t political – they’re personal.
Because Barack knows what it means when a family struggles.
He knows what it means to want something more for your kids and grandkids.
Barack knows the American Dream because he’s lived it…and he wants everyone in this country to have that same opportunity, no matter who we are, or where we’re from, or what we look like, or who we love.
And he believes that when you’ve worked hard, and done well, and walked through that doorway of opportunity…you do not slam it shut behind you…you reach back, and you give other folks the same chances that helped you succeed.
So when people ask me whether being in the White House has changed my husband, I can honestly say that when it comes to his character, and his convictions, and his heart, Barack Obama is still the same man I fell in love with all those years ago.
He’s the same man who started his career by turning down high paying jobs and instead working in struggling neighborhoods where a steel plant had shut down, fighting to rebuild those communities and get folks back to work…because for Barack, success isn’t about how much money you make, it’s about the difference you make in people’s lives.
He’s the same man who, when our girls were first born, would anxiously check their cribs every few minutes to ensure they were still breathing, proudly showing them off to everyone we knew.
That’s the man who sits down with me and our girls for dinner nearly every night, patiently answering their questions about issues in the news, and strategizing about middle school friendships.
That’s the man I see in those quiet moments late at night, hunched over his desk, poring over the letters people have sent him.
The letter from the father struggling to pay his bills…from the woman dying of cancer whose insurance company won’t cover her care…from the young person with so much promise but so few opportunities.
I see the concern in his eyes...and I hear the determination in his voice as he tells me, “You won’t believe what these folks are going through, Michelle…it’s not right. We’ve got to keep working to fix this. We’ve got so much more to do.”
I see how those stories – our collection of struggles and hopes and dreams – I see how that’s what drives Barack Obama every single day.
And I didn’t think it was possible, but today, I love my husband even more than I did four years ago…even more than I did 23 years ago, when we first met.
I love that he’s never forgotten how he started.
I love that we can trust Barack to do what he says he’s going to do, even when it’s hard – especially when it’s hard.
I love that for Barack, there is no such thing as “us” and “them” – he doesn’t care whether you’re a Democrat, a Republican, or none of the above…he knows that we all love our country…and he’s always ready to listen to good ideas…he’s always looking for the very best in everyone he meets.
And I love that even in the toughest moments, when we’re all sweating it – when we’re worried that the bill won’t pass, and it seems like all is lost – Barack never lets himself get distracted by the chatter and the noise.
Just like his grandmother, he just keeps getting up and moving forward…with patience and wisdom, and courage and grace.
And he reminds me that we are playing a long game here…and that change is hard, and change is slow, and it never happens all at once.
But eventually we get there, we always do.
We get there because of folks like my Dad…folks like Barack’s grandmother…men and women who said to themselves, “I may not have a chance to fulfill my dreams, but maybe my children will…maybe my grandchildren will.”
So many of us stand here tonight because of their sacrifice, and longing, and steadfast love…because time and again, they swallowed their fears and doubts and did what was hard.
So today, when the challenges we face start to seem overwhelming – or even impossible – let us never forget that doing the impossible is the history of this nation…it’s who we are as Americans…it’s how this country was built.
And if our parents and grandparents could toil and struggle for us…if they could raise beams of steel to the sky, send a man to the moon, and connect the world with the touch of a button…then surely we can keep on sacrificing and building for our own kids and grandkids.
And if so many brave men and women could wear our country’s uniform and sacrifice their lives for our most fundamental rights…then surely we can do our part as citizens of this great democracy to exercise those rights…surely, we can get to the polls and make our voices heard on Election Day.
If farmers and blacksmiths could win independence from an empire…if immigrants could leave behind everything they knew for a better life on our shores…if women could be dragged to jail for seeking the vote…if a generation could defeat a depression, and define greatness for all time…if a young preacher could lift us to the mountaintop with his righteous dream…and if proud Americans can be who they are and boldly stand at the altar with who they love…then surely, surely we can give everyone in this country a fair chance at that great American Dream.
Because in the end, more than anything else, that is the story of this country – the story of unwavering hope grounded in unyielding struggle.
That is what has made my story, and Barack’s story, and so many other American stories possible.
And I say all of this tonight not just as First Lady…and not just as a wife.
You see, at the end of the day, my most important title is still “mom-in-chief.”
My daughters are still the heart of my heart and the center of my world.
But today, I have none of those worries from four years ago about whether Barack and I were doing what’s best for our girls.
Because today, I know from experience that if I truly want to leave a better world for my daughters, and all our sons and daughters…if we want to give all our children a foundation for their dreams and opportunities worthy of their promise…if we want to give them that sense of limitless possibility – that belief that here in America, there is always something better out there if you’re willing to work for it…then we must work like never before…and we must once again come together and stand together for the man we can trust to keep moving this great country forward…my husband, our President, President Barack Obama.
《Great By Choice》作者Jim Collins，在全美24000家企業當中，找出7家效率遠超越對手10倍的企業，並用上了九年時間，研究和分析這些企業的管理者，其中一個值得參考的結論：「創意非王牌，10倍效率企業並不特別富創意，但他們善於把創新系統化、規模化，善於結合創意和紀律，其間要下苦功，成功非僥倖。」
“August Landmesser (1910 – presumably killed February 1944) was a worker at the Blohm + Voss shipyard in Hamburg, Germany. He appeared in a photograph refusing to perform the Nazi salute at the launch of the naval training vessel Horst Wessel on 13 June 1936.
