Barack Obama used storytelling to win the elections

I’m not the only one looking into Obama’s acceptance speech, am I? I was deeply moved by anything others can think about but I was also moved by his ability to tell a story. So, here is the entire speech with storytelling commentary: Good evening Chicago. (A good storyteller will always open with localization or great distancing. Obama opens with localization and in an instant broadens the picture. Two birds with one stone) 

If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible; who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time; who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.

(There you are. Broadening of time, space, crossing ideological borderlines and collecting everything back through the humanization of an opposing power. He brings an antagonist into the story, still fuzzy but present, what instantly indicates the existence of a protagonist. We already have good guys and bad guys but not in a black and white version America has known for so many generations.)

It’s the answer told by lines that stretched around schools and churches in numbers this nation has never seen; by people who waited three hours and four hours, many for the very first time in their lives, because they believed that this time must be different; that their voice could be that difference.

It’s the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Latino, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled — Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been a collection of Red States and Blue States: we are, and always will be, the United States of America.

(He creates a picture easy to visualize, one of the greater powers of a storyteller. He also broadens the character of the protagonist to so many colors and types that we start wondering about the identity of the antagonist. A careful and brilliant move).

It’s the answer that led those who have been told for so long by so many to be cynical, and fearful, and doubtful of what we can achieve to put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more toward the hope of a better day.

(The antagonist appears. But who is it exactly? Let the audience think for themselves without the storyteller raising an accusing finger. It is too complicated even for those who thought they were the good guys, the enlightened ones).

It’s been a long time coming, but tonight, because of what we did on this day, in this election, at this defining moment, change has come to America.

I just received a very gracious call from Senator McCain. He fought long and hard in this campaign, and he’s fought even longer and harder for the country he loves. He has endured sacrifices for America that most of us cannot begin to imagine, and we are better off for the service rendered by this brave and selfless leader.

(He will not mark anyone, forget it. Sure not Senator McCain. In this part of the speech the storyteller is leading a sweeping move of pardon and a deep understanding that not everything we do during our lifetime is also something to be proud about. That’s the way it is. But we can also try and do our best and results show up. The storyteller will never slash to death but will always try to balance the picture, even if it is very difficult). 

I congratulate him and Governor Palin for all they have achieved, and I look forward to working with them to renew this nation’s promise in the months ahead.

(This is fare-play. He emphasizes their importance and relieves some of the fears. Many people have voted for them and they have their own set of stories running around in their heads).

I want to thank my partner in this journey, a man who campaigned from his heart and spoke for the men and women he grew up with on the streets of Scranton and rode with on that train home to Delaware, the Vice President-elect of the United States, Joe Biden.

I would not be standing here tonight without the unyielding support of my best friend for the last sixteen years, the rock of our family and the love of my life, our nation’s next First Lady, Michelle Obama. Sasha and Malia, I love you both so much, and you have earned the new puppy that’s coming with us to the White House.

(Come on, no good stories are absent of a love subplot. I’m sure many of the spectators were sorry they didn’t get to see a presidential kiss. Part of our souls is pink and sticky which is nice). 

And while she’s no longer with us, I know my grandmother is watching, along with the family that made me who I am. I miss them tonight, and know that my debt to them is beyond measure.

(A storyteller will always pay respect to his ancestors. He is a bridge between times, acknowledges it and at the same time buys time for the entire audience).

To my campaign manager David Plouffe, my chief strategist David Axelrod, and the best campaign team ever assembled in the history of politics — you made this happen, and I am forever grateful for what you’ve sacrificed to get it done.

But above all, I will never forget who this victory truly belongs to — it belongs to you.

(End of part one of the story. The storyteller has created the back story for what he is about to tell).

I was never the likeliest candidate for this office. We didn’t start with much money or many endorsements. Our campaign was not hatched in the halls of Washington — it began in the backyards of Des Moines and the living rooms of Concord and the front porches of Charleston.

It was built by working men and women who dug into what little savings they had to give five dollars and ten dollars and twenty dollars to this cause.

(Here the storyteller starts building the picture that will lead to the emotional catharsis he is seeking. In this case the story mechanism crosses perfectly with the content - small steps, small money, a gathering of springs that will gain power continuously. He moves our focus from the protagonist and starts from building the picture from real blocks - real people, real substance).

It grew strength from the young people who rejected the myth of their generation’s apathy; who left their homes and their families for jobs that offered little pay and less sleep; from the not-so-young people who braved the bitter cold and scorching heat to knock on the doors of perfect strangers;

(This metaphore manages to store generations of oppression and sorrow)  

from the millions of Americans who volunteered, and organized, and proved that more than two centuries later, a government of the people, by the people and for the people has not perished from this Earth. This is your victory.

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.

(Obama marks the challange and the victory. But it is not the final challange. The hero of the plot knows his victory is only the opening possibility to a beginning of a new and complicated story. The new story will be full of challanges and dangers and he needs the power of the same people, their faith, he needs them to walk with him and continue what their are asking him to lead).

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.

(We have many subplots, says the storyteller to his audience. I’m walking you through the single plot of this speech but also taking with me all the subplots I can see from where I’m standing in order to harness my audience’s attention and willingness to act in all those fields).