Acknowledgment: wikipedia.org
To celebrate the Year 2013 Holiday in
Honor of Dr. Martin Luther King. Jr., the full text of his speech "I Have a Dream" is being shared to commemorate his ideals and the principles that he stood for until
the end of his breath. Martin Luther
King Jr. Holiday is a US Public Holiday every 3rd Monday of January.
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., delivered
this famous 17-minute public speech on August 28, 1963, where he called for an end to racism
in the United States. This Year
2013 will be the 50th Year since “I have a Dream” was delivered. And 50
years later, our nation the United States of America is still divided as a
nation in principles and in deeds.
For a great reading experience, please
allow yourself to be in the position of one among those listeners to his speech when he delivered 50 years ago.
~~~~
acknowledgment: ktvn.com
I have a Dream
Dr. Martin Luther
King Jr.
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!"
- end -
