There is much I still don't know about America, about life, about what the future might bring. But I do know myself. My father, Fraser, taught me to work hard, to laugh often, and to keep my word. My mother, Marian, showed me how to think for myself and how to voice my opinion. Together, in our cramped apartment on the South Side of Chicago, they helped me see the value in our family's story, in my story, in the story of our entire country. Even when it is neither beautiful nor perfect. Even when it is more raw than we would like. Your story is what you have, what will always be yours. What belongs to you.