St. Louis calling Julie Doucet in Montreal

I dip in and dip out of most things, not much of a completist or expert, but I do buy everything by Julie Doucet I can lay my hands on.

The other day at Star Clipper I laid my hands on a book by her I had never seen, 365 Days (Drawn & Quarterly). Mine now!

It's a year in the life of a struggling, mid-career artist, successful by most objective measures, but frayed - sometimes, flayed - by the uncertainty of the market and technical aggravations of the work.

Julie and I are nearly precisely the same age, and dispersed similarly across a lot of projects, so I can certainly relate to her personal diary of November 2002-2003.

She was living and working at the time in Montreal, though she had an eye on Paris and lands a steady smattering of international gigs, related to her art and books.

St. Louis makes a surprising cameo. In her entry on March 22, 2003 - a period stained by the earliest stage of the current Iraq War - she is told by phone about the local (to her) band Godspeed You Black Emperor getting interrogated by the FBI as suspected terrorists while on tour at a gas station in St. Louis.

That was enough to tee me up for this blogpost. As a matter of fact, various accounts place the band in Ardmore, Arkansas for their stop/frisk by the feds. But they were on their way to a gig that night in St. Louis, and they told the dramatic tale onstage here, which explains the confusion.

The mention of St. Louis in Julie's diary made me realize that my arts project Poetry Scores could pop up in her narrative. It would have appeared, if at all, as one of her endless, marginally irritating art opportunities.

All she had to do, in our case, was give approval for the use of a few images she had drawn years before and we already had in our possession, on the pages of a comic book.

We were scoring a Turkish poem titled, in translation, Blind Cat Black. The imagery in the poem of a black cat in a blind alley, within her sack a child just dead, made me think of Julie's drawings from Dirty Plotte.

The zombie cat is saying something else - the more evocative "I am the only man!" if memory serves - in Julie's panel.

This image, which we used on the back cover of the CD, I find even more amazing.

True to form - for Julie, but also for us - logistics posed problems. I seem to recall payment was not prompt, and Julie resorted to fretting with me before the financial ducks could be made to get in a row, finally, from St. Louis to Quebec.

When I searched my email inbox and found our exchanges, however, they were dated a couple of years later than when these 365 days end. Julie will have to write and publish another diary before our project will have the chance to crop up in her prose as yet another flattering but wearying gig.

Strumming Swedish elf home movie of my life

So what do you do when some Swedish bloke makes a home movie about his brief waltz through an important part of your life?

You blog it, I suppose.

Fabian Grapengiesser accompanied songwriter Anders Elfstom from Sweden to East Nashville, Tennessee to make a record, and Grapengiesser (really, one must swoon over these amazing names!) made a compelling home move out of the journey and the session.

I'm projecting that this journey seemed larger than life to these two Swedes due to the name magic of Nashville. I'm guessing that exotic connection was what motivated this wide-eyed and loving intimate portrait of their session.

I can certainly relate. St. Louis is lot closer to Nashville than Stockholm is, but the music city always has held mystique for me. Many years ago one of my best friends and musical brothers, Lij Shaw, relocated to Nashville from St. Louis (by way of a stint playing blues in Hong Kong).

Lij has been able to make a living playing and recording music in Nashville, which strikes a certain awe in the heart of an amateur like me, and for many years I have thrived on the drive to Nashvegas for sessions with him. That is the amazing part to me about Grapengiesser's video - he fetishizes the pecise studio scenes and images that have become familiar and beloved to me over the course of many years.

Anders Elfstom (it seems important to note that the "o" in his last name bears an umlaut) recorded at Lij's latest studio, The Toy Box, in downhome East Nashville. As such, the tiniest details of studio life down there that I have come to know and cherish - the quirks of the alarm system, the dry-erase board and its ever-present forum for documenting inside jokes, the clumsy back gate for egress of amps - have now been documented for the world to see.

Our current songwriting project, Poetry Scores, recorded most of our 2009 record The Sydney Highrise Variations with Lij and Marc Primeau in The Toy Box. I know that the people who worked on our record in Nashville will feast on this video, and I hope the many artists and volunteers who support Poetry Scores' efforts will also enjoy a glimpse into our working conditions and process.

Anders Elfstrom - a man with a strumming elf in his name - is hereby invited to help Poetry Scores set a long poem to rock music, which is one of the things we do. Not only do I like the songs he recorded with my boy Lij in East Nashville, but this man has a strumming elf - and an umlaut - in his name!

