86730@LAWRENCE (Bill Sklar) (01/16/90)
I HAVE A DREAM
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 of 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 languished 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 granted 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; 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
movement and to underestimate the determination of the Negro. This sweltering
summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an
invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. 1963 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 freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. This offense we share
mounted to storm the battlements of injustice must be carried forth by a
bi-racial army. We cannot walk alone.
And 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 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, 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 excessive
trials and tribulation. 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 wrk
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
the Northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can, and will be
changed. Let us now wallow in the valley of despair.
So I say to you, my friends, that even though we must face the
difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream
deeply rooted in the American 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, sons of
former slaves and sons of former slave-owners will be able to sit down 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 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, that 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 shall be made plain, and the
crooked places shall be made straight and the glory of the Lord will 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 hear 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 new meaning - "my country 'tis of thee;
sweet land of liberty; of thee I sing; land where my father died, land of the
pilgrim's pride; from every mountain side, 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 snow-capped 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 we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every
village and hamlet, from every state and city, we will be able to speed up
that day when all of God's children - black men and white men, Jews and
Gentiles, Catholics and Protestants - will be able to join hands and to sing
in the words of the old Negro spiritual. "Free at last, free at last; thank
God Almighty, we are free at last."
Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.D2MG@SDSUMUS (Kurt Evans) (01/18/90)
Bill,
Thanks so much for taking the time to type this in. I read it,
saved it, reread it, and I'm hanging on to it. King had an incredible
gift for putting words together. I got goose bumps just reading this.
In Christ,
Kurt