I Have a Dream – Address at March on Washington

August 28, 1963. Washington, D.C.


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. [Applause]


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 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 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 inalienable 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 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 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 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 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 cannot 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 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 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 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 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, 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 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.

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 peaks 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 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!”


Izvor: https://web.archive.org/

About Stric Ivan 2527 Articles
Rano jutro pola pet. Svaki dan putujem na poso kod gazde na poso. Gazda je dobar bio pa mi je poso dao, jer nemam ni za suvu kiflu. Doduše jogurt sam krao dok gazda nije sazno da sam krao. Ondak sam dobio "vaspitnu" tri, četiri od gazde jer je reko da sramotim obitelj gazdinu i moju. Inače gazda je iz sela. Ja sam isto. Al nismo iz istog. Neki dan je bio neki čoek koji se hvali kod gazde da je izumio prozor (windows) i da je zaradio milijarde na račun nas koji nemamo prozor. Mene ne bi preveslo jer mi Prozor imamo u Bosni. I tako... Bio je darežljiv. Ja nisam šćeo jedan taj prozor (windows) al mi je gazda rjeko da ne budem nagao i da uzmem jer bih inače u protuprotivnom trebao za pare kupiti prozor. Kaže ćoek da je iz Amerike i da od para ne zna šta će pa je počeo trovat ljude. Oto se mom gazdi nije dopalo..."Mali!"-ovamo dolazi zovne me gazda. "Idi po burek kod "Trifrtalj Mande" i reci joj da ga zasoli ko što su joj pretci (burekđžije) zasolili Borđžijama. "Za Dom!"-rekoh i odjurih po burek. Trifrtalj Manda je bila ugledni buregđžija, a zvali su ga Manda jer je za okladu pojeo 100 komada ćelapa i popio gajbu piva. A ono tri frtalj je dobio jer mu je još mjesta ostalo za pojest u drobu, pa je ošo kući i pojeo još lonac sarme od prošlog tjedna, jer burek ne jede iz buregđžinice, jer bi time kršio poslovnu politiku. I tako...Vratim se da kod gazde i donesem burek. "Evo gazda ja donio burek, još je vruć, kaže Manda da ga je osobno sam izgazao nogama!" "E takog te volim, kad si poduzetan, kad radiš, pereš suđe, čaše, prostoriju krćme i kada naplatiš." "Dobro gazda, al aj mi reci što nikad ne uzmeš pare kad naplatim?" "Jer svakom drpiš trostruko. Šta si radio onom Palestincu? Jaseru Arafatu? "Ništ..". Jesam ja 100 put rekao kako nije lijepo gledat tuđu ženu? "Pa dobro, ja to od milja..."Od Milja!? Kolko ja znadem ti voliš od milja plavuše a Jaserova je bila crnka i dala mi je onu sliku Alajbegove đamije. "Pa dobro mogu i ja nešto pogledat ako je lijepo". "Možeš ali joj ne moraš davat broj telefona krćme pa da me zivka i psuje tebe, jer onda ja moram objavljivat rat Jaserovim ratnicima". Dok je gazda tako gunđo i kudio me, kaže gospodin prozor( Bill Gates) da je burek famozan, i da nikad nije pojeo tako sladak burek.(!?) Baš je glup taj Bill...burek ne može biti sladak, več odmesa, odsira, i odzelja. Gazda je stajao iza šanka, i glancao čaše, a ja ko ja, imao sam svoju odoru. To mi je gazda kupio. Čizme, pantole, kožnu jaknu, bijelu košulju i crnu kravatu. Eh umalo zaboravih. Gazdina poslovna politika je bila da svi moramo pokrov imati na glavi. Kapu. Ja sam dobio isti ko i gazda, zbog ravnopravnosti, kako mi je gazda kasnije objasnio. I moja i njegova kapa se zvala fes. I došla je Fed Ex-om sa Bliskog Istoka. Ošišo sam se na nulu, a ostavio sam samo brkove za znak raspoznavanja. Jedan put kad se zaratilo, da mi nije brkova ne bih dobro prošao. Uperio čovjek pušku u mene: "Ausweis sofort!" Ja neimadoh osobnu kartu i viknuh: "Heil Hitler". Kamarad možeš ić, reče jedan do njega koji je razumio i kineski. Eto od tada gazdu poznam. Imali smo i slovo iz abecede na njoj, a gazda mi je i to objasnio, da su se to Hrvati pod tim slovom borili da bi posvojili Bosnu, Hercegovinu, Sanđžak komad Italije točnije Trst jer se tamo išlo u šverc riflama. Pa da i oni zarade malo od šverca. Kaže gazda jednom prilikom da su moje najbolje koje postoje i da su stare 501 godinu."Dobro je gazda!"