Anders Elfstrom - The Nashville Sesssion
Produced by Fabian Grapengiesser

*Bonus Music Video*

Anders Elfstrom - "I Fell Into Your Arms"
Produced by Fabian Grapengiesser

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Image of Lij, fretting at the drum kit, working with Dave Melson on a Poetry Scores session in The Toy Box earlier this year.

A thank-you note from Missouri death row

I received the following letter, hand-written, from Missouri death row inmate Reginald Clemons this week.

Reginald was scheduled to be executed on June 17 of this year, when the Missouri Supreme Court - which had scheduled his execution - suddenly sent his case to an independent judge with subpoena power.

As far as anyone I have spoken with is aware, this was an unprecedented development for a death row case with an execution scheduled. Judge Michael Manners has scheduled a hearing for May 2010 to hear old and new evidence.

Our newspaper, The St. Louis American, continued to cover weaknesses in the case against Clemons as his execution date neared. This relentless coverage is the subject of this letter, which speaks for itself.

Hello! How are you doing today? I hope this letter finds you doing well and in the best of spirits.

I have been very busy trying to prepare for the hearing coming up this May 2010, to make the most of the chance to prove my innocence. It has been a blessing to spend time talking to my family. I can hear the difference in the voice now that I’ve got breathing room. I know that’s due in part to your help with getting the word out.

I’ve already started laying groundwork to make the most out of the new lifeline I’ve gotten. Just like God made it possible for me to reach you in my greatest hour of need, I am fully confident that I’ll be able to finally accomplish some of the things I hope to do for the world and the Earth.

I know it was the weekly articles you put out there for people to become informed. It solidified for me how important it is to trust people to know the truth when they hear it. Thank you for helping me and taking the time to hear me out.

Reginald Clemons

Old trombone my verbiage into some Italian rock!

I learned from a blog this morning that one of my poems has been translated into Italian and set to rock music.

The translator and songwriter is a man named Andrea from the northern Italian band Van Cleef Continental. I met him years ago on a listserv devoted to The Replacements, thinking I was flirting with an Italian girl who was into American post-punk. It's a man's name in his country.

Andrea and I met once in the Milan airport, where I was connecting en route to Ghana, and we have kept up with one another's projects over the years. In fact, his attention to my work scoring long poems was what motivated him to request some of my poetry so he could score it.

He chose this poem - the first piece in my chapbook A heart I carved for a girl I knew.

I used to be precocious.
I’ll spare you that bit,
The old fart expostulates
On his precocious youth.
I was right on time, though,
Or a little behind the swerve,
On this middle-aged thing,
This old blues. I have no eye
Out for car lots, or hair pieces,
But I did want to run away and join the circus, again.
I do, I do want to run away and join the circus,
I want to somersault out of a cannon, into the empty air,
I want to sleep beneath the stars and my carnival ride,
I want to put my head into the mouth of the lion. I do.
I want to run away and join the circus, with you.

The Van Cleef blog has Andrea's Italian translation, which I can't read. Though Google Toolbar gives me the option of translating his Italian with the flick of a switch. Doing so gives me this English version of my poem:

I was quite early
I shall spare you this part,
old trombone that verbiage
about his early childhood.
But I was more than punctual, however
Or a little below average
this thing to middle age
this old blues. I never had a great eye
for the resale of cars or the hairstyles special
but I wanted to run away and join the circus
and I still want to run away and join the circus
I want to do a spin in the air, fired from a cannon
I want to sleep under the stars, near the carousel horses
I want to poke your head in the mouth of the lion. yes.
I want to run away and join the circus with you.

I love "the old fart expostulates" going into Italian, then coming back into English as "old trombone that verbiage"!

I'll have an mp3 of his song soon - I am told it is a piano rock ballad (I love me a piano rock ballad). I expect Andrea will sing the English version - my English version.

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Andrea is the man playing bass to the left in this photo from the Van Cleef Continental MySpace page.

A year and a day for Jeff Smith

Judge Jackson sentences former state senator for obstruction of justice

By Chris King
Of The St. Louis American

Former state Sen. Jeff Smith’s good works saved him at least three months in federal prison.

On Tuesday morning Judge Carol E. Jackson sentenced Smith to 12 months and one day in prison and a fine of $50,000, whereas sentencing guidelines for his crimes called for 15 to 21 months of incarceration.

