I HAVE A DREAM

I am happy to join you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our country. One hundred years ago a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, 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. Came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is 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 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 is still languished at the margins 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've come to the country's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, signed a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This promissory note allows all men, yes, black as well as white, would have enjoyed the inalienable principles of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

It 'obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note for what it regards as her citizens of color. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check that is completed with the phrase "insufficient funds." We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this country. So we have come to cash this check, a check that will give us a presentation, 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 not the time when we can allow things to cool down or you swallow tranquilizing drug of gradualism. This is the time to deliver on the promises of democracy and this is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of justice. And this is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood and this is the time to make justice a reality for all God's children would be the end for this nation if not fully appreciate the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate impatience will not end until it is reached an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality.

The 1963 is not an end but a beginning. And those who hope that the Negro needed to vent their tensions a bit and then he will stay content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as if nothing had happened.

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 will not be built until the bright day of justice.

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 this process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds.

We try not 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. We will 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 to a lack of confidence in the entire white community, because many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied with our destiny, and have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. This offense we share, and that has made storm the fortified walls of injustice must be fought by an army of two races. We can not walk alone.

And as we advance, we strive to march ever onward. We can not turn back. There are those who ask those who demand civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We will never be satisfied until the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality is.

We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, can not gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We are not satisfied until the very social movements will be allowed to blacks from a smaller ghetto to a larger ghetto.

We can never be satisfied as long as our children are deprived of their dignity by signs that say: "Reserved for whites. We can never be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi can not vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, we are still not satisfied, and we will not be until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

Not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by 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.

And so, my friends, I tell you that even if you face the harshness of today and tomorrow, I have always before me a dream. It 'a dream deeply rooted in the American dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: we hold this truth self-evident, that all men are created equal.

I have before me a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of those who once were slaves and the sons of those who once possessed slaves, will sit together at the table of brotherhood.

I have before me a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state filled with arrogance, injustice, full of arrogance and oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have before me a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation which will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. I have before me a dream today!.

I have before me a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be humble, the rough places will be made plans and the crooked places straightened and the glory of the Lord will show you and all living things, together, the see. And 'This is our hope. This is the faith with which I go back 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 defend freedom together, knowing that one day we will be free. That will be the day when all children of God, will sing with 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 wants to be a great nation this must become true.

Re-echoes the freedom from the mighty mountains of New York.

Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania.

Let freedom ring from the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, the snow-capped.

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California.

But not only.

Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of 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.

And as we let freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, hasten that day when all God's children, blacks and whites, Jews and Gentiles, Catholics and Protestants, will join hands and sing in the words of the old spiritual: "Free at last, free at last, thank God Almighty, we are free at last."