Speech by Martin Luther King, Jr. “I Have A Dream”.

Speech by Martin Luther King, Jr. “I Have A Dream”. [VIDEO]

The late, great Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. delivered his famous “I Have A Dream” speech on August 28, 1963 at the Lincoln Memorial. READ his words (or watch the video) below.

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“I am pleased to join you today in what will go down in history as the largest demonstration for freedom in our nation's history.

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 of hope to millions of enslaved Negroes who had been burned in the flames of languishing injustice. It came like a glad dawn to end the long night of their captivity.

But a hundred years later, the negro is not yet free. A hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the shackles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro still languishes in the corners of American society and finds himself exiled in his own land. And so we came here today to dramatize a shameful situation.

In a sense we came 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 bill to which every American would become heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black as well as white, would be guaranteed the “unalienable rights” of “Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.” It is evident today that America has broken that promissory note as far as its colored citizens are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America gave the Negro a bad check, a check that came back marked “insufficient funds.”

But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are not sufficient funds in this nation's great coffers of opportunity. And so, we have come to cash this check, a check that will give us on demand the riches of liberty and the security of justice.

We have also come to this sacred spot to remind America of the stark urgency of Now. This is no time to indulge in the luxury of relaxation or to take the sedative of gradual maturation. Now is the time to make the promises of democracy a reality. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunny path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksand of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all God's children.

It would be fatal for the nation to ignore the urgency of the moment. This stormy summer of legitimate Negro discontent will not pass until there is a refreshing autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. And those who hope that the Negro needed to be extinguished and will now be satisfied will be in for a rude awakening if the nation goes back to business as usual. And there will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted civil rights. The whirlwinds of rebellion will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice dawns.

But there is something I must say to my people, who stand on the warm threshold that leads to the palace of justice: In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of unjust deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever wage 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 power with soul power.

The wonderful new militancy which has swept over the Negro community must not lead us to distrust all whites, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have realized that their destiny is bound up with us. And they have realized that their freedom is inextricably linked to our freedom.

We cannot walk alone.

And as we walk, we must commit to always moving forward.

We can't go back.

Source: Bob Parent/Getty

There are those who ask civil rights advocates, “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 find relief in highway motels and city hotels. 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 while our children are stripped and robbed of their dignity with signs that say, “Whites Only.” We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York thinks he has nothing to vote for. No, no, we are not satisfied and we will not be satisfied until “righteousness rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.”¹

I do not neglect that some of you have come here through great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from cramped prison cells. And some of you have come from areas where your search – your search for freedom has left you buffeted by the storms of persecution and tossed by the winds of police brutality. You were the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the belief that unjust 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 change.

Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my friends.

And 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 the true meaning of its religion: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.”

I have a dream that one day in the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit together at the table of brotherhood.

I dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state suffocating with the heat of injustice, flooded with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four young 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 whose lips are dripping with the words “intervention” and “nihilism”—one day there in Alabama there will be black boys and black girls capable 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 will be raised, and every hill and mountain will be lowered, the rough places will become plains and the crooked places will be made straight. “And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together”2

This is our hope, and this is the faith with which I return to the South.

With this faith, we will be able to cut from the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the turbulent divisions of our nation into a beautiful harmony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, pray together, fight together, go to prison together, defend freedom together, knowing that one day we will be free.

And this will be the day — this will be the day when all God's children will be able to sing with new meaning:

My country is yours, sweet land of freedom, for you I sing.

Land where my fathers died, land of Pilgrim pride,

From every mountainside, let freedom ring!

And if America is to be a great nation, this must become a reality.

And so let freedom ring from the amazing hilltops of New Hampshire.

Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York.

Let freedom ring from the rising Alleghenies of Pennsylvania.

Let freedom ring from the snowy Colorado Rockies.

Let freedom ring from the rolling hills 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 Mississippi hill and hill.

From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when that happens, when we allow freedom to strike, when we let it strike from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to hasten that day when all God's children, black and white, Jew and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual:

Finally free! Finally free!

Thank God Almighty, we are finally free!'