Video - Watch the full speech
here, transcript below.
It follows the full text transcript of
Martin Luther King's I Have a Dream speech, delivered
on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial at Washington D.C. -
August 28, 1963.
I am 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 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 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 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!"
Also called the
Persian Wars, the Greco-Persian Wars were
fought for almost half a century from 492 BC -
449 BC. Greece won against enormous odds. Here
is more:
