Martin Luther King, Jr. - United
States
"I Have A Dream" by
Martin Luther King, Jr,
Delivered on the steps at the Lincoln
Memorial in Washington D.C. on August 28, 1963. Source: Martin
Luther King, Jr: The Peaceful Warrior, Pocket Books, NY 1968
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!"
Heroes
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