REAL TALK from KB: This speech was delivered in August of 1963 and
here we are 51 years later still second in line, still demanding justice, still
waiting for this country to honor its Constitutional promise “all men are
created equal”…if the Constitution was to be taken figuratively it should not
be used as the foundation of our judicial system!
THERE IS NO JUSTIFICATION FOR SHOOTING SOMEONE 10 TIMES!
MLK March on Washington
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 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!"
