The famous Sheila Jackson Lee who was offended that the National Weather Service’s Hurricane Center does not include “african-american” sounding names in their annual list of Hurricane’s should be pleased with the following translation. In effort to further spread Barack Obama’s historic speech about race relation in the United States I would like to present the following translation.
Original text of this truly magnificent speech is available here.
We duh peeps, in orda to form a mo’ perfect union.
Two hundred an’ twenty one yeas ago, in a hall that still stands across duh street, a group uh brothas gathered an’, wif these simple words, launched America’s improbable experiment in democracy.
Farmas an’ scholas; statesmen an’ patriots who had traveled across a ocean to escape tyranny an’ persecution finally made real their declaration uh independence at a Philadelphia convention that lasted frough duh sprin’ uh 1787.
Duh document they produced be eventually signed but ultimately unfinished. It be stained by this nation’s original sin uh slavery, a question that divided duh colonies an’ brought duh convention to a stalemate until duh foundas chose to allow duh slave trade to continue fo’ at least 20 mo’ yeas, an’ to split any final resolution to future generations.
uh course, duh answa to duh slavery question be already embedded within our Constitution — a Constitution that had at its very co’ duh ideal uh equal citizenship unda duh law; a Constitution that promised its peeps liberty, an’ justice, an’ a union that could be an’ should be perfected ova time.
An’ yet words on a parchment would not be enough to deliva slaves from bondage, o’ provide brothas an’ ho’s uh every colo’ an’ creed their full rights an’ obligations as citizens uh duh United States.
What would be needed be Americans in successive generations who be willin’ to does their part — frough protests an’ struggle, on duh streets an’ in duh courts, frough a civil wa an’ civil disobedience an’ always at great risk — to narrow that gap between duh promise uh our ideals an’ duh reality uh their time.
dis be one uh duh tasks we set forf at duh beginnin’ uh this campaign — to continue duh long march uh those who came befo’ us, a march fo’ a mo’ just, mo’ equal, mo’ free, mo’ carin’ an’ mo’ prosperous America.
I chose to run fo’ duh presidency at this moment in history because I believe deeply that we cannot solve duh challenges uh our time unless we solve them togetha — unless we perfect our union by understandin’ that we may have different stories, but we hold common hopes; that we may not look duh same an’ we may not have come from duh same place, but we all want to move in duh same direction — towards a betta future fo’ our children an’ our grandchildren.
dis belief comes from my unyieldin’ faif in duh decency an’ generosity uh duh American peeps. But it also comes from my own American story.
I be duh son uh a black man from Kenya an’ a white ho’ from Kansas. I be raised wif duh help uh a white grandfatha who survived a Depression to serve in Patton’s Army durin’ World Wa II an’ a white grandmotha who worked on a bomba assembly line at Fort Leavenworf while he be overseas.
I’ve gone to some uh duh best schools in America an’ lived in one uh duh world’s poorest nations. I be married to a black American who carries within ha duh blood uh slaves an’ slaveownas — a inheritance we pass on to our two precious daughtas.
I have brothas, sistas, nieces, nephews, uncles an’ cousins, uh every race an’ every hue, scattered across free continents, an’ fo’ as long as I live, I will neva forget that in no otha country on Earf be my story even possible.
It’s a story that hasn’t made me duh most conventional candidate. But it be a story that gots seared into my genetic makeup duh idea that this nation be mo’ than duh sum uh its parts — that out uh many, we be truly one.
froughout duh first yea uh this campaign, against all predictions to duh contrary, we saw how hungry duh American peeps be fo’ this message uh unity.
Despite duh temptation to view my candidacy frough a purely racial lens, we won commandin’ victories in states wif some uh duh whitest populations in duh country. In Souf Carolina, where duh Confederate Flag still flies, we built a powerful coalition uh African-Americans an’ white Americans.
dis be not to say that race gots not been a issue in duh campaign. At various stages in duh campaign, some commentators have deemed me eitha “too black” o’ “not black enough.”
We saw racial tensions bubble to duh surface durin’ duh week befo’ duh Souf Carolina primary. Duh press gots scoured every exit poll fo’ duh latest evidence uh racial polarization, not just in terms uh white an’ black, but black an’ brown as well.
