Remarks at the René Moawad Foundation’s 13th Annual Benefit Dinner

Good evening. Thank you, Riz Khan, for that warm introduction. I'm honored to have the opportunity to speak to you as we honor René Moawad, a man who dreamt of peace, worked toward reconciliation, and believed in a strong and prosperous Lebanon. I would like to thank Her Excellency, Nayla Moawad, for turning her husband's legacy into the reality of the Foundation.

And I thank my friend, former Secretary Spencer Abraham, for his lifelong career of service to the American people. I would like to thank all of you for joining us as we honor him as an outstanding Lebanese-American.

All of us in this room have a story about our family's continued love and devotion to our ancestral homeland and of the opportunities America presented to us as we became Lebanese-Americans. My own family's story is a case in point. My grandparents came from Lebanon in the early part of the last century. My grandfather, with whom I was extremely close, remained throughout his life intensely proud of Lebanon and of his heritage. In fact, when he came to the United States, he didn't even remember his birthday. So what did he do? He eventually adopted as his birthday, the birthday of the country he loved and missed so much, Lebanon's independence day. On his tombstone, God rest his soul, that is the date that is inscribed as his birth date.

My grandfather also insisted that each of us learn how to identify ourselves in Arabic from an early age. So he taught me: Ismee Iskandar Al-Azar. Ana men Amioun fee'il Lubnan. I think he must have had a pathological fear that some day we might find ourselves lost in Beirut and need to find our way back to our ancestral village.

A little over two months ago, I took my children to Ellis Island, where my grandfather arrived from Amioun, Lebanon in 1920. It was a moving experience to hear about the travails of journeys such as his and to learn more about the immigration procedures at Ellis Island. After my grandfather-who was an impoverished teenager and spoke no English-arrived alone and confused in the receiving hall, he met an individual in a military uniform. That person possessed the power to admit him or to send him back to poverty and uncertainty. That person was a member of the United States Public Health Service. It amazes me to think that just 85 years after my grandfather went through his six-second physical on Ellis Island with no discernable prospects other than the political, economic, and religious freedom America offers, his grandson would be in charge of the Public Health Service. And that is one of the more insignificant stories like this. Children of Lebanon have risen to great prominence in business, politics, arts, and science�many of whom are in this room tonight. That is the remarkable potential of America-the reason we are all here. And that is a mission that we all share-to ensure that opportunity remains open to Americans of all ethnic and religious backgrounds. And having tasted the fruits of the opportunity America offers to all her people, we who love Lebanon-and the concept of Lebanon�so much share a passion in helping Lebanon be a beacon of hope, opportunity, freedom, and stability.

I am proud that at the Department of Health and Human Services, we have had a long history and a growing relationship with Lebanon and the Lebanese people:

• We have been working with the Lebanese government to find opportunities to assist in Lebanon's recovery and to overcome the health challenges the Lebanese people face.

• Both Lebanon and the United States continue to look for ways we can enhance our collaborations with Lebanese scientists and regulators on issues such as research on thalassemia, the mental health of children, and food safety and agricultural exports to the United States.

• Also last summer, I oversaw the HHS efforts to repatriate around 13,000 Americans affected by the violence in Lebanon. I greeted everyone coming off the first flight back at BWI. There were Shia and Sunni. There were Orthodox and Maronite. There were businesspeople and tourists. And, working with state, local, and non-profit groups, we provided all of them with medical care, lodging, and assistance with their transportation.

Our repatriation work was especially personal and gripping for me, because I almost had to be repatriated myself. In mid-July, I was in the Middle East. I visited Libya in our first mission after its sanctions were removed. I was fortunate to be going to Jordan next and then on to Beirut. I actually had a paper ticket to Beirut in my pocket, and I was excited about making my first visit to the land where my grandfather was born-a sort of repatriation in the other direction.

Then, the first day I woke up in Tripoli (the other Tripoli), I turned on the Lebanese cable TV channel and saw bombs landing. That led to a slight change in my travel plans. Instead of going to Lebanon, I made my way home to help with the repatriation-which was the largest repatriation of Americans since the Second World War.

Our people have a rich and accomplished history, both in Lebanon and around the world, and the country has limitless promise for the future. If you listened tonight, you heard an adjective used probably twenty times already to describe the Lebanese people-"resilient." I am sick of that being the adjective that defines the Lebanese. We need to work so that the first words that come to mind when thinking of the Lebanese instead are "optimistic," "happy," "free," and "prosperous." I believe that, working together, we can help achieve the René Moawad Foundation's vision of �peace, dialogue, national unity, and equality of all citizens of Lebanon,� which is the vision of an optimistic Lebanon. Thank you so much for the privilege of being with you tonight.