- jać nastavit sa pranjem suđa, a ti idi sa gostom ćakulat. I tako dok sam ja prao suđe i glancao čaše, kod nas su tijekom mjeseci i godina dolazili raznorazni pjevači Halid, Guns n Roses, Mladen Grdović, Serverina, Jelena Rozga, Lidija Bačić i neka grupa Sex Pistols isto ali bez basiste jer se oženio i ostavio bend. Kasnije kada sam porastao sam saznao da je svoju hanumu ukiselio jer mu se nije dopao ruž. Taj basist Sida je bio nadrogerisan. Za to je to i napravio. Ne volim drogu. Ondak su dolazili Viktor Orban, Donald Trump, onda je dolazio čovjek raketa Donaldov najveći neprijatelj jer stalno prijeti Americi sa raketlama sa borbenim glavama. Onda je dolazila Gabriela Merkel, pa Berlusconi koji nije nikada bio sam. Vazda je sa njim bilo cura plavih i crnih i crvenih. Ali ne ovakih crvenih ko što je danas crvenih i vjeruju u savez komunista. Gazda je nosio crvenu maramu pa je dobio traumu. Nije volio crvene i UDBA-u. To su brate Berlusconijeve bile žene za oko za ruku i za pojas okačit. Tolko dobro. Pošto sam bio konobar prišao sam Berlusconijevim curama i rekao: "Felatio, felatio!" Cure su ozbiljno svatile posao i dale na mene. Šta je dalje bilo, mogu napisati u svojim memoarima. Berlusconi je bio šarmer, i volio je darivati manje od sebe. Valjda po parama. Ja sam para imo kolko je gazda davao. I bilo mi je dosta. I ondak ko je još ono dolazio? Ček da se sjetim? Znam da od Srba nije niko dolazio jer su se jako nešto naljutili jer ih je gazda tamanio ko muve kućne u ratu. Mog su gazdu zvali prijetalji Herojem, al on je bio običan mali čovjek. I volio je bliskoistočni smisao za humor. I ja sam isto volio posebno kad je Berlusconi doveo par sirijskih cura. Brisao sam ja čaše i sjećao se kako su me izfelatirale. U mene je sve moralo biti u redu. Šank, police, gosti nisu smjeli donositi oružje, drogu, bijelo roblje. Crno su smjeli ali na vlastitu odgovornost. Prijetila je revolucija nakon Donalda Trumpa u Ameriki pa je htio postati kandidat da bi smirio stanje. Donald je bio velik čovjek. Al sam ja gazdu volio više, jer sam sa njim stalno išao u akciju. Vremeplovom smo se vraćali u prošlost i ispravljali greške ako smo ih neđe napravili. Ae! Imali smo više posla sa bogatima nego sa siromašnima. Gazda je to razumio, i nije dao da mi se išta dogodi. A pošto su kod nas dolazili razni narodni pjevači i sastavi kao što sam već rekao Guns n Roses, Sex Pistols, Damned, Real Kids, MC5, i drugi koje ovim putem stavljam na popis onih koje sam umalo zaboravio. Jest vala. Perem ja čaše i brišem kad nešto puče. Ja se okrenu, a ono čovjek iz Prozora (Bill Gates) osta rumena lica. Aha! Gazda mu zveknuo šamar jer je upetljan u trovanje čovječanstva sa nekim virusom Covic 19. Ša je bilo jarane!? -upitam ja kad je počeo čovjek prozor počeo nešto govoriti. Jel ti znaš đe si došo? Ovo je...ponovi za mnom i tu me gledaj. OVO JE!...sad reci krćma. KRĆMA...kod Satana...JES I LIKE SATAN...ne pitam te to majmune već ponovi...KOD SATANA...Panonskog...PANONIA. E tako...sad si naučio važnu lekciju da se ne zajebava i ne fali sa zločinom na javnom mjestu. Jesi skonto? Du ju anderstud? Imaš vraga u Americi pa nek te on odgaja kad nisu ćaća i mater. Bil Gates počme plakat i klecajući ode vanka. Pazi na kanal!-sam još uspio viknuti za njim. Nisam uspio u namjeri, jer je upo u njega a u taj kanal su komšije bacale govna iz cisterni u koje su upumpavale govna i smeće. "Znači gazda on se ne če izvaditi iz njega dok ne okaje grijehe svoje? Tako je mali! "Gazda možemo li mi iz Bosne uvesti nargile. Ja sam vidio u prolazu kada smo bili u Palestini da su ljudi pušili nargile i pili čaj. Mogli bi to uvesti kao posebnu ponudu zagoste." Šta će im nargila?" "Jel imaju ašiša? Imaju...Pa neka puše brate mili kolko hoće". Ionako ispadne sa kamiona svaki mjesec drveni sanduk od 30kg ašiša. "Jest vala gazda, znaš poso al ga zna i vozač kamiona. Štas mu ono reko? Budem li te vidio da mladeži prodaješ drogu, ostaćeš bez noge idući put kad budeš sjeo u krćmu". "A jes vala jesi ga ustrašio..." Takva je poslovna politika bila u gazde. Gazda je volio čist račun i žene. Svak onaj koji je mislio da nije volio taj se zajebo. Ako se nije ženio, to ne znači da nije volio žene. Pa ni Isus se nije ženio, tako kaže glasnogovornik iz Vatikana. Da ne kažem nešto teže, pustit ću grupu neku da pjeva, bolje nego da kažem neku parabolu, pa ću još i veći glupost napraviti. "Ta ti je pametna!"-Zapiši za sutra. Lepog Maria zovni treba se pripremiti za novi rat. Golub pismonoša mi je javio da počinje. Su kim, tj. protiv koga? Ja gazda ne bi više u sanitet...pun mi fes zavoja i tableta. Gazda me pogleda, priđe i odigne fes sa moje glave. Od kad ovo nosiš?- prosuše se tablete, ispadoše dva prva zavoja, pincete i škare za zavoj. "Od 1991 nosim!-rekoh. Ne moraš više prvi zavoj nosat, od sada i od ovog trenutka si razdužen ko i ja, nas rat ne interesira jer se rat vodi na Zamlji, a do tamo ne možemo niti svemirskim brodom, al zato imamo besplatanu internetsku televiziju, i gledamo šta se događa onima koji su a jesu. A ovo je njihov san, ono što sanjaju. Gazda, sad znam! Mogli bi smo se nazvat: Dobar, loš, jao! Može...reče gazda i zapali cigaretu iz duvankese.