I Have A Dream
by Martin Luther King, Jr,
Delivered on the steps at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington D.C. on
August 28, 1963. Source: Martin Luther King, Jr: The Peaceful Warrior,
Pocket Books, NY 1968
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 nations 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
Gods 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 Negros 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 Negros
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
6
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 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 governors
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 strive together, to stand up for freedom
together, knowing that we will be free one day.
This will be the day when all of Gods 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 pilgrims
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 Gods 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!