Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I Have a Dream" Speech!



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 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 captivity. But one hundred years later, we must face the tragic fact that the Negro is still 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 an appalling 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 would be guaranteed the inalienable 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 rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to open the doors of opportunity to all of God's children. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment 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. 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 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 and their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.
And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall 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 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 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 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 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, that in spite of the difficulties and frustrations of the moment, 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 a table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a desert state, sweltering with the heat of injustice and oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four 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 the state of Alabama, whose governor's lips are presently dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, will be transformed into a situation where little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls and walk together 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 with which I return to the South. 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 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 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!"

Dear White Americans Who Don’t “Get” Race/Racism

Greetings RLWT readers!! Ya'll already know I couldn't just let that verdict last weekend slide and not write anything about it. While I was gathering my thoughts I came across the article below and felt like this man completely nailed it. So rather than try to top him I think what he had to say about it will convey my point to the masses maybe better than I could have.

Just so that he also gets proper credit please see the bottom for the original link to his post and his blog.
Thanks for reading

Dear White Americans Who Don’t “Get” Race/Racism

July 17, 2013 jamin

(Unnecessary disclaimer: This is not a letter to all White Americans, but it’s for those who “don’t see color” or who feel that we are post-racial in America, think racism is a thing of the past that ended with the Civil War, the Emancipation Proclamation, Amendments 13-15 of the U.S. Constitution, the Civil Rights Act, the Voting Rights Act [which was just gutted to remove racial protection enforcement], President Obama’s elections, or any other law or event that somehow magically changed the hearts and minds of Americans. We are not post-racial and y’all really aren’t the proper authority to teach minorities about what is or is not racism in America.)

Dear White Americans Who Don’t “Get” Race/Racism:

I know that it’s hard to explain racism these days. I mean, with the absence of Jim Crow laws and slavery mandates, it’s hard to see racism clearly.

Racism is a gut feeling that something is wrong; an intuition, if you will. But most times, it’s not an intuition that is felt by you, white American who doesn’t “get” what racism is. Racism is associated with power and the ability to oppress others to the point of setting up self-propelled societal systems in which more power flows to one particular group than another. Most minorities don’t have that power unless they are in a management position at a job in which you work under them. What you may feel most times, however, is prejudice. Other races can be prejudiced against you to automatically assume that you prepare bland foods, maintain a washcloth-free irregular bathing schedule, constantly place bewildering and complicated food orders despite a long line behind you, have good credit, have a lot of money, or that you can’t dance on-beat. Social awkwardness, yes. However, none of these prejudices lead to your being part of a group that is maligned in society and thought the worst of enough to have a legal system validate that perception and do things like incarcerate you four times more than someone else of another race for the same crime.

You might believe that I’m a violent suspect by nature and that I am a thug when I wear my hoodie in the rain while walking back to my own home. George Zimmerman racially profiled Trayvon Martin and aside from wannabe white Republicans like Clarence Thomas and attention-seeking @GOPBlackChick from Twitter, most of George Zimmerman’s supporters are conservative white people. Generally, black folks are mad about the verdict and what it represents about the justice system as well as how race was used in the event that killed Trayvon Martin. We know that the way the facts were laid out and presented by the less-than-stellar job the prosecution did could have resulted, at best (according to instructions and Florida law), in a mistrial and felt that it probably was going to end up with a not guilty verdict, but no, we cannot simply let it go because of the overarching problem the entire trial and verdict represents. Are you getting it yet? Rest in peace, Trayvon Martin.

Telling me that race doesn’t matter in the justice system’s application of said justice, or that we are somehow magically post-racial thanks to apparent sorcery afoot from electing Barack Obama president twice, is offensive. Stop it. Your ancestors are responsible for setting the tone for race relations in this country and they failed at repairing those relations starting in 1865, and relatively few have bothered to care ever since. Your ancestors were conquering, enslaving people, yet somehow also the most timid, constantly doing things to oppressively ensure their safety on “top” of the people they conquered. (See: Manifest Destiny.) Conduct a séance to hash that out with your bloodline and stop blaming me and mine for those problems because we “won’t let it go!” Nope. Not going to. Never. Never ever ever.

Nahhh…huh uh. We ain’t doing that.

Richard Cohen, inexplicably still-employed Washington Post opinion writer, stated that black people need to stop being so threatening by fashion choices and perceived violence (I guess from movies, from what he describes). Look here, the onus is not on black people to dress or act in a way that makes you more comfortable if they act just like you. You’re allowed to be yourselves while you riot after your team loses the Stanley Cup or an Orange Bowl. You’re allowed to fall out of bars, drunk, at 3 a.m. on Sunday morning and risk getting hit by passing cars as you bump into them or pound them as they pass.

You’re allowed to do this:

When I moved into my mostly white neighborhood (I was the second person of color in my building and the only black person for over a year, and the only people who said “Hello” back to me for the first six months were my neighbors who parked beside me), I was changing the tags on my car in the parking lot on my birthday. I was dressed in a fitted T-shirt and jeans that hugged my legs pretty well. (I don’t sag my pants.) I also had on casual Skechers shoes and my hair was trimmed neatly and cut close to my scalp. I finished changing my tags and was checking to make sure I hadn’t dropped any screws that could puncture my tires. I had just finished when a couple from my building saw me looking around my car WITH MY OLD TAGS, REGISTRATION, AND TAG HOLDERS IN MY HAND, and asked what I was doing.

Her: “Can I help you?”

Me: *ignores her*

Her: “Can I help you?!”

Me: “Excuse me? No.” *continues to look*

Her: “Well, it looks a little odd with you snooping around the parking lot looking at cars.”

Wisely, her husband noticed my face rising up with the fury of my whipped ancestorsand quietly ducked around her, put his suitcase into the car and got inside. Smart man. On the other hand, this dumb, racist, inessential waste-of-creation [expletive deleted] decided to keep standing there.

So, I canceled out the idea of loudly cursing her out in my quiet neighborhood so bad that Eve would feel it in Heaven, and decided (staring her down, voice shaking with anger and wanting to lodge the old tags into her skull) to say, “I just changed the tags on MY car.” I showed her the visible tags, looked at her with disgust, and loudly armed my own luxury car.

(Fellow beloved Negroes, I know I owed her no explanation.) I wasn’t dressed in any fashion foreign to how everyone else dressed in the neighborhood. Enjoyably, her face was broken and she always spoke to me after that, even going so far as to hold the front door open for me, even if she saw me coming from a half block away.

Stuff like THAT doesn’t make ME feel safe around YOU. Yet, you’re allowed to live and not considered violent, even though most murders of white people are committed by other white people (Justice Department PDF), which is very high considering y’all are the most populous group in the U.S. and more spread out than minorities, who mostly stay concentrated in one area. So, let US live in the peace and freedom from prejudice that you so obviously enjoy!

You picking up what I’m putting down yet?

Racism, American-style, today is more like this: Let’s say that I punch you in your neck with all my weight behind it. You can’t see the pain. You tell me that it hurts and you might be irreparably damaged from it. I tell you that it doesn’t hurt and it’s not really pain. You’re exaggerating. I whine about how you’re accusing me of doing something that no one can visibly see until someone comes to my aid to scold you for speaking up about your pain and your accusing me of something no one can see. I’m whisked away somewhere away from you where I can resume punching folks in the neck. You’re still there in pain, hurting, and no one believes you or cares about your pain.

That is how racism feels – unseen and ofttimes subtle. And you can’t tell me that it doesn’t hurt just because you can’t see it. I say this all in love because God knows I don’t hate white people, but I really want those who don’t “get” it to hear me and get it together. We all have biases against someone for something, but let’s stop saying racism is over. Because, NAWL!

Love,

jamin

(P.S. – Stop Trayvoning too. Like, really?)


This and further comments from readers and the author can be found here:

http://keenepointofview.com/blog/2013/07/17/dear-white-americans-who-dont-get-raceracism/#comment-452