Today, on the occasion of the dedication of the Martin Luther King memorial “the Stone of Hope”, CNN ran the whole of the “I Have a Dream Speech”. We all know the dramatically rousing climax from which the speech gets its name, the part which was extemporised. The way in which he repeats, I have a dream. Like “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.”
But the rest of the speech is replete with metaphor and driving, muscular poetry. Martin Luther King evoked nature and its processes -mountains, valleys, winds- the forces that batter and buffer to tell the story of the challenge but also of the topography of the hopeful future. He spoke of the desolate valley of segregation, the whirlwinds of revolt, storms of persecution and the winds of police brutality. And then resolutely of the “sunlit path of racial justice” and the “oasis of freedom and justice”.
The wonder of the speech is its timelessness, and the depressing aspect is how relevant it remains in its descriptive and aspirational details. Thinking now of the Occupy Wall Street movement, how unchecked and unaccountable capitalist accumulation (particularly that not connected to the production of useful things, like financial speculation) is predicated on economic inequalities, on the marginalization of the many, King’s speech is remarkably prescient.
Listen to how he refers to those who “live on lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity”, of his refusal to believe “that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity”, of his demand for “the riches of freedom and the security of justice”.
It is from this speech those phrases now part of the lexicon of struggle come, like the audacity of hope, the fierce urgency of now, meeting physical force with soul force, rejection of the tranquilising drug of gradualism and finally the name of the monument, the stone of hope.
In contrast, Al Sharpton today, no slouch himself in matters oratory, reflecting on the current fight for social justice roared “It is not about Obama. It is about Yo Mama”. And that works too. As poetry and invocation.
Langston Hughes wrote much on the dream for racial equality. Think of A Dream Deferred. Here is another one:
Dream Variations:
To fling my arms wide
In some place of the sun,
To whirl and to dance
Till the white day is done.
Then rest at cool evening
Beneath a tall tree
While night comes on gently,
Dark like me–
That is my dream!
To fling my arms wide
In the face of the sun,
Dance!
Whirl! Whirl!
Till the quick day is done.
Rest at pale evening . . .
A tall, slim tree . . .
Night coming tenderly
Black like me.
I love this blog.
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What a gifted, visionary, orator and poet he was. We have come a long way, but still have many mountains to climb and many rivers to cross to reach that promised land.
The untramelled greed goes hand in hand with the criminals, who rob and steal the purses. I am reminded of Marie Antoinette’s response to hearing that the people did not have bread,”Let them eat cake” Oliver Twist is also never far from my consciousness in these times. We will not solve crime if we focus on the criminals at the bottom of the pile.
Thanks Roberta for the beautiful poetry,. I full endorse Auntie June’s comments about your obvious talent
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Hi Roberta,
Your perception in regard to that timeless speech and your way of expressing yourself, would suggest that you need to write for wider publication.
Love.
Auntie June
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Hi Roberta, perhaps by coincidence last night i had a dream that i was in Barbados to run the half marathon.
I arrive on Fri Dec4th, run the mile on Fri nite, half maraton on Sun am and then I leave for T&T on Sun pm. Are you running the race? If not could i still pass by for some good bajan/trini pelau?
Dave
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This was like the gentle shake in the morning, stirring one’s consciousness. thx.
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Today, it seems that dreams are becoming a bit more difficult to realize, we are no longer judged by the content of our character, but by the contents of our pockets, life is fast becoming not the survival of the fittest, but of the smartest and the richest.
The Arab Spring has started a winter of discontent, which is fast becoming a world avalanche of protest marches against the few who wants keep the mountains of poverty rising for the many. Greed and the accumulation of wealth, and material has taken over the minds of many and has now displaced love and caring for our fellow human beings. On one hand it is as the capitalist few are trying to crush our dreams of scaling the financial ladder to a better life for ourselves and our kids, and the criminal few trying their utmost to take from us what we as honest citizens have worked hard for, we now have criminals at both ends of the spectrum, one in the Wall Street offices of society, the other in the Common Street or the Back Alleys where we live.
But as humans with aspirations and dreams, we still hope for that oasis of peace and love. of sharing with the community, caring for each other, supporting each others dreams, healthy thoughts instead of destructive behaviors or thoughts.
We dream for a world where we will no longer be judged by the color of our money,
Or robbed of the contents of of our purses.
Where we can live in peace not fear,
In love and prosperity, not despair
To open open up our hearts
Let us remove those bars
that keep us prisoners
For all eternity,
We should not be each others enemy.
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Thanks Roberta,
We need to be reminded of these selfless, significant sacrifices to an enterprise that is yet a work in progress. They remain signposts but perhaps more importantly sources of inspiration for further commitment.
winston
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Ahhhhh. Thank you!
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