In August Smith pled guilty to two counts of conspiracy to obstruct justice. Jackson sentenced him to 12 months and one day in prison (and two years of supervised release) for each charge, but the sentences will run concurrently.

“These are very serious offenses – ongoing efforts to thwart ongoing investigations by the FEC and FBI,” Jackson said to Smith during the sentencing hearing Tuesday morning in federal district court.

“Serious, in that these were the legitimate efforts on the part of two government bodies to perform the duties they are supposed to perform: investigating allegations of misconduct.”

Smith and his codefendants conspired to obstruct justice in 2004 when the Federal Election Commission investigated a minor act of campaign fraud committed in the course of Smith’s 2004 congressional campaign against Russ Carnahan in the Democratic primary.

This year they conspired to obstruct justice when the FBI investigated the earlier conspiracy, which was uncovered through recordings made covertly by a campaign operative, who remains imprisoned on other charges.

The 2009 conspiracy against the FBI was recorded by a cooperating witness, codefendant Steve Brown, a state representative at the time, who avoided a prison sentence for his cooperation. He and Nick Adams, the young treasurer of Smith’s 2004 campaign, were sentenced by Jackson to two years of probation and fines of $40,00 and $5,000, respectively.

Transcriptions of those wire tapes, which prosecutor Hal Goldsmith read aloud in the sentencing hearing, reveal Smith scheming to lie and conceal evidence of their crimes and even attempt to pin them on a co-conspirator from the 2004 campaign who had since killed himself.

The Jeff Smith revealed on these tapes stood in stark contrast to the selfless public servant described in the many letters of support submitted by the defendant. “Reading these letters, then reading these transcripts, leads me to wonder: Who is the real Jeff Smith?” Jackson said.

Clearly, the testimony in the letters impacted the judge – and she said she had taken them into consideration.

“There is no doubt in my mind that you have contributed significantly to the community and social causes. Moreover, your contributions were motivated by a genuine desire to help people and better lives, not motivated by personal, professional or political gain,” Jackson said to Smith.

“Your service was significant, perhaps even extraordinary, compared to what others have done. A lot of politicians have showed up at events to have their picture taken, we all know that. You showed up because you wanted to be there and you wanted to participate. You touched a lot of people’s lives.”

Ultimately, though, Smith’s obstruction of justice – continued for five years through two separate conspiracies against two separate federal investigations – weighed too heavily against him to keep him out of prison, as his attorney had requested.

“What’s most troubling is you had many, many opportunities between 2004 and 2009 to come clean, and you didn’t do that,” Jackson said.

“You and your codefendants continued to think of ways to conceal what you did. One lie led to another, and they built on each other. That is very troubling. Our justice system doesn’t work very well when people interfere with it.”

The need for deterrence, the judge said, demanded prison time.

“Deterrence is an important factor, not only for yourself but for others in your position. It is important that your sentence reflect promotion of respect for the law, which you and your defendants showed very little respect for in your conduct,” Jackson said.

“Probation and house arrest is not punishment. How you perpetrated these crimes, and the period of time you perpetrated them, warrants something more.”

The film Frank Popper made about Smith’s 2004 campaign includes footage of Smith’s mother saying she wished her son wouldn’t pursue electoral politics because of the dirty things people do to win. Those haunting words may now be joined in Smith’s memory by something incisive Judge Jackson said when weighing Smith’s crimes against his record of community service.

Jackson said, “I have to wonder, because you seem so sincere and have such a stellar record, do people tend to believe you, even when you are lying to them?”

The Nightingale's Song at Powell in a rainy season

Possibly it has always been true, but most of us these days are not taught the things we really need to know and are left to ourselves to learn them for ourselves.

I feel fortunate, first, to have survived into adulthood, and then to have emerged with abundant curiosity and gumption to venture into the places where it might have been said by others that I didn't belong.

One such place is Powell Hall. When I was younger and had far less money but much more freedom in time, I bought season tickets in the nosebleeds, and sat up there rapt with wonder, learning how symphonies move and even the names of instruments in the orchestra.

I knew so little; had so much to learn. Now I only know the proverbial more that alerted me to the vaster more I have yet to learn.

Friday night at Powell, not in the nosebleeds, I learned more about how a symphonic poem, as opposed to a symphony proper, moves. The program opened with Stravinsky's Song of the Nightingale, a symphonic poem that follows the rhythm of a story, rather than historic expectations as to the structured movements of composed music.