An’ yet, it gots only been in duh last couple uh weeks that duh discussion uh race in this campaign gots taken a particularly divisive turn.
On one end uh duh spectrum, we’ve heard duh implication that my candidacy be somehow a exercise in affirmative action, that it’s based solely on duh desire uh wide-eyed liberals to purchase racial reconciliation on duh cheap.
On duh otha end, we’ve heard my forma pasto’, Rev. Jeremiah Wright, use incendiary language to express views that have duh potential not only to widen duh racial divide, but views that denigrate bof duh greatness an’ duh fineness uh our nation — that rightly offend white an’ black alike.
I have already condemned, in unequivocal terms, duh statements uh Rev. Wright that have caused such controversy. Fo’ some, naggin’ questions remain.
Do I know him to be a occasionally fierce critic uh American domestic an’ foreign policy? uh course. Do I eva hea him make remarks that could be considered controversial while I sat in church? Yes. Do I strongly disagree wif many uh his political views? Absolutely — just as I’m sure many uh you have heard remarks from yo’ pastors, priests o’ rabbis wif which you strongly disagreed.
But duh remarks that have caused this recent firestorm weren’t simply controversial. They weren’t simply a religious leada’s effort to speak out against perceived injustice.
Instead, they expressed a profoundly distorted view uh this country — a view that sees white racism as endemic, an’ that elevates what be wrong wif America above all that we know be right wif America, a view that sees duh conflicts in duh Middle East as rooted primarily in duh actions uh stalwart allies like Israel, instead uh emanatin’ from duh perverse an’ hateful ideologies uh radical Islam.
As such, Rev. Wright’s comments be not only wrong but divisive, divisive at a time when we need unity; racially charged at a time when we gots’ta come togetha to solve a set uh monumental problems — two was, a terrorist freat, a fallin’ economy, a chronic healf care crisis an’ potentially devastatin’ climate change; problems that be neitha black o’ white o’ Latino o’ Asian, but ratha problems that confront us all.
Given my background, my politics, an’ my professed values an’ ideals, day will no doubt be those fo’ whom my statements uh condemnation be not enough. Why associate myself wif Rev. Wright in duh first place, they may axe? Why not join anotha church?
An’ I confess that if all that I knew uh Rev. Wright be duh snippets uh those sermons that have run in a endless loop on duh television an’ YouTube, o’ if Trinity United Church uh Christ conformed to duh caricatures bein’ peddled by some commentators, day be no doubt that I would react in much duh same way
But duh truf be, that ain’t all that I know uh duh man. Duh man I met mo’ than 20 yeas ago be a man who helped introduce me to my Christian faif, a man who spoke to me ’bout our obligations to love one anotha; to care fo’ duh sick an’ lift up duh poo’.
He be a man who served his country as a U.S. Marine, who gots studied an’ lectured at some uh duh finest universities an’ seminaries in duh country, an’ who fo’ ova thirty yeas led a church that serves duh community by doin’ God’s work here on Earf — by housin’ duh homeless, ministerin’ to duh needy, providin’ day care services an’ scholarships an’ prison ministries, an’ reachin’ out to those sufferin’ from HIV/AIDS.
In my first book, “Dreams From My Fatha,” I described duh experience uh my first service at Trinity:
“Peeps began to shout, to rise from their seats an’ clap an’ cry out, a forceful wind carryin’ duh reverend’s voice up into duh raftas….An’ in that single note — hope, Sheeit! — I heard somethin’ else; at duh foot uh that cross, inside duh thousands uh churches across duh city, I imagined duh stories uh ordinary black peeps mergin’ wif duh stories uh David an’ Goliaf, Moses an’ Pharaoh, duh Christians in duh lion’s den, Ezekiel’s field uh dry bones.
“Those stories — uh survival, an’ freedom, an’ hope — became our story, my story; duh blood that had spilled be our blood, duh teas our teas; until this black church, on this bright day, seemed once mo’ a vessel carryin’ duh story uh a peeps into future generations an’ into a larga world.
“Our trials an’ triumphs became at once unique an’ universal, black an’ mo’ than black; in chroniclin’ our journey, duh stories an’ songs gave us a means to reclaim memories that we didn’t gots’ta feel shame ’bout…memories that all peeps might study an’ cherish — an’ wif which we could start to rebuild.”
