A Tribute to the King
When I was a little girl, I remember being taught about the great Martin Luther King Jr, and all his heroic feats. “He fought for justice and equality for black people…He launched a city-wide bus boycott…He was the leader of the Civil Rights Movement…He had a dream that one day black people would be free from the bondage of racism…well, you know the rest I’m sure, including the tragic day he was assassinated in 1968.
Even after countless research projects, essays, and artistic writings, I never really understood just what Dr. King was fighting for. Yes, I knew what racism was, and I also knew that black people were treated blatantly different than others, but I never understood the magnitude of the deep-seated hatred white people had for black people, that is until I became much older. And now more than ever, their hatred can be felt and seen across continents.
Just as the Montgomery Bus Boycott spurred the birth of the national Civil Rights Movement, the public murder of George Floyd sparked national and even global attention, spotlighting the racial inequality and injustice Dr. King spent his life protesting and speaking out against. Never did I think I would be standing on the side of history where people from other nations would stand in solidarity declaring, black lives matter, recognizing my life matters.
While some people back in 1963, may have thought Dr. King to be naive and even crazy for verbalizing his dream to hundreds of people at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C., I think he was a change agent and gave a prime example of what crazy faith looks like. Anyone can dream quietly, but to dream out loud in the midst of doubt, chaos, and what looks like hopelessness is on a different level.
I am inspired and determined to live my faith out loud despite what these big brown eyes see around me. Words, no matter how big or small have the power to shape our world and I believe Dr. King understood this belief, which is why he raised his voice every chance he received.
And I encourage you to do the same, not just when things are going wrong, but when things are going right as well. Acknowledge the injustice and racism you see and speak out against it, but also acknowledge the compassion and love people still show to one another and speak up for that as well.
Dr. King’s heroic feats and tireless efforts were not in vain because his dream is being realized each day. For his dream made it possible for black men and women to sit at tables as decision-makers, rather than stand behind them as servants. His dream made it possible for white people and black people to share common space openly, rather than separately. His dream made it possible for black people’s voices and opinions to be heard on ballots and counted in elections. And though, there are still more heroic feats to be done and more dreaming to be realized, I stand in hope and crazy faith that all of us will one day be “FREE AT LAST”.
And now...
My post wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t leave you with pictures, videos, or something engaging to view, so below is an original poem and two of Martin Luther King’s iconic speeches, I hope you’re blessed by all three.
Until we speak again…smooches 
This Black Boy Had a Dream
So, here’s the deal about this poem, it’