I have literally seen more pictures of David Bowie today than recognition of Dr. King.
I've seen that video of that hamster tucked into a blanket eating a carrot for the fifteenth time. I've seen about 89 things about Harry Potter that aren't even related to the loss of Alan Rickman. I've seen my idiot ex's drugged out face. I've seen the new (terrible) haircut of a man I'm terrified of and have gone out of my way to avoid. And I've seen the same damn video about how to create bacon cheese egg muffins, which, frankly, are wholly unnecessary.
And 12 posts about Dr. King.
What the actual fuck?
This man's bravery is inimitable. He was a martyr in the truest sense of the word: he died for his cause. He fought for change through peace and wisdom, knowing full well that he would die for it. He did it anyway. How many people do you know of that have fervently devoted themselves to a cause for the greater good, directly, unabatedly conscious every morning when they woke up that their lives would come to an end for it? I can think of three off the top of my head. One of them was a contemporary of Dr. King's. The other one died a few thousand years ago, and I'm pretty sure that the majority of the people in this country have his unauthorized biography on their shelves.
I'm not saying that Dr. King should be worshipped. He was a man, after all, and carried a man's vices with him even as he brought change down upon this world. But his bravery should be admired. The revolutionary political figure accepts that they might be assassinated. Black men walk to the grocery store at night, afraid that they might be assassinated. He knew. Without a doubt. And he did it all anyway.
 |
| "Pictured here is one of the last pictures of Dr Martin Luther King's loyal lieutenants inspecting their leader's mortal remains one last time. January 12, 1929 - April 4, 1968. Dr. King was 39 years old at the time of his death. Lest we forget..." —Chuck Hobbs |
I have more white sisters and brothers than I can count. And I guarantee that had Dr. King not been born, I would not have those sisters and brothers, and they would not have me. Not in the way that they do. Not in the way that I do. My grandmother, born in 1925, couldn't vote when she came of age. And yet, she lived to see a man elected President of the United States who was the same race as she. Would that have happened for her without Dr. King's work? Would life as it is happen if not for his achievements? Look down, everyone. We stand on his shoulders, and on the shoulders of everyone before him.
I've shared this jarring, ugly photo as a reminder. This country rarely, if ever, gives all 100% of its citizens a common something to appreciate. But it has given us this day to remember that Dr. King was born, and what he did for all of us in his short life.
"We shall overcome someday." He believed that fully, and we of course have infinite chances to. But we haven't yet. Almost 50 years after this man laid down his life, we haven't. His life, and death, is not for nothing, not by any means. But if I met him right now, after all that he'd done, I would be ashamed to tell him that everything has changed and yet nothing has.
His death is not fresh in anyone's minds. It was half a century ago. But today, it should be.
