I Have a Dream

I debated for the last week or so about how I wanted to commemorate the 50th anniversary of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech in Washington. I didn’t want to make it too political, but I didn’t want us to think we can’t still be motivated by his words as people in the gay community. I have chosen to post his speech in it’s entirety. I don’t want to take away from the message he made that day, but I want anyone, regardless of their own struggle will think of the inspiration that came from this speech, and the inspiration that was Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

I know a lot of people are using the hashtag #DreamDay on Twitter, so I’ll leave you with what my dream is. I dream of a day when people won’t be judged by who they love, but by the way they love.

“I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, 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 their captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is 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 a shameful 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, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable 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, a 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 make real the promises of democracy. 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 lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God’s children.
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. 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 a 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. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.

As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always 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 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 selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs 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. 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 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, 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, 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 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.

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 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 to 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!” – Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Aug 28, 1963

 

What’s your dream?

 

We Can’t Keep Sweeping Race Under the Rug

Trayvon Martin

In 2005, I was wrapping up my first year at Missouri State University. I chose to take summer courses at the local community college in my hometown. One of the courses I took was an introduction to sociology course. One thing I learned from that course that still resonates with me today was when our professor called a student out on the issue of race. I can’t remember the exact issue the man brought up, but I do remember her response. She said, “I will accept dissenting opinions that are based on fact, but one thing I will not tolerate is sweeping the issue of race under the rug.”

The death of Trayvon Martin was a tragedy. The case caused the issue of race in America to resurface. While I without a doubt believe the prosecution did a poor job of proving their case and never wanted to prosecute George Zimmerman in the first place, I believe there are several elements that prove George Zimmerman was negligent in his actions that resulted in the death of Trayvon Martin. So many people wrote on Twitter and other social media that the justice system failed us in this trial. The truth of the matter is our justice system didn’t fail us in this trial but the prosecution did.

George Zimmerman

I don’t believe race was as big of an issue as the mainstream media portrayed it to be, but it has reignited the debate on race relations in America. Was Trayvon Martin profiled? Without a doubt he was. I just don’t know if he was profiled because of his race, or for the fact that he was a suspicious individual walking down the street in a hoodie. I’m not in any way excusing George Zimmerman’s profiling of Trayvon, but what exactly he profiled about Martin is up for debate.

Don West and Mark O’Mara, the two defense attorneys for George Zimmerman made some startling comments after the not guilty verdict was handed down that makes me worry about the future of America. Don West stated that the prosecution of George Zimmerman was disgraceful. Mark O’Mara said that if George Zimmerman had been a black man this case would have never been tried. O’Mara is the same man that days before the verdict was read stated that race wasn’t an issue in the case on ABC News. I responded to Mark O’Mara’s comments fairly strongly on Twitter. I wrote,

“GZ’s attorneys ignore the fact that blacks are disproportionately represented in criminal cases. If GZ was black, he’d face death penalty.”

The fact of the matter is that while African-Americans make up approximately 12% of the American population, they represent over 40% of those incarcerated. Inequalities exist in the American justice system and there is no denying that fact.

For those that have followed the trial of George Zimmerman from the very start, you may remember that the defense originally intended to claim the “Stand Your Ground Law” to defend George Zimmerman. The law ended up getting pushed aside so the defense could focus more on Zimmerman’s right to self-defense.

Marissa Alexander

For those unfamiliar with “Stand Your Ground,” in Florida, it’s the right for individuals to not back down when they feel threatened in a situation. This trial exposed gaping flaws in this law. More damning evidence that this law is flawed and the inequalities of minorities in the criminal justice system comes to light in the 2012 trial of Marissa Alexander of Florida. She shot warning shots into a wall to warn her abusive husband that she was standing her ground. She referenced stand your ground in her defense, but she ended up getting charged with aggravated assault and was offered a plea deal of three years in prison. She rejected the plea deal by the same prosecutor that reluctantly pressed charges against George Zimmerman. She opted to go to trial. Marissa Alexander, a woman that had graduated with her masters degree, had three children and had been hospitalized in the past by her abusive husband was found guilty by a jury of her peers and sentenced to 20 years in prison.

Another example of how blacks are treated poorly by the justice system comes in the form of penalties for cocaine. Crack cocaine is more likely to be used by poor black people compared to affluent whites using powder cocaine. Before President Barack Obama signed the ‘Fair Sentencing Act,’ in 2010, people caught with crack cocaine could be charged more harshly compared to individuals possessing powder cocaine. Under federal law there was a five year minimum sentence for the possession of crack. That gaping injustice was patched up by the Fair Sentencing Act being signed into law.

Crack Cocaine

It’s no secret that black people are given a harder time in the criminal justice system across the United States. They are disproportionately represented in prisons, they receive stricter penalties when they commit crimes, and they are more likely to be victims of violent crimes. When we begin advocating for equal justice for all, we can progress as a nation. We can’t continue to ignore the issue of race and crime in America. Trayvon Martin had helped us to remember this problem we have in America still exists today. We must begin a national dialogue for real reform in the American justice system. If there is one thing Trayvon Martin taught me, it’s that we can’t continue sweeping race under the rug any more.