It occured to me that this kind of music is not about movement at all, but rather space. I had a strikingly visual experience of the music, as David Robertson brought alive different sections of The St. Louis Symphony Orchestra, and even individual players, with waves of his wand and magic little puffs from his fingers.

Song of the Nightingale is a tentative, atomised, delicate piece of music, a dreamscape, and the way David led the band through its changes was a revelation to me.

I dream when awake with intensity, and resist being shook from my dreams, so I remained absorbed in the Stravinsky and my new sense of space in music throughout the next piece of music, which was the anchor of the program.

This was Tan Dun's Water Concerto, featuring Colin Currie guesting on lead percussion. There is an undeniable wow factor to this piece, because it introduces big glass bowls of water into the orchestra as musical instruments.

Traditional African music is one of those other things I wasn't supposed to find, but found, and have dreamed into with intensity; and I have in my possession numerous recordings of African villagers making music by splashing in water. I am down with this sort of thing and adored seeing it melded into symphonic repertoire.

Even more to my liking was the play with overtones. Currie and two house percussionists also bowed and struck some odd instruments I have never seen before, creating eeries overtones. The same effect was made by bowing a gong and dipping the gong into the water. The score called for violins and other instruments with high registers to echo these overtones and embellish them. This made for brilliantly colorful splashes of sound that hearkened back, tonally, to the Stravinsky.

But I thought the performance Friday night had some problems. The orchestra didn't seem to be hearing Currie very well. The rhymic interaction between his playing and the band as a whole seemed, often, to be off. This would be understandable when the instrument was something as evanescent as water, but I found the disconnect more dismaying when he was rapping out louder beats on more solid instruments.

If I'm right about this - and the disconnection could be integral to the score; I don't know - then I expect David Robertson will fix this before they take this show on the road to Carnegie Hall.

That's the other thing I have learned about music from this orchestra - in this case, at rehearsals, rather than concerts. If the conductor looks superfluous on the bandstand at the concert - most of the time, most of the musicians don't even look at him - that's because he really earns his keep at rehearsal.

That's when he stops the band, stamps out the proper rhythm, sings the accurate pitch, redirects the players to the starting place in the score, and has them hit it again. David Robertson takes musicians through this process with a joy and generosity that must make him a very pleasant man to work with and for.

But really, my biggest problem with the Water Concerto was not the orchestra's performance of it, in tandem with Colin Currie. The problem was, it wasn't the Stravinsky, and I wasn't finished thinking about the Stravinsky. I am thinking about it still.

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The image is of Joan Miro's painting The Nightingale's Song at Midnight and the Morning Rain

***

Noted with shame: I spent the seven days previous to this concert in virtual quarantine with an H1N1-addled child and desperately was needing some social life. My friend Bradley Bowers was hosting an open house to share some of his art work before it gets shipped off to a gallery elsewhere, and a number of other friends were expected to attend. So I skipped out of the second half of this program. It pains me to have missed the Bright Sheng and the Bartok, but a man also must be a friend.

A little love to, and from, the White House

One of the cool things about editing a newspaper is that when you see a beautiful new portrait of your country's beautiful First Family, you can display it loud and proud on the front page in full color.

So long as the publisher agrees. And I knew our publisher, Doc, would agree. Here is a pdf of our front page tomorrow for The St. Louis American:

Page A1, Oct. 29, 2009

I don't usually have a pdf of the front page the night we go to press; usually, I'm there with the rest of our little newsroom and the publisher, proofing black & white printouts as they roll out of our ancient printer.

But today, I am home with a sick kid, and stayed away even when my wife came home to relieve me, since the girl has H1N1. She is doing fine, and her parents don't seem to be getting sick, but I have been exposed and don't want to communicate the virus to anyone else while I may be contagious.

Having proofed the front-page design by pdf (and corrected a few errors on this version that won't appear in tomorrow's paper, multiplied by 70,000), I had the idea of sending it to our contact at the White House.

Barack Obama set a new standard for outreach to the minority press; I've actually had a far easier time communicating with the Obama campaign and administration than the Slay for Mayor campaign or administration.

Anyway, I emailed this front page to our man in Washington, with the note, "Thought you'd appreciate how we played your peeps."

And he wrote right back in moments:

Chris, you guys are too good for your own good. That made my day.
Hope the kid feel better. Thanks much.

