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I
Have A Dream
Martin
Luther King Jr.
Like an unchecked cancer, hate corrodes the personality and eats away its vital unity. Hate destroys a man's sense of values and his objectivity. It causes him to describe the beautiful as ugly and the ugly as beautiful, and to confuse the true with the false and the false with the true.
Martin Luther King
Jr. |
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Delivered
on the steps at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington D.C.
on August 28, 1963
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
slaveowners 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 snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!
Let
freedom ring from the curvaceous peaks 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 every molehill of
Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
When
we let freedom 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!"
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