Posted below are Senate Minority Leader Bruce Tarr’s remarks
regarding Martin Luther King, Jr. Day:
“His dreams were the
natural reflex of hope and redeemed curiosity.” ― Michael Eric Dyson,
April 4, 1968: Martin Luther King, Jr.'s Death and How It Changed America
On this day, it is my hope that everyone takes a few moments
to reflect on the life of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Through his actions of leading nonviolent
protests and the ability to galvanize people with his messages of hope and
equality, Dr. King symbolized the sacred mission of this nation that “all men
are created equal”.
As a nation, we are truly a better people because of the
courage, faith and perseverance of Dr. King and his moral path of ending
segregation and racial injustice. He
preached tolerance to all, asking everyone to love their enemy, even when his
and his family’s lives were in constant jeopardy. Dr. King stood on the front line of one of
the most divisive times in American history, and because of him, this nation
was led to a better Union.
Dr. King’s messages of brotherhood and equality still echo
today, and his contributions will continue to inspire unborn individuals for
generations to come. Had he not been
assassinated on April 4, 1968 he would have been 84 years old. Posted below is his 1963 public speech “I
Have a Dream”, which was delivered in front of a crowd of approximately 200,000
civil rights supporters during a rally in Washington D.C. in front of the
Lincoln Memorial.
Full text to the
"I Have a Dream" speech:
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!"
