Remembering Martin Luther King Jr.

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Last March, I made a choice to take an AP level US History course for my junior year history credit. I was told that the course was both physically and mentally exhausting, and some of the images seen and events studied would change me forever.

It didn't take long for that statement to come true.

From September until December, we attacked Civil Rights in America, starting at the very beginning of slavery, from why Africans were deemed as slaves and less than humans to cotton-picking, American born plantation slaves. We studied the Civil War, Reconstruction, and then reached the Plessy v. Ferguson decision, a court case which marked a turning point in both our curriculum and American History.

The case, brought to the Supreme Court in 1896, set into place the "separate but equal" doctrine which governed America until brave men and women such as MLK Jr., Medgar Evers, Rosa Parks, the Freedom Riders, Malcom X, and Robert Kennedy decided something had to be done.

During those 70 years, African American men and women were outcasts in their home country, in both the North and the South. They were treated like dogs, hosed down, brutally killed, mutilated, segregated, and spit on by every American who was not black. They were denied the use of vending machines, water fountains, sports fields, and grocery stores. Free trials did not exist, and going to jail was more common than going to high school.

All of this changed because of people, individuals brave enough to risk the lives of themselves and their families. They eschewed the attitude of defeat and hopelessness that was rampant amongst their community, and introduced a new idea, one which Martin Luther King Jr. became famous for.

Opressed African Americans would stop hating white men and women. They could hate the action, but they would love the person. Martin Luther King Jr. believed that a man could be killed or beaten, but his soul, spirit, and his love could and would live on forever. Love, not bulletts, would change the position of African Americans in society.

The idea was fostered by the African American community. They learned to work together with each other and sympathetic whites, and were able to hold boycotts, sit-ins, protests, peace walks, and prayer gatherings. The late 50s and 60s were very difficult, many innocent people were lost, but the African American community and its leaders held fast to their mantra of "We Shall Overcome."

The faith was not broken when four little girls, all younger than 14, were blown to pieces trying to attend Sunday school. In fact, at their funeral, mourners carried the caskets through the streets singing We Shall Overcome. The bombing was a reaction to Martin Luther King's famous "I have a dream" speech. It came after the March on Washington, a peaceful rally which inspired many Americans of all colors.

The faith was not broken in death, not the night that Medgar Evers was killed in his own driveway in front of his young children and wife. Not the night where 14 year old Emmett Till was brutally beaten and drowned in a river, not when bricks were thrown through the windows of homes of black civil rights leaders.

Martin Luther King Jr. day is not just another holiday. It is not just a simple day off from school or work. Martin Luther King Jr. day is the single day on the entire calendar when America stops to remember. We remember the way our country, "the land of opportunity", prevented a race from having opportunities. We remember the actions of our fellow Americans, the way our own neighbors, friends, and co-workers once beat people, tortured people, dehumanized people simply because of the color of their skin.

We remember Emmitt Till, Denise McNair, Cynthia Wesley, Carole Robertson and Addie Mae Collins.

We remember James Chaney, Andrew Goodman and Michael Schwerner.

We remember those who never had a voice to speak, an ability to fight, a life to live.

We remember Rosa Parks.

We remember Medgar Evers.

We remember Robert Kennedy.

We remember Martin Luther King Jr.

We remember the dream.

It's time to live the dream.

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 self-hood and robbed of their dignity by a sign 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. And some of you have come from areas where your quest -- 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.

And 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, and 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, and 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.

And this will be the 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 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.

                And 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 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 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 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, **** 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!