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Books by Martin Luther
King, Jr.
The Autobiography of Martin Luther King, Jr.
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Strength to Love /
The Measure of a Man /
Why We Can't Wait
A Testament of Hope /
A Knock at Midnight /
The Papers of Martin Luther King, Jr., 1948-1963
Where Do We Go from Here: Chaos or Community /
Stride Toward Freedom: The Montgomery Story
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I Have A Dream
By Martin Luther King
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!"
Source: The U.S.
Department of State * * * *
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updated 17
January 2008
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