曾讀過司馬中原的小說《焚圖記》，說是某大官想名垂靑史，軟硬兼施找來一位以“諍諍鐵筆”而知名的畫家，令其繪幅英勇畫像流傳後世。但畫家不畏強權，攜妻連夜逃往邊城，遇上敵兵千軍萬馬殺進來的當口，將其在前線親見的眞英雄畫在紙上。“The pen is mightier than the sword”，因為筆的力量不僅在於它能描繪圖畫、撰寫文章，而是我們能透過它守護記憶、傳承歷史。“糞土當年萬戶侯”，不管你曾經歷怎樣的一時榮光或莫名恥辱，終會被擺在歷史的放大鏡下，被後人評功論過。所以說，文創產業何止離不開政治，根本文創產業本身就是政治：從《白宮群英》(The West Wing)到《昂山素姬》(The Lady)，從《絕望的眞相》(An Inconvenient Truth)到《華氏911》（Fahrenheit 9/11），為數衆多的文化產品將焦點鎖定於政治議題，創作人從社會、歷史、政治中汲取養分，用一支筆創作出令人難忘的歷史畫面，更不無滲透着創作者的政治思考。
《白》的故事令人窩心，舞台演出亦創意滿溢，但最令人驚嘆的，還是簡約表面下饒有深意的“公民敎育”意涵：兩個朋友努力維持白色世界的純粹性，其中一位更狠心將非白色的紅色蛋扔進垃圾桶，但富同情心的另一朋友偸偸將紅色蛋救出，細心照顧，因為不論顏色，每個蛋裡都有一個小生命，而每一個生命都應受到關懷照顧——“All life are born equal”這一核心價値在每個大小朋友眼裡都順理成章。事實上，現場當紅色蛋被扔進垃圾桶的一刻，不少小朋友緊張地大叫起來，對於生命的平等尊重，原就是每個人與生俱來的本能。雖然，在種族問題複雜的英國社會，我們可為“白色蛋”和“顏色蛋”加入“白色人種”和“有色人種”的象徵詮釋，但此意涵還可拓得更深更遠，更進一步引導我們思考社會應該（以及如何）接受“單一”或“多元”的價値思考。最後，當“白雪雪”世界變得色彩繽紛起來，全場氣氛也達到高潮，小朋友們興奮地追逐、分享漫天滿地的彩色紙條，和演員玩成一片，還有甚麼“公民敎育”比起這個更快樂、更自然？
《凝》的內容不少來自幾位演員的眞實生活，在喃喃細語和舉手投足之間，張健嫻、馮曉華、關若斐、林詠欣四人更淡定自如，也許因為此時此刻的“表演”已不再是平常意義上的表演，而是一種內心的抒發，源自對生命的領悟、源自對生活的觀察、源自對空間的感受。凝視流動，其實混合了兩種狀態——靜止與流動——的相互對比觀照，但我們在演出所見，更多卻是有關“流動”的意象：電視熒幕上街道川流不息的汽車機車、從地上到身上再到牆上不斷延伸遊走的粉筆線、水管裡流動不止的流水、投射在牆上幕上的不斷翻滾游移的白雲，以及散落一地滾動不止的玻璃珠……演員的互相追逐，重重摔倒、爬起，地上扭動的身體抹去粉筆留下的痕跡，均令觀者深深感受到那些年輕軀體裡的血脈賁張。《凝視流動》雖是從一群女孩子對生活、生命的感知和思考出發，但內裡其實也呈現了人與城市的關聯與互動，故這種對“流動”的“凝視”，就不僅是從個人的角度出發，更具某種跨越時空的維度。雖然《凝視流動》之後轉赴台北牯嶺街小劇場演出（演出在台引發不少關注，演後評論文章也為數不少，亦從另一角度突顯澳門藝評作品以及風氣之單薄），但無疑澳門版本具有無法複製的特別韻味：這場算是石頭吿別會址的演出，在澳門上演的版本將原本屬於空間的靜止、凝固的性質扭轉。恰如演出英譯“Something between nothing and everything”遙相呼應狄更斯《雙城記》裡的曠古名句“We had everything before us, we had nothing before us”（我們前面包羅萬有，我們前面一無所有），也似在拷問我們這些大時代之下的小人物的得與失——坐落於澳門舊區的這棟建築，和澳門大部分街區一樣，似乎永遠處於某種“時間凝固”的狀態，但原來近年城市面對的劇烈發展變遷，也不知不覺地擴散到每一個人、每一棟建築的身上，原本一直在默然凝視周遭人與事流轉變遷的這棟舊建築，卻身不由己地也要在時代大潮下隨波逐流，如今更“返番轉頭”，被眼前一大群流動的觀衆所凝視，而在“凝視”與“流動”之間，我們又發出過怎樣的聲音？提煉出怎樣的感受？但無論如何，我們總算有幸來見證這班棱角分明的“石仔”這一次用生命演繹故事，不妨也嘗試在自己腦海流動的記憶裡，留下這一份誠摯的感動罷！
香港劇場空間早前四度公演Reginald Rose名劇《十二怒漢》(Twelve Angry Men)：一少年被控謀殺生父吿上法庭，所有證詞證據皆對其不利，十二位陪審團成員聆訊後齊聚休息室商討是否該判少年死刑。陪審員有的看那少年不順眼，也有的早有先入為主偏見，還有的但求快點搞掂收工……首輪投票結果11:1——只有八號陪審員提出“非主流”異議。有趣場面發生在投票之後，一陪審員說，“Oh! Boy, there is always one.”是的，不管怎樣的選舉投票機制，總有反對派出現，哪怕那個數字只是“1”。“What we do now?”另一個不耐煩的陪審員問。“I guess we talk?”八號陪審員這樣回應。所幸有制度保障，其他陪審員再不滿也不能“大石砸死蟹”，大家於是坐下來“talk”，抽絲剝繭，辯論交鋒，八號陪審員一票一票扳回來，終將“非主流”變成“主流”。
