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\"I Have A Dream\"
by Martin Luther King
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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