Leadership includes many qualities -- such as vision, commitment, and an ability to understand an unfolding situation -- but communication perhaps carries the greatest role for anyone who seeks that responsibility.
Now, everyone knows President-Elect Barack Obama can deliver a great speech. We also know he is a terrific writer, and consequently a terrific thinker, too. Obama's facility with words, written and spoken, is a treasure to behold for anyone who enjoys language.
But over the past few years, it's been interesting to note that less attention has been paid to the kind of speech Obama makes in a particular situation. All great speeches occur in the context of time and place. Sure, over time, that context fades and the words of a particular speech themselves remain, to be repeated in classrooms and read silently with a nod of admiration by future generations. But in the beginning, on its initial delivery, the speech lives in the present. And the greatness of a speech first is most often known in that moment.
During this great Presidential campaign, I'd argue that Barack Obama delivered seven great speeches. Of these seven speeches, five speeches fairly and perhaps predictably fit the time in which they were given. For instance, at the Jefferson-Jackson dinner speech in Iowa in November 2007, after a night of speeches that left him the last speaker near midnight, Obama separated himself from his chief rival, Senator Hillary Clinton, by saying "This party - the party of Jefferson and Jackson; of Roosevelt and
Kennedy - has always made the biggest difference in the lives of the
American people when we led, not by polls, but by principle; not by
calculation, but by conviction; when we summoned the entire nation to a
common purpose - a higher purpose."
Obama's victory speech after the Iowa caucuses in January 2008 came before a national and international audience, and its language soared as high as the enthusiasm of his supporters that night: "They said this day would never come.
They said our sights were set too high.
They said this country was too divided; too disillusioned to ever come together around a common purpose.
But on this January night - at this defining moment in history - you have done what the cynics said we couldn't do."
A few months later, Obama settled nerves surrounding his relationship with Reverend Jeremiah Wright, but more importantly re-drew the boundaries of that controversy by reminding people of how race works in America in very complex ways, and how we must face its complexity together in order to continue to form this more perfect union. It was perhaps the greatest speech given by Obama in the entire campaign, a speech of soaring intellect and subtle grasp, the kind whose brilliance becomes evident with every re-reading. But in very practical terms, it also effectively ended the Wright controversy and restored ballast to Obama's campaign.
After he secured the Democratic nomination, Obama gave a quiet little speech on Father's Day that began by saying the usual things one might imagine on that day in a Chicago church. "What makes you a man is not the ability to have a child," Obama said, "it's the courage to raise one."
Maybe it was because Obama was finally home after a long primary campaign, speaking in a church with his family in front of him, that this speech -- while perfectly fitting its moment -- was also just a little bit different.
By turns it was playful.
"You know, sometimes I'll go to an eighth-grade graduation and there's
all that pomp and circumstance and gowns and flowers. And I think to
myself, it's just eighth grade. To really compete, they need to
graduate high school, and then they need to graduate college, and they
probably need a graduate degree too. An eighth-grade education doesn't
cut it today. Let's give them a handshake and tell them to get their
butts back in the library!"
But it was also serious in an unusual way. It was not simply somber about the inadequate ways that men all too often behave -- by not being present in the lives of their children, or by watching ESPN's Sports Center all weekend long -- but in reminding men that more ought to be expected of them than is asked.
In this speech,, Obama asked men to pass along the value of empathy -- to show children how to see the world from someone else's perspective. He asked them to give hope to their children, too. Not in wishful spoonfuls, but as a dose of medicine to better their world instead of simply focusing on themselves.
"When I was a young man, I thought life was all about me – how do I
make my way in the world, and how do I become successful and how do I
get the things that I want. But now, my life revolves around my two little girls....And what I've realized is that life doesn't count for much unless
you're willing to do your small part to leave our children – all of our
children – a better world. Even if it's difficult. Even if the work
seems great. Even if we don't get very far in our lifetime."
When was the last time you heard Dr. Phil talk like that?
Of course, the fifth great speech Obama gave that neatly fit its time was his acceptance speech at the Democratic National Convention. Before 70,000 people on a summer night in a stadium a mile high in the sky, and before millions more people on television, Obama pointed to the grandstand and, like Babe Ruth, hit a home run.
"This too is part of America's promise - the promise of a democracy
where we can find the strength and grace to bridge divides and unite in
common effort.
I know there are those who dismiss such beliefs as happy talk. They
claim that our insistence on something larger, something firmer and
more honest in our public life is just a Trojan Horse for higher taxes
and the abandonment of traditional values. And that's to be expected.
Because if you don't have any fresh ideas, then you use stale tactics
to scare the voters. If you don't have a record to run on, then you
paint your opponent as someone people should run from.
You make a big election about small things."
(It was here -- with memories of Swift Boats and Willie Horton, and anticipated memories of Bill Ayers -- that Obama really got me.)
"And you know what - it's worked before. Because it feeds into the
cynicism we all have about government. When Washington doesn't work,
all its promises seem empty. If your hopes have been dashed again and
again, then it's best to stop hoping, and settle for what you already
know.
I get it. I realize that I am not the likeliest candidate for this
office. I don't fit the typical pedigree, and I haven't spent my career
in the halls of Washington.
But I stand before you tonight because all across America something
is stirring. What the nay-sayers don't understand is that this election
has never been about me. It's been about you."
Maybe so. But on this night, and on four previous occasions, Obama delivered an extraordinary speech and did so at just the right moment. He knew what to say, he knew when to say it. The task seems easy, but it's not.
And what's even more extraordinary, as I look back on this extraordinary campaign, is that Obama delivered two additionally great speeches at what might seem to be precisely the wrong time. The speeches I have in mind were polished. They were tight, cool, and wonderful in their prose, argument, and delivery. Problem was, they did not fit the time. Speeches first exist in the moment, I believe, and these weren't it.
Or so it might seem.
The first great, oddly-timed speech by Obama came on the night on the New Hampshire Primary. On the heels of the victory in the Iowa caucuses, polls suggested in the final 24 hours before the New Hampshire that Obama would not only win, but win by some 8-11 points. If true, it would effectively mean the end of the campaign for Hillary Clinton. But something happened in that final 24 hours. Depending on who you talk to, Hillary found her voice, falsely claimed via a mailer to every women in New Hampshire that Obama was weak on supporting choice, and ultimately found herself in the victory corner on a cold night in New Hampshire.
To everyone in the Obama campaign, Clinton's victory was a sharp, stinging rebuke. It was the kind of night where you reach for the hard stuff.
But not Obama.
On that night, when victory was snatched away by a very strong opponent, Obama responded by tacking directly into the wind. Today, nearly a year later, I remain amazed at what Obama did on that cold, New Hampshire night.
In the face of defeat, he did not yell. He did not scream. He did not apologize.
Instead, with the exception of one minor concession, Obama gave his victory speech.
"I want to congratulate Senator Clinton on a hard-fought victory here in New Hampshire.
A few weeks ago, no one imagined that we’d have accomplished what we
did here tonight. For most of this campaign, we were far behind, and we
always knew our climb would be steep.
But in record numbers, you came out and spoke up for change. And
with your voices and your votes, you made it clear that at this moment
– in this election – there is something happening in America."
Here, finally, was proof positive about what Barack Obama meant in terms of hope. It was in the dark hours, when there was not much light or optimism, that hope could and should prevail.
"We know the battle ahead will be long, but always remember that no
matter what obstacles stand in our way, nothing can withstand the power
of millions of voices calling for change.
We have been told we cannot do this by a chorus of cynics who will
only grow louder and more dissonant in the weeks to come. We’ve been
asked to pause for a reality check. We’ve been warned against offering
the people of this nation false hope.
But in the unlikely story that is America, there has never been
anything false about hope. For when we have faced down impossible odds;
when we’ve been told that we’re not ready, or that we shouldn’t try, or
that we can’t, generations of Americans have responded with a simple
creed that sums up the spirit of a people.
Yes we can.
It was a creed written into the founding documents that declared the destiny of a nation.
Yes we can.
It was whispered by slaves and abolitionists as they blazed a trail toward freedom through the darkest of nights.
Yes we can.
It was sung by immigrants as they struck out from distant shores and
pioneers who pushed westward against an unforgiving wilderness.
Yes we can."
That speech -- given at a time when most candidates would bend -- instead gave birth to an Obama victory in South Carolina, a numerical Obama victory in Nevada, and then a string of victories after the Super Tuesday-tie that gave Obama a lead which he never relinquished until June when it became clear that the Democratic nomination was his to claim.
That speech, given in the most unlikely of circumstances, also gave birth to a viral video thanks to will.i.am, that turned the tables on the New Hampshire victory of Hillary Clinton. Instead of defeat, suddenly and indescribably, there was hope. Possibility. A chance for a chance.
Yes We Can.
In many ways, it was the most unlikely victory speech, but perhaps the most effective speech of the entire Obama campaign.
Finally, I'd suggest (quietly) amidst all of these speeches, that Obama's speech on Election Night 2008 was also unusual in its timing. Instead of tinkling the triumphant keys, instead of relishing in the victory of a particular political party, and frankly instead of playing to the inclinations of the more than one million people gathered in that park in Chicago, IL, Obama responded with a different kind of "Yes, We Can" speech.
When red meat would have sufficed, Obama instead gave the adoring crowd a sober assessment of the road ahead:
"I know you didn't do this just to win an election and I know you
didn't do it for me. You did it because you understand the enormity of
the task that lies ahead. For even as we celebrate tonight, we know the
challenges that tomorrow will bring are the greatest of our lifetime -
two wars, a planet in peril, the worst financial crisis in a century.
Even as we stand here tonight, we know there are brave Americans waking
up in the deserts of Iraq and the mountains of Afghanistan to risk
their lives for us. There are mothers and fathers who will lie awake
after their children fall asleep and wonder how they'll make the
mortgage, or pay their doctor's bills, or save enough for college.
There is new energy to harness and new jobs to be created; new schools
to build and threats to meet and alliances to repair.
The road ahead will be long. Our climb will be steep. We may not get
there in one year or even one term, but America - I have never been
more hopeful than I am tonight that we will get there. I promise you -
we as a people will get there."
Tears streamed down my face as I watched Obama speak, as they did for many others. My first vote for President was Jesse Jackson in the Democratic Primary of 1984, but it was more than this memory that caused this kind of emotional response. For me, it was Obama's willingness to say that the road ahead would be hard, and that yet in that journey there was opportunity.
Like many others, I had worked hard to make this day possible. We should have been dancing in the streets in light of this triumph. But instead, thanks to President-Elect Obama, we were brought back to earth. The journey had, in fact, just begun. This election gave us the chance to make change. It was not change itself.
This was the kind of leadership for which we've hungered for many years. It was the message we needed to hear.
