Another Slave Colony...

[Julian Munro]

I Have A Dream

                                                            by The Rev.
Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

                            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!"