In a little over an hour, it will be Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, a holiday set aside in remembrance of the birthday
of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
Dr. King was
a chief spokesman for nonviolent activism in the civil rights movement, which
successfully protested racial discrimination in both federal and state laws.
After Dr.
King’s death, U.S. Representative John Conyers and U.S. Senator Edward Brooke
introduced a bill in Congress to make King’s birthday a national holiday. The
bill first came to vote in the U.S. House of Representatives in 1979, but fell
short of passing by 5 votes. Thereafter, 6 million petition signatures were
collected in support of the proposed holiday. Representative Katie Hall of
Indiana proposed a new “Martin Luther King, Jr. Day holiday” bill, which President
Ronald Reagan signed the into law on November 2, 1983. The first official observance
occurred on January 20, 1986. However, the first official observance by all 50
states did not occur until the year 2000.
Dr. King is
perhaps best remembered for his “I Have a Dream” speech that he delivered in Washington,
D.C. in 1963.
The Grantham University Curated Theater has puplished a moment in history video in honor of Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. The video can be directly accessed on YouTube at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RkqGGPUqkp0
Or conveniently watched in the below embedded player:
Every year
at this time, I like to pause and read it. I seem to get something new out of
it every time I do so. I share with you a copy of Dr. King’s “I Have a Dream”
speech. The text is curated by the National Archives, and can be sourced here: http://www.archives.gov/press/exhibits/dream-speech.pdf
"I HAVE
A DREAM ..."
Copyright 1963, Martin Luther King,
Jr.
Speech by the Rev. Martin Luther
King, Jr.
At the "March on Washington"
I am happy
to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest
demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.
Five score
years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed
the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon
light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of
withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of
their captivity.
But one
hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the
life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and
the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a
lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity.
One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of
American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come
here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
In a sense
we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of
our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the
Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every
American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men
as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life,
liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
It is
obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her
citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation,
America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back
marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank
of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds
in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this
check -- a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the
security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America
of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of
cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to
make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and
desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the
time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid
rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's
children.
It would be
fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer
of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an
invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an
end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam
and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to
business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until
the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will
continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice
emerges.
But there is
something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which
leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place
we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst
for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.
We must
forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We
must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again
and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with
soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community
must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white
brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that
their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their
freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.
As we walk,
we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back.
There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will
you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the
victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied,
as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in
the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied
as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one.
We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their
selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating "For Whites
Only". We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot
vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no,
we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down
like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.
I am not
unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations.
Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from
areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of
persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the
veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned
suffering is redemptive.
Go back to
Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia,
go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities,
knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow
in the valley of despair.
I say to you
today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and
tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American
dream.
I have a dream
that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its
creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created
equal."
I have a
dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and
the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table
of brotherhood.
I have a
dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the
heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed
into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a
dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they
will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their
character.
I have a
dream today.
I have a
dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its
governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and
nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black
girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as
sisters and brothers.
I have a
dream today.
I have a
dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall
be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will
be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall
be revealed, and all flesh
shall see it together.
This is our
hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we
will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this
faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a
beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work
together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to
stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.
This will be
the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning,
"My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land
where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside,
let freedom ring."
And if
America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from
the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty
mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of
Pennsylvania!
Let freedom
ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!
Let freedom
ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!
But not only
that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!
Let freedom
ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!
Let freedom
ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let
freedom ring.
And when
this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every
village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to
speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and
Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the
words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty,
we are free at last!"