Well, hell. Approval from the White House, and the paper isn't even at the printer? I think I deserve a beer. I think I'm going to go get one now.

p.s. If you want to continue reading the stories that start on 1A, here are the jump pages:

Page A6, Oct. 29, 2009

Page A7, Oct. 29, 2009

Call him sperm whale poop

I understand from a report in The Telegraph that a British broadcast medium will try reporting news and issues of the day using impersonators for literary figures of the past:

Dr Samuel Johnson will be interpreted by the broadcaster David Stafford, John Ruskin, the critic, will be played by Professor Bernard Richards, a Ruskin expert at Brasenose College Oxford, and Jane Austen will be performed by Rebecca Vaughan, who wrote and performed in 'Austen's Women' at this year's Edinburgh festival.

I like it - if only because I dislike so much what so many broadcasters do when they don't impersonate anybody.

We are told, further, that "Dr Johnson will examine the knowledge economy and learn how to use the internet" and "Jane Austen,will consider modern courtship and the waning popularity of marriage," while left to guess what faux Ruskin will natter on about.

This made me imagine dead American writers we might bring back to talk about the news and issues of our day.

This deserves to be an occasional series, rather than a hurried roundup. So let me start by bringing back one dead American scribe - Herman Melville - to report on climate change.

Herman, of course, was the great poet of the sperm whale. As his news director, I would have him interview Trish J. Lavery of Flinders University in Adelaide, Australia, who just busted out some fresh research about Melville's species of choice.

Turns out since Hermie kicked, sperm whales have been getting a bum rap for allegedly breathing out skads of carbon that contributes to greenhouse gas buildup, and thereby global warming. Bad sperm whale! Bad, bad!

According to Science News, Trish is putting the kebosh on that slander. A whale whose name is associated with a bodily fluid is actually rehabilitating its reputation through a bodily solid. It's all about diving to the depth and bringing up iron that, returned to the surface of the ocean, nourishes plankton that scarfs on - y'all guessed it - carbon.

Using numbers from studies of feeding and nutrition, Lavery and her colleagues calculate that each whale brings up about 10 grams of iron a day from the depths
and then defecates it at the surface. The beauty of this sperm whale output is that it takes the form of drifting liquid plumes that can feed life in the upper ocean, Lavery says. She notes that experiments with iron have struggled with iron fertilizers that clump and sink before upper-water plankton can eat all of the goodies. Yet, she says, those experiments document measurable carbon trapping with even less iron fertilizer than sperm whales contribute.

I know, I know, I know: this clip talks of "the beauty of this sperm whale output," when said output is sperm whale poop. Bad Branson dinner theater joke in there somewhere. How many scientists does it take to see beauty in sperm whale poop? Just one I guess.

And I know just how I'll coach old Herman to start his every stand-up on camera: "Call me Ishmael!" And, then, in this instance, "Or, call me sperm whale poop! Reporting from the Biennial Conference on the Biology of Marine Mammals in Quebec City, Canada ..."

Antonio French responds to Rainford's 'Katrina' insult

Alderman Antonio D. French hand-delivered this letter to the Mayor' Office around noon today.

Dear Mayor Slay,

I would like to call to your attention comments made yesterday by your chief of staff, Jeff Rainford. On the 10:00 PM broadcast of KMOV Channel 4 News, Mr. Rainford compared north St. Louis City to New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina.

While it is certainly true that parts of the City of St. Louis have suffered greatly from decades of population loss and benign neglect under past administrations, to have the chief of staff of the Mayor make such a broad characterization of half of our city completely undermines the efforts many of us are making to improve the quality of life in our wards.

As I work daily to attract the interest of rehabbers, developers and entrepreneurs who can help us rebuild the 21st Ward house-by-house, block-by-block, I definitely do not need to have an official City spokesperson on television painting a negative picture of my northside
ward.

Furthermore, if it is truly the opinion of Room 200 that sections of north St. Louis are similar to New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina, then I welcome a proportional response from your office in terms of a true commitment of attention and resources to those sections of our city that present both the biggest challenges and the greatest opportunity for the City of St. Louis.

I would also like to invite Mr. Rainford on a personal tour of the Penrose and O’Fallon neighborhoods to show him the beautiful and wellmaintained blocks that make these some of the finest places to live in the City of St. Louis and not at all like an area destroyed by a natural disaster.

Sincerely,

Alderman Antonio D. French
City of St. Louis, Ward 21

French's letter on pdf.

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Katrina pic from Tumblr.

Missouri man indicted for threatening Obama

Josh Randall McCallum was indicted on federal charges of making a threat to kill the President of the United States, Acting United States Attorney Michael W. Reap announced today.

