Folks,

I get to travel a lot these days. Less on the train than I would like. But everywhere I go, I meet people who tell me that they’ve given 5 or 10 bucks to our campaign, or that they’ve volunteered for us. These people are the heart of our operation, and if you’re getting this email, you’re the heart of it, too.

I want to thank you personally for everything you’ve done for me and my family over the past nine months. And I wanted to share with you some thoughts about where we are as a campaign, and where we’re going to go now.

Monday night didn’t go the way we wanted. I said this yesterday: it was a punch to the gut.

But it wasn’t a knockout.

Growing up, my Dad had no patience for self-pity. He’d never judge a man or woman by how far they fell down, but instead by how quickly they got up. He always had a simple mantra: “Get up.”

Well, we’ve got to get up.

There are a lot of folks who want to write off this campaign already. Hell, they’ve been trying to do it from the moment I announced. Well -- I’ve got news for all of them. We’re not going anywhere.

We’re going to fight for this nomination. We’re going to fight for it in New Hampshire, Nevada, and South Carolina. We’re going to fight for it on Super Tuesday and beyond.

I have said from the moment I announced that we’re in a battle for the soul of this nation. I believe that even more today.

When I say that, sometimes people misunderstand. I’m not being nostalgic. I’m not trying to take America back to some period that never existed. We all know the animating promise of this nation -- that all men and women are created equal -- has never been fulfilled.

The soul of this nation wasn’t forged by Wall Street. It was forged by hard working people, looking for a chance. It was forged by ordinary people doing extraordinary things. It was forged by people like you -- the people standing with me to power this campaign.

When there are people who have been diagnosed with cancer, staring at the ceiling, wondering how they’re going to pay for it, that promise hasn’t been fulfilled.

When a 50 year old who just lost their job feels like they have no options, that promise hasn’t been fulfilled.

When a recent college graduate looks at their first loan bill and wonders how they’re possibly going to make ends meet, that promise hasn’t been fulfilled.

And when a little kid wakes up in the morning, afraid to go to school because of their religion, or because of their immigration status, or because of the color of their skin, or because of a disability, that promise hasn’t been fulfilled.

A couple of days ago, I was walking down the rope line at one of my town halls, and there was a little boy there. He had a familiar anxiety on his face. It was the anxiety of a kid with a stutter, something I struggled to overcome when I was a kid too. I saw the fear in that kid’s eyes. I saw how people had put him down. Counted him out. Stigmatized him. Set an arbitrary cap on what he could contribute to this world.

I saw how he felt. I knew how he felt.

I’m going to be a President for everyone who’s been written off. For every underdog, every fighter, every striver. I’m going to be a President for everyone staring at that proverbial ceiling, hoping against hope that they’ll get their chance, too.

But first, we need to show the world what we’re made of. We’ve got to get up. We’ve got to fight. And with you beside me, I know we will.

Keep the faith, and I’ll see you out there,

-Joe

PS: These campaigns are expensive affairs. And grassroots donations are a real measure of strength and success. So if you could chip in $5 today, I’d really appreciate that.