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