About ten years ago, my wife and I had a debate with my younger son about whether it was okay to be “color-blind.” We quoted a famous snippet from MLK’s iconic “I Have a Dream” speech that people ought to be judged by the “content of their character, not the color of their skin.”
Unfortunately for my wife and me, we not only misquoted from the speech, but our quote was wildly out of context. Like many people, we had never read the full speech, only the brilliant, rhythmic “I Have a Dream” peroration. Lines that still send chills down the spine.
Our son not only corrected us, but was instrumental in changing our point of view. He made the case, obvious in hindsight, that to erase the history of and ignore the current lived experience of a Black person living in America are acts of willful ignorance. To be “color blind” is to be blind to the reality that one’s race still matters a great deal in America.
In any event, here is the full sentence from the speech that we selectively and clumsily pulled from.
“I have a dream that my four little 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 bolded the words “one day,” because of course King was referring to a future that was still a dream. And you realize that it is a far-off dream once you’ve read the entire speech.
Any great political speech must have three elements. It must address a moment of urgency and importance; it must have the courage to point out unpleasant, even ugly facts and truths many would rather not hear; and it must offer a path of hope.
MLK’s “I Have a Dream” speech does all three brilliantly.
But the label “I Have a Dream,” although containing a magnetic appeal of hope, loses its meaning and context when separated from the first sections of the speech. In those portions, MLK spoke to ugly truths about the injustice of racism at an urgent time when the battle for rudimentary Civil Rights was being fought.
I’ve linked to the full speech at the end of this post. It’s worth a read or a re-read as one way to honor Dr. King. But below is one section near the very beginning that grips me.
“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, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable 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, a 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. And 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.”
I love the metaphor of the “bad check” returned “marked insufficient funds” despite the notion that the vaults of the “bank of justice” remain filled with opportunity.
Unquestionably, on an absolute basis, the living conditions of most black Americans had improved tremendously during Dr. King’s lifetime. And unquestionably they have continued to improve for most to this day. But it is fundamental to human nature to measure everything relative not only to the conditions of others around them, but as well to measure what is versus what is possible.
This happens at every level of society, even among the most privileged and prosperous. A Wall Street banker will be unhappy with their multimillion dollar bonus if people of similar seniority receive more or if they believe their bank had their wherewithal to pay even more. These instincts of comparison are so natural that we often fail to recognize them in ourselves even if we recognize them in others. And so we mock (deservedly) the fictitious banker in my example.
The concepts of justice and equality are always relative. And while America’s material prosperity has leaped ahead so greatly since MLK’s speech in August 1963, there still exists great inequality of opportunity and therefore great injustice. Not only for many Black Americans but for many Americans of all races.
I am a believer that the power of business and the search for profit, properly channeled and regulated, can generate great material progress. I believe this because that’s what history has shown.
But we must be aware of the stubborn fact that as America’s wealth grows, the greater grows the gap between the society that MLK dreamed America was capable of compared to the society we have today.
One of the first sentences in the speech resonates deeply with me. “One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity.
We must not forget that those of us who do not live on the “lonely island of poverty” have a moral responsibility to help those who do.
https://www.nps.gov/common/uploads/teachers/lessonplans/INDE%20Liberty%20Bell%20Group-1-Handout.pdf
Beautifully written. Thank you for this piece. More of a challenge during these highly divisive times and as we lose our middle class.
King said he hoped his children would be judged in a color-blind fashion. That does not mean we should not understand there are historical and cultural differences. He was addressing, I believe, the fact that blacks were being treated differently. Treating each other in color-blind fashion does not mean we are blind to all color. I can appreciate, for example, the differences in foods in different communities but I may not choose whom to hire based on the color of the cook/applicant.
While noting our many differences, and taking them into account, we should also note our more numerous similarities. King spoke of wanting a better life for his children, one filled with peace and opportunity. What father, among us, does not want the same? Mom and Dad King had all the same concerns as Mom and Dad (fill in the blank).
It was a spring vacation and my wife and I were home from college on break. We went to my friend's house where his mother immediately said, "Sit down and eat something." Later that day, we arrived at my in-laws and my mother-in-law who said, "Sit down and eat something" and it struck me that the two women were much alike, the first being a traditional Jew and the other a Black woman. At one table we ate matzah, at the other we were served ham and greens. The sentiment and the intent were exactly the same. (I never liked either matzah or greens, but managed a bit of each.)