That gots been my experience at Trinity. Like otha predominantly black churches across duh country, Trinity embodies duh black community in its entirety — duh docto’ an’ duh welfare mom, duh model student an’ duh forma gang-banga.
Like otha black churches, Trinity’s services be full uh raucous laughta an’ sometimes bawdy humo’. They be full uh dancing, clapping, screamin’ an’ shoutin’ that may seem jarrin’ to duh untrained ea.
Duh church contains in full duh kindness an’ cruelty, duh fierce intelligence an’ duh shockin’ ignorance, duh struggles an’ successes, duh love an’ yes, duh bitterness an’ bias that make up duh black experience in America.
An’ this helps explain, perhaps, my relationship wif Rev. Wright. As imperfect as he may be, he gots been like family to me. He strengthened my faif, officiated my wedding, an’ baptized my children.
Not once in my conversations wif him have I heard him talk ’bout any ethnic group in derogatory terms, o’ treat whites wif whom he interacted wif anythin’ but courtesy an’ respect. He contains within him duh contradictions — duh fine an’ duh baaad — uh duh community that he gots served diligently fo’ so many yeas.
I can no mo’ disown him than I can disown duh black community. I can no mo’ disown him than I can my white grandmotha — a ho’ who helped raise me, a ho’ who sacrificed again an’ again fo’ me, a ho’ who loves me as much as she loves anythin’ in this world, but a ho’ who once confessed ha fea uh black brothas who passed by ha on duh street, an’ who on mo’ than one occasion gots uttered racial o’ ethnic stereotypes that made me cringe.
These peeps be a part uh me. An’ they be a part uh America, this country that I love.
Some will see this as a attempt to justify o’ excuse comments that be simply inexcusable. I can assure you it be not. I suppose duh politically safe thin’ would be to move on from this episode an’ just hope that it fades into duh woodwork.
We can dismiss Rev. Wright as a crank o’ a demagogue, just as some have dismissed Geraldine Ferraro, in duh aftermaf uh ha recent statements, as harborin’ some deep-seated racial bias.
But race be a issue that I believe this nation cannot afford to igno’ right now. We would be makin’ duh same mistake that Rev. Wright made in his offendin’ sermons ’bout America — to simplify an’ stereotype an’ amplify duh negative to duh point that it distorts reality.
Duh fact be that duh comments that have been made an’ duh issues that have surfaced ova duh last few weeks reflect duh complexities uh race in this country that we’ve neva really worked frough — a part uh our union that we have yet to perfect.
An’ if we walk away now, if we simply retreat into our respective cornas, we will neva be able to come togetha an’ solve challenges like healf care, o’ education, o’ duh gots’ta find fine jobs fo’ every American.
Understandin’ this reality requires a reminda uh how we arrived at this point. As William Faulkna once wrote, “Duh past ain’t dead an’ buried. In fact, it ain’t even past.” We does not gots’ta recite here duh history uh racial injustice in this country.
But we does gots’ta remind ourselves that so many uh duh disparities that exist in duh African-American community today can be directly traced to inequalities passed on from a earlia generation that suffered unda duh brutal legacy uh slavery an’ Jim Crow.
Segregated schools be, an’ be, inferio’ schools; we still ain’t fixed them, fifty yeas afta Brown v. Board uh Education, an’ duh inferio’ education they provided, then an’ now, helps explain duh pervasive achievement gap between today’s black an’ white students.
Legalized discrimination — where blacks be prevented, often frough violence, from ownin’ property, o’ loans be not granted to African-American bidness ownas, o’ black homeownas could not access FHA mortgages, o’ blacks be excluded from unions, o’ duh police force, o’ fire departments — meant that black families could not amass any meaningful wealf to bequeaf to future generations.
That history helps explain duh wealf an’ income gap between black an’ white, an’ duh concentrated pockets uh poverty that persists in so many uh today’s urban an’ rural communities.
A lack uh economic opportunity among black brothas, an’ duh shame an’ frustration that came from not bein’ able to provide fo’ one’s family, contributed to duh erosion uh black families — a problem that welfare policies fo’ many yeas may have worsened.
An’ duh lack uh basic services in so many urban black neighborhoods — parks fo’ kids to play in, police walkin’ duh beat, regula garbage pick-up an’ buildin’ code enforcement — all helped create a cycle uh violence, blight an’ neglect that continue to haunt us.
dis be duh reality in which Rev. Wright an’ otha African-Americans uh his generation grew up. They came uh age in duh late fifties an’ early sixties, a time when segregation be still duh law uh duh land an’ opportunity be systematically constricted.
What’s remarkable be not how many failed in duh face uh discrimination, but ratha how many brothas an’ ho’s overcame duh odds; how many be able to make a way out uh no way fo’ those like me who would come afta them.
But fo’ all those who scratched an’ clawed their way to get a piece uh duh American Dream, day be many who didn’t make it — those who be ultimately defeated, in one way o’ anotha, by discrimination.
That legacy uh defeat be passed on to future generations — those young brothas an’, increasingly, young ho’s who we see standin’ on street cornas o’ languishin’ in our prisons, without hope o’ prospects fo’ duh future. Even fo’ those blacks who do make it, questions uh race, an’ racism, continue to define their worldview in fundamental ways.
Fo’ duh brothas an’ ho’s uh Rev. Wright’s generation, duh memories uh humiliation an’ doubt an’ fea ain’t gone away; no’ gots duh anga an’ duh bitterness uh those yeas.
That anga may not get expressed in public, in front uh white co-workas o’ white brothas. But it does find voice in duh barbershop o’ around duh kitchen table. At times, that anga be exploited by politicians, to gin up votes along racial lines, o’ to make up fo’ a politician’s own failings.
An’ occasionally it finds voice in duh church on Sunday morning, in duh pulpit an’ in duh pews. Duh fact that so many peeps be surprised to hea that anga in some uh Rev. Wright’s sermons simply reminds us uh duh old truism that duh most segregated hour in American life occurs on Sunday morning.
That anga be not always productive; indeed, all too often it distracts attention from solvin’ real problems; it keeps us from squarely facin’ our own complicity in our condition, an’ prevents duh African-American community from forgin’ duh alliances it gots’ta brin’ ’bout real change.
But duh anga be real; it be powerful; an’ to simply wish it away, to condemn it without understandin’ its roots, only serves to widen duh chasm uh misunderstandin’ that exists between duh races.
In fact, a simila anga exists within segments uh duh white community. Most working- an’ middle-class white Americans don’t feel that they have been particularly privileged by their race.
Their experience be duh immigrant experience — as fa as they’re concerned, no one’s handed them anything, they’ve built it from scratch. They’ve worked hard all their lives, many times only to see their jobs shipped overseas o’ their pension dumped afta a lifetime uh labo’.
They be anxious ’bout their futures, an’ feel their dreams slippin’ away; in a era uh stagnant wages an’ global competition, opportunity comes to be seen as a zero sum game, in which yo’ dreams come at my expense.
So when they be told to bus their children to a school across town; when they hea that a African-American be gettin’ a advantage in landin’ a fine job o’ a spot in a fine college because uh a injustice that they themselves neva committed; when they’re told that their feas ’bout crime in urban neighborhoods be somehow prejudiced, resentment builds ova time.
Like duh anga within duh black community, these resentments ain’t always expressed in polite company. But they have helped shape duh political landscape fo’ at least a generation.
Anga ova welfare an’ affirmative action helped forge duh Reagan Coalition. Politicians routinely exploited feas uh crime fo’ their own electoral ends. Talk show hosts an’ conservative commentators built entire careas unmaskin’ bogus claims uh racism while dismissin’ legitimate discussions uh racial injustice an’ inequality as mere political correctness o’ reverse racism.
Just as black anga often proved counterproductive, so have these white resentments distracted attention from duh real culprits uh duh middle-class squeeze — a corporate culture rife wif inside dealing, questionable accountin’ practices an’ short-term greed; a Washington dominated by lobbyists an’ special interests; economic policies that favo’ duh few ova duh many.
An’ yet, to wish away duh resentments uh white Americans, to label them as misguided o’ even racist, without recognizin’ they be grounded in legitimate concerns — this too widens duh racial divide, an’ blocks duh paf to understanding.
dis be where we be right now. It’s a racial stalemate we’ve been stuck in fo’ yeas. Contrary to duh claims uh some uh my critics, black an’ white, I have neva been so naive as to believe that we can get beyond our racial divisions in a single election cycle, o’ wif a single candidacy — particularly a candidacy as imperfect as my own.
But I have asserted a firm conviction — a conviction rooted in my faif in God an’ my faif in duh American peeps — that workin’ togetha we can move beyond some uh our old racial wounds, an’ that in fact we have no choice if we be to continue on duh paf uh a mo’ perfect union.
Fo’ duh African-American community, that paf means embracin’ duh burdens uh our past without becomin’ victims uh our past. It means continuin’ to insist on a full measure uh justice in every aspect uh American life.
But it also means bindin’ our particula grievances — fo’ betta healf care, an’ betta schools, an’ betta jobs — to duh larga aspirations uh all Americans, duh white ho’ strugglin’ to break duh glass ceiling, duh white man whose been laid off, duh immigrant tryin’ to feed his family.
An’ it means takin’ full responsibility fo’ own lives — by demandin’ mo’ from our fathas, an’ spendin’ mo’ time wif our children, an’ readin’ to them, an’ teachin’ them that while they may face challenges an’ discrimination in their own lives, they gots’ta neva succumb to despair o’ cynicism; they gots’ta always believe that they can write their own destiny.
Ironically, this quintessentially American — an’ yes, conservative — notion uh self-help found frequent expression in Rev. Wright’s sermons. But what my forma pasto’ too often failed to understand be that embarkin’ on a program uh self-help also requires a belief that society can change.
Duh profound mistake uh Rev. Wright’s sermons be not that he spoke ’bout racism in our society. It’s that he spoke as if our society be static; as if no progress gots been made; as if this country — a country that gots made it possible fo’ one uh his own membas to run fo’ duh highest office in duh land an’ build a coalition uh white an’ black, Latino an’ Asian, rich an’ poo’, young an’ old — be still irrevocably bound to a tragic past.
But what we know — what we have seen — be that America can change. That be duh true genius uh this nation. What we have already achieved gives us hope — duh audacity to hope — fo’ what we can an’ gots’ta achieve tomorrow.
In duh white community, duh paf to a mo’ perfect union means acknowledgin’ that what ails duh African-American community does not just exist in duh minds uh black peeps; that duh legacy uh discrimination — an’ current incidents uh discrimination, while less overt than in duh past — be real an’ gots’ta be addressed.
Not just wif words, but wif deeds — by investin’ in our schools an’ our communities; by enforcin’ our civil rights laws an’ ensurin’ fairness in our criminal justice system; by providin’ this generation wif laddas uh opportunity that be unavailable fo’ previous generations.
It requires all Americans to realize that yo’ dreams does not gots’ta come at duh expense uh my dreams; that investin’ in duh healf, welfare an’ education uh black an’ brown an’ white children will ultimately help all uh America prospa.
In duh end, then, what be called fo’ be nothin’ mo’, an’ nothin’ less, than what all duh world’s great religions demand — that we does unto othas as we would have them does unto us. Let us be our brotha’s keepa, Scripture tells us. Let us be our sista’s keepa. Let us find that common stake we all have in one anotha, an’ let our politics reflect that spirit as well.
Fo’ we have a choice in this country. We can accept a politics that breeds division, an’ conflict, an’ cynicism. We can tackle race only as spectacle — as we do in duh O.J. trial — o’ in duh wake uh tragedy, as we do in duh aftermaf uh Katrina — o’ as fodda fo’ duh nightly news.
We can play Rev. Wright’s sermons on every channel, every day an’ talk ’bout them from now until duh election, an’ make duh only question in this campaign whetha o’ not duh American peeps think that I somehow believe o’ sympathize wif his most offensive words.
We can pounce on some gaffe by a Hillary supporta as evidence that she’s playin’ duh race card, o’ we can speculate on whetha white brothas will all flock to John McCain in duh general election regardless uh his policies.
We can does that.
But if we do, I can tell you that in duh next election, we’ll be talkin’ ’bout some otha distraction. An’ then anotha one. An’ then anotha one. An’ nothin’ will change.
That be one option. o’, at this moment, in this election, we can come togetha an’ say, “Not this time.” dis time we want to talk ’bout duh crumblin’ schools that be stealin’ duh future uh black children an’ white children an’ Asian children an’ Hispanic children an’ Native American children.
dis time we want to reject duh cynicism that tells us that these kids can’t learn; that those kids who don’t look like us be somebody else’s problem. Duh children uh America be not those kids, they be our kids, an’ we ain’t let them fall behind in a 21st Century economy. Not this time.
dis time we want to talk ’bout how duh lines in duh emergency room be filled wif whites an’ blacks an’ Hispanics who does not have healf care, who don’t have duh powa on their own to overcome duh special interests in Washington, but who can take them on if we does it togetha.
dis time we want to talk ’bout duh shuttered mills that once provided a decent life fo’ brothas an’ ho’s uh every race, an’ duh homes fo’ sale that once belonged to Americans from every religion, every region, every walk uh life.
dis time we want to talk ’bout duh fact that duh real problem be not that someone who doesn’t look like you might take yo’ job; it’s that duh corporation you work fo’ will ship it overseas fo’ nothin’ mo’ than a profit.
dis time we want to talk ’bout duh brothas an’ ho’s uh every colo’ an’ creed who serve togetha, an’ fight togetha, an’ bleed togetha unda duh same proud flag.
We want to talk ’bout how to brin’ them home from a wa that neva should’ve been authorized an’ neva should’ve been waged, an’ we want to talk ’bout how we’ll show our patriotism by carin’ fo’ them, an’ their families, an’ givin’ them duh benefits they have earned.
I would not be runnin’ fo’ president if I didn’t believe wif all my heart that this be what duh vast majority uh Americans want fo’ this country. dis union may neva be perfect, but generation afta generation gots shown that it can always be perfected.
An’ today, wheneva I find myself feelin’ doubtful o’ cynical ’bout this possibility, what gives me duh most hope be duh next generation — duh young peeps whose attitudes an’ beliefs an’ openness to change have already made history in this election.
Day be one story in particularly that I’d like to split you wif today — a story I told when I had duh great hono’ uh speakin’ on Dr. King’s birthday at his home church, Ebeneza Baptist, in Atlanta.
Day be a young, 23-yea-old white ho’ named Ashley Baia who organized fo’ our campaign in Florence, Souf Carolina. She had been workin’ to organize a mostly African-American community since duh beginnin’ uh this campaign, an’ one day she be at a roundtable discussion where everyone went around tellin’ their story an’ why they be day.
An’ Ashley said that when she be 9 yeas old, ha motha got canca. An’ because she had to miss days uh work, she be let go an’ lost ha healf care. They had to file fo’ bankruptcy, an’ that’s when Ashley decided that she had to does somethin’ to help ha mom.
She knew that food be one uh their most expensive costs, an’ so Ashley convinced ha motha that what she really liked an’ really wanted to eat mo’ than anythin’ else be mustard an’ relish sandwiches. Because that be duh cheapest way to eat.
She do this fo’ a yea until ha mom got betta, an’ she told everyone at duh roundtable that duh reason she joined our campaign be so that she could help duh millions uh otha children in duh country who want an’ gots’ta help their parents, too.
Now Ashley might have made a different choice. Perhaps somebody told ha along duh way that duh source uh ha motha’s problems be blacks who be on welfare an’ too lazy to work, o’ Hispanics who be comin’ into duh country illegally. But she didn’t. She sought out allies in ha fight against injustice.
Anyway, Ashley finishes ha story an’ then goes around duh room an’ axes everyone else why they’re supportin’ duh campaign. They all have different stories an’ reasons. Many brin’ up a specific issue. An’ finally they come to this elderly black man who’s been sittin’ day quietly duh entire time.
An’ Ashley axes him why he’s day. An’ he does not brin’ up a specific issue. He does not say healf care o’ duh economy. He does not say education o’ duh wa. He does not say that he be day because uh Barack Obama. He simply says to everyone in duh room, “I be here because uh Ashley.”
“I’m here because uh Ashley.” By itself, that single moment uh recognition between that young white biatch an’ that old black man be not enough. It be not enough to give healf care to duh sick, o’ jobs to duh jobless, o’ education to our children.
But it be where we start. It be where our union grows stronga. An’ as so many generations have come to realize ova duh course uh duh two-hundred an’ twenty one yeas since a band uh patriots signed that document in Philadelphia, that be where duh perfection begins
