Saturday, August 28, 2010

THE TREE IN THE FOREST AND MARTIN LUTHER KING

WHAT WE CELEBRATE TODAY

I hope that the people at the below mentioned website have no issue with my sharing this morning.  I have yet to go to sleep because of the importance of this day.  You will have much to learn by logging into this website:
http://www.usconstitution.net/dream.html

Eventually, when I am not such a blogging neophyte, I will probably have cool links from my blog but now I just want you...probably all two of you...to have access to places that educate and give you an avenue to the truth.  I wish I could give you a Vulcan Mind Meld.  Although that wouldn't be "Oh Holy Night", it would be "Oh, Holy Shit."  I have, as my bio says, been there, bought the T-shirt and threw it away!

I remember watching Dr. King's speech on a black and white television in the living room of my oh, so white parents in oh, so white Kimberly Wisconsin.  But we watched it together.  I was mesmerized.

It precipitated arguments and nose to nose fights across the dinner table with my father.  Another lost phenomenon- the family dinner...my mother would get so upset but Dad and I engaged and argued and I never backed down and neither did he.  But eventually we got to a point where I forced him to shut up and at least listen to my point and I did the same for him...and by God, in 2008 he voted for Obama.  If you don't have discourse how do you make your point?  Even if it takes over 40 years.  Who'da thunk??? 

Back to the subject at hand.  I realize that I'm just re-printing what anyone could get on the internet...and I'm not egotistical enough to think that more than a handful of friends and relatives even check into this blog maybe every week or so.  But I also have a part of my heart that believes that when you put something out into the universe it matters because it's there. 

I believe that the tree that fell in the forest with nobody around did make a sound.  And not only that.  Bugs and burrowing animals and moss and insects began to make use of that silent tree.  And while we, who consider ourselves the smartest and only gauge of what is relevant, to every rodent,critter, bug,moss and algae, and in the soon dying high branches, birds, that fallen tree spoke volumes.  It was a gift of a home. Food. Shelter.  Something that many in this country look upon as only a dream.  But the tree that nobody heard matters. So I write my little tree blog.  Silent tree in the forest that matters.  Who knows who or what it may inspire, help, or shelter?

So, consider me a fallen Colorado Blue Spruce.  I am the fallen tree in the forest.  You have no idea how appropriately that metaphor describes me.  My music and art and creativity are gone.  I have been cut down and I landed with a big fat thud in a big fat forest. My art, my music, my creativity are now an afterthought in my life. 



So I do have a mission. I will continue in my attempts to educate and inspire.  In that interest, here, in its entirety, is the text of Martin Luther King Jr.'s speech in its entirety.  In his honor, please do not tune in to any news channel tomorrow.  Read the speech and honor our renewed commitment to make this dream a reality.  I sign off and humbly turn my space over to one of my greatest heroes, Dr. Martin Luther King Junior.

The I Have a Dream Speech
In 1950's America, the equality of man envisioned by the Declaration of Independence was far from a reality. People of color — blacks, Hispanics, Asians — were discriminated against in many ways, both overt and covert. The 1950's were a turbulent time in America, when racial barriers began to come down due to Supreme Court decisions, like Brown v. Board of Education; and due to an increase in the activism of blacks, fighting for equal rights.
Martin Luther King, Jr., a Baptist minister, was a driving force in the push for racial equality in the 1950's and the 1960's. In 1963, King and his staff focused on Birmingham, Alabama. They marched and protested non-violently, raising the ire of local officials who sicced water cannon and police dogs on the marchers, whose ranks included teenagers and children. The bad publicity and break-down of business forced the white leaders of Birmingham to concede to some anti-segregation demands.


Thrust into the national spotlight in Birmingham, where he was arrested and jailed, King helped organize a massive march on Washington, DC, on August 28, 1963. His partners in the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom included other religious leaders, labor leaders, and black organizers. The assembled masses marched down the Washington Mall from the Washington Monument to the Lincoln Memorial, heard songs from Bob Dylan and Joan Baez, and heard speeches by actor Charlton Heston, NAACP president Roy Wilkins, and future U.S. Representative from Georgia John Lewis.


King's appearance was the last of the event; the closing speech was carried live on major television networks. On the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, King evoked the name of Lincoln in his "I Have a Dream" speech, which is credited with mobilizing supporters of desegregation and prompted the 1964 Civil Rights Act. The next year, King was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize.


The following is the exact text of the spoken speech, transcribed from recordings.
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 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. 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!".


To view comments or to comment on this or any other postings, click on the blog posting title to the right. It will then give you a comments area where you can post your thoughts. Have fun. Don't be dicks or I will annihilate you.

2 comments:

  1. "So, consider me a fallen Colorado Blue Spruce. I am the fallen tree in the forest. You have no idea how appropriately that metaphor describes me. My music and art and creativity are gone. I have been cut down and I landed with a big fat thud in a big fat forest. My art, my music, my creativity are now an afterthought in my life."

    Excuse me, but ... Bullshit!! Your music and art and creativity are NOT gone. They live on in all of us who have ever been fortunate enough to hear you sing or play the piano, who have read your Christmas letters or this blog, who know about the marvelous adventures of your life. Thank you for writing this blog; thanks to Margie & Liam for passing along the URL; thanks to YOU for being such an inspiring woman! You'll be hearing more from me, I promise/threaten ;-) Love, Lori

    ReplyDelete
  2. Lori- THANK YOU. You have no idea what this means to me. I think of you so often and you have just given me a joy that somewhere, I made a bit of a difference. I hope you come back to see my response. Thanks for reading and let's do this again!

    ReplyDelete