According to the indictment, on August 3, 2009, McCallum mailed a letter threatening to kill the President of the United States. At the time he mailed the letter he was an inmate at the Northeast Correctional Center.

McCallum, 32, Bowling Green, MO, was indicted by a federal grand jury October 8, 2009, on one felony count of threatening the President of the United States. He is expected to appear in federal court later this week.

If convicted, this charge carries a maximum penalty of five years in prison and/or fines up to $250,000.

Reap commended the work on the case by the United States Secret Service; and Assistant United States Attorney Thomas Rea, who is handling the case for the U.S. Attorney’s Office.

The charges set forth in an indictment are merely accusations, and each defendant is presumed innocent until and unless proven guilty.

‘An affirmation of American leadership’

One peculiar experience I get as editor of The St. Louis American at this historic juncture is on a regular basis to edit a speech given by the president for publication. I know his flow, and that of his speechwriters, pretty well by now. We will run this in the paper this week.

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President Obama responds to Nobel Peace Prize award

By Barack Obama
U.S. President

Washington, D.C. – Well, this is not how I expected to wake up this morning.

After I received the news, Malia walked in and said, "Daddy, you won the Nobel Peace Prize, and it is Bo's birthday!" And then Sasha added, "Plus, we have a three-day weekend coming up." So it’s good to have kids to keep things in perspective.

I am both surprised and deeply humbled by the decision of the Nobel Committee. Let me be clear: I do not view it as a recognition of my own accomplishments, but rather as an affirmation of American leadership on behalf of aspirations held by people in all nations.

To be honest, I do not feel that I deserve to be in the company of so many of the transformative figures who've been honored by this prize – men and women who’ve inspired me and inspired the entire world through their courageous pursuit of peace.

But I also know that this prize reflects the kind of world that those men and women, and all Americans, want to build – a world that gives life to the promise of our founding documents. And I know that throughout history, the Nobel Peace Prize has not just been used to honor specific achievement; it's also been used as a means to give momentum to a set of causes. And that is why I will accept this award as a call to action – a call for all nations to confront the common challenges of the 21st century.

These challenges can’t be met by any one leader or any one nation. And that's why my administration has worked to establish a new era of engagement in which all nations must take responsibility for the world we seek.

We cannot tolerate a world in which nuclear weapons spread to more nations and in which the terror of a nuclear holocaust endangers more people. And that's why we’ve begun to take concrete steps to pursue a world without nuclear weapons, because all nations have the right to pursue peaceful nuclear power, but all nations have the responsibility to demonstrate their peaceful intentions.

We can't allow the differences between peoples to determine the way that we see one another, and that's why we must pursue a new beginning among people of different faiths and races and religions; one based upon mutual interest and mutual respect.

And we must all do our part to resolve those conflicts that have caused so much pain and hardship over so many years, and that effort must include an unwavering commitment that finally realizes that the rights of all Israelis and Palestinians to live in peace and security in nations of their own.

And even as we strive to seek a world in which conflicts are resolved peacefully and prosperity is widely shared, we have to confront the world as we know it today.

I am the Commander-in-Chief of a country that's responsible for ending a war and working in another theater to confront a ruthless adversary that directly threatens the American people and our allies. I'm also aware that we are dealing with the impact of a global economic crisis that has left millions of Americans looking for work. These are concerns that I confront every day on behalf of the American people.

Some of the work confronting us will not be completed during my presidency. Some, like the elimination of nuclear weapons, may not be completed in my lifetime. But I know these challenges can be met so long as it's recognized that they will not be met by one person or one nation alone.

This award is not simply about the efforts of my administration – it’s about the courageous efforts of people around the world.

And that's why this award must be shared with everyone who strives for justice and dignity – for the young woman who marches silently in the streets on behalf of her right to be heard even in the face of beatings and bullets; for the leader imprisoned in her own home because she refuses to abandon her commitment to democracy; for the soldier who sacrificed through tour after tour of duty on behalf of someone half a world away; and for all those men and women across the world who sacrifice their safety and their freedom and sometime their lives for the cause of peace.

That has always been the cause of America. That's why the world has always looked to America. And that's why I believe America will continue to lead.

Edited from remarks delivered in the White House Rose Garden on Oct. 9, 2009.

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President Barack Obama and his daugher Malia read an excerpt from the Declaration of Independence at the Jefferson Memorial, Sept. 27, 2009. (Official White House photo by Pete Souza)