"I Have a Dream" full length
video of Martin Luther King Jr speech
"I Have a Dream" full transcript
of Martin Luther King speech
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 languished in the corners of
American society and finds himself an exile in his own
land. And so we've come here today to dramatize a shameful
condition.
In a sense we've 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.
And so, we've 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 quicksands
of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood.
Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's
children.
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. And 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. And 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. And they have come
to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to
our freedom.
We cannot walk alone.
And 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
self-hood and robbed of their dignity by a sign 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."¹
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. And some of you have come
from areas where your quest -- 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.
And 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,
and 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."²
This is our hope, and 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.
And this will be the day -- this will be the day when
all of God's children will be able to 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 is to be a great nation, this must become
true.
And 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 snow-capped 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 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:
