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 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 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. 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 make real the promises of democracy. 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 foundation 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. 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 a 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 can not 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
the Negro is the victim of unspeakable horrors of police brutality. 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 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 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 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 the 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 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 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, and rough places will be made 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.
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 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
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 Stone
Mountain in Georgia.
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of
Tennessee.
Let freedom ring from every hill and 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!

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