1929
1968
I HAVE A DREAM
I om 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 seated 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 is still not free. One
hundred yeors later, the life of the Negro is still sodly crippled by
the manacles of segregation apd 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 languished in the corners of
American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So
we hove come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
In a sense we've come to our nation's Capitol 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 ore
insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation.
So we've 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 racla1 justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from
the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood.
Now is the time ta 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. Ninteen 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 that 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.
W e must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of
dignity and discipline. W e 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. And they have come to realize that their freedom is
inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.
And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall
always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who
ask the devotees of civil rights, "W hen 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 ond 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 N ew York believes he has nothing for which to
vote No, no, w e 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 oreas 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 hove 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: "W e 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 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 the content of
their character: I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day, live in a nation where they will
not be judged by the color of their skin but 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 plane and 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...This will be the day when all of God's
children w ill be able to sing with new meaning "M y 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 snowcopped 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 Tennesseel
Let freedom ring from every hill and mole hill of Mississippi.
From every mountainside, let freedom ring, and when this
happens.
When w e allow freedom ring, when w e 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, w ill be able to join hands ond sing in the words of the
old Negro spiritual, "Free at lastl free at lastl thank God almighty,
we ore free at lastl"