Watch the full speech here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=smEqnnklfYs
I am happy to join with you today in what will
go down in history as the greatest
demonstration for freedom in the history of
our nation. Five score 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. It
came as a joyous daybreak to end the long
night of their 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. 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 a shameful
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, 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. 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 lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice t
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. 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 foundations 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. 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 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. They have come to
realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to
our freedom. We cannot walk alone.
As we walk, we must 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
the Negro is the victim of the 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 our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs
stating "For Whites Only". We cannot 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 jail 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, so even though we face the difficulties of today and
tomorrow, 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 the table of brotherhood. I have a dream
that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice,
sweltering with the heat of 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, down in Alabama, with its
vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping
with the words of interposition and nullification; one day
right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will
be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls
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. This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with.
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.
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 become 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 slopes of California! But
not only that; 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 when this happens, when we allow freedom to 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!"