Posts
August 28th was the 50-year anniversary of the
historic March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom at which Dr. Martin Luther
King, Jr. delivered his I Have a Dream speech.
I don’t remember the first march, in 1963, when I was nine years old. My mother
belonged to the NAACP so I expect we watched the march on our old
black-and-white TV. Even though I don’t remember the march when it occurred, I
vividly remember images from it that I saw later; and it had a lifelong impact
on me. I continue to grieve for Dr. King.
I recently read an article about the making of Dr. King’s I Have a Dream speech. He and his speech
writers stayed up most of the night before the march crafting that speech. He
began with the text they had crafted. He got to the paragraph that ended, “Let
us not wallow in the valley of despair,” and he paused, overwhelmed with
emotion by the weight of the moment. Before he continued, Mahalia Jackson, who stood
just behind him, said, “Tell them about the dream, Martin.” Dr. King picked up
the speech notes, set them aside, grabbed the sides of the lectern, and
continued extemporaneously with, “I say to you today my friends, though even
though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream.”
From there on out, he preached for all he was worth as only Dr. King could
preach. He told it.
The dream he articulated, that even in Alabama, black
children and white children would one day hold hands as sisters and brothers, touches
the core of my being; for my children are in fact both those black children and
those white children combined. They are the product of a multicultural marriage
that would have been difficult to pursue back in 1963. In 1954, when I was
born, miscegenation was illegal in 16 of the (then) 48 states. Miscegenation
means “the mixing of different racial groups, that is, marrying, cohabiting,
having sexual relations, and having children with a partner from outside of
one’s racially or ethnically defined group.” Historically, the term
miscegenation has been used in the context of laws banning interracial marriage
and interracial sex, so-called “anti-miscegenation laws,” and is a derogatory term
used to refer to interracial relationships. Until 1948, 30 of the (then) 48
states enforced anti-miscegenation laws. The U.S. Supreme Court finally
declared anti-miscegenation laws unconstitutional in the case Loving v.
Virginia in 1967, four years after the March on Washington. Dr. King’s dream is
manifested in my marriage, my family, my children.
Today, as I look back at the March, I think it is extremely
important to remember the full name of that event. The March on Washington for
Jobs and Freedom. We must hear that name in the context of the obscene inequity
of distribution of wealth in this country, the shameful disparity in financial
security that exists between the poor and the rich, the shameful disparity in
financial security that exists between the struggling, sinking Middle Class and
the wealthy, and the evaporation of decent jobs for decent folks. Statisticians
say the recession is ending and the unemployment rate is going down. Don’t
believe it. That rate is down because so many chronically unemployed are no
longer counted. So many people are wallowing in that valley of despair that
King spoke of, having given up hope of ever finding a job again. So many people
are wearing the shackles of inequity and continued oppression built into the
system; a system that undermines the very concept of freedom by preventing
people from having real control over their lives. We lack control over the food
we eat; the water we drink; the work we do; the opportunity we want for our
children; our safety and security; the actions of our leaders.
Mahalia knew. More than anything, we needed to hear about
the dream in 1963; and we desperately need to hear about Martin’s dream again
now because there remains a long struggle ahead with much work left to do. We must
renew our efforts, rededicate ourselves to the task, and hope again.
I love the joy on Dr. King's face.
No comments:
Post a Comment