The Text
I Have a Dream
Martin Luther King Jr.'s historic address at the Lincoln Memorial,
28 August 1963.
01 Five Score Years Ago
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 their captivity.
02 One Hundred Years Later
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
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.
03 A Bad Cheque
It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory
note insofar as her citizens of colour are concerned. Instead of
honouring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people
a bad cheque 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 the nation. So we have come to cash this cheque — a
cheque 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 lift our nation from the quicksands of racial
injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood.
04 The Fierce Urgency of Now
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.
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.
05 Not by the Cup of Bitterness
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.
06 Meeting Physical Force with Soul Force
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 marvellous
new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead
us to distrust 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.
07 We Cannot Turn Back
And as we walk, we make the pledge that we shall always 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 water and righteousness like a mighty stream.
08 Creative Suffering
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.
09 Go Back with Faith
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.
10 I Still Have a Dream
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 slave owners 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 colour 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.
I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation
where they will not be judged by the colour of their skin but by the
content of their character.
— Martin Luther King, Jr.
11 A Stone of Hope
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.
12 Let Freedom Ring
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 come 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 the 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!'