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 slave owners 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!"
* * * * *
"If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should
sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted, or Beethoven
composed music, or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep
streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will
pause and say, here lived a great street sweeper who did his
job well."
-- Martin Luther
King, Jr.
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