Martin Luther King,
Jr. : I Have a Dream Speech (1963)
Martin Luther King
JR
On August 28, 1963, some 100 years after President Abraham
Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation freeing the slaves, a young man
named Martin Luther King climbed the marble steps of the Lincoln Memorial in
Washington, D.C. to describe his vision of America. More than 200,000
people-black and white-came to listen. They came by plane, by car, by bus, by
train, and by foot. They came to Washington to demand equal rights for black
people. And the dream that they heard on the steps of the Monument became the
dream of a generation.
As far as black Americans were concerned, the nation’s
response to Brown was agonizingly slow, and neither state legislatures nor the
Congress seemed willing to help their cause along. Finally, President John F.
Kennedy recognized that only a strong civil rights bill would put teeth into
the drive to secure equal protection of the laws for African Americans. On June
11, 1963, he proposed such a bill to Congress, asking for legislation that
would provide “the kind of equality of treatment which we would want for
ourselves.” Southern representatives in Congress managed to block the bill in
committee, and civil rights leaders sought some way to build political momentum
behind the measure.
A. Philip Randolph, a labor leader and longtime civil
rights activist, called for a massive march on Washington to dramatize the
issue. He welcomed the participation of white groups as well as black in order
to demonstrate the multiracial backing for civil rights. The various elements
of the civil rights movement, many of which had been wary of one another,
agreed to participate. The National Association for the Advancement of Colored
People, the Congress of Racial Equality, the Southern Christian Leadership
Conference, the Student Non-violent Coordinating Committee and the Urban League
all managed to bury their differences and work together. The leaders even
agreed to tone down the rhetoric of some of the more militant activists for the
sake of unity, and they worked closely with the Kennedy administration, which
hoped the march would, in fact, lead to passage of the civil rights bill.
On August 28, 1963, under a nearly cloudless sky, more
than 250,000 people, a fifth of them white, gathered near the Lincoln Memorial
in Washington to rally for “jobs and freedom.” The roster of speakers included
speakers from nearly every segment of society — labor leaders like Walter
Reuther, clergy, film stars such as Sidney Poitier and Marlon Brando and
folksingers such as Joan Baez. Each of the speakers was allotted fifteen
minutes, but the day belonged to the young and charismatic leader of the
Southern Christian Leadership Conference.
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. had originally prepared a short
and somewhat formal recitation of the sufferings of African Americans
attempting to realize their freedom in a society chained by discrimination. He
was about to sit down when gospel singer Mahalia Jackson called out, “Tell them
about your dream, Martin! Tell them about the dream!” Encouraged by shouts from
the audience, King drew upon some of his past talks, and the result became the
landmark statement of civil rights in America — a dream of all people, of all
races and colors and backgrounds, sharing in an America marked by freedom and
democracy.
For further reading: Herbert Garfinkel, When Negroes
March: The March on Washington…(1969); Taylor Branch, Parting the Waters:
America in the King Years, 1954-1963 (1988); Stephen B. Oates, Let the Trumpet
Sound: The Life of Martin Luther King Jr. (1982).
“I HAVE A DREAM” (1963)
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 of hope to millions of slaves, who had been
seared in the flames of whithering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to
end the long night of their captivity. But one hundred years later, the colored
America is still not free. One hundred years later, the life of the colored
American is still sadly crippled by the manacle of segregation and the chains
of discrimination.
One hundred years later, the colored American lives on a
lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity.
One hundred years later, the colored American 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 great 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 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 its colored people a bad
check, a check that 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 security of
justice.
We have also come to his hallowed spot to remind America
of the fierce urgency of Now. This is not 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 promise of democracy.
Now it the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley
of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice.
Now it the time to lift our nation from the quicksand of
racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood.
Now is the time to make justice a reality to all of God’s
children.
I would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of
the moment and to underestimate the determination of it’s colored citizens.
This sweltering summer of the colored people’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 colored
Americans 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 colored citizen 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.
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 colored person’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
white only.”
We cannot be satisfied as long as a colored person in
Mississippi cannot vote and a colored person 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
your trials and tribulations. Some of you have come from areas where your quest
for freedom left you battered by storms of persecutions 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 modern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and
will be changed.
Let us not wallow in the valley of despair. I say to you,
my friends, we have 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 out in the red hills of
Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slaveowners 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 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 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 down 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 engulfed,
every hill shall be exalted and every mountain shall be made low, the rough
places will be made plains 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 will 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 climb 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’s 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 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 every hill and molehill of
Mississippi and every mountainside.
When we let freedom ring, when we let it ring from every
tenement 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 spiritual, “Free at last, free at last. Thank God Almighty, we
are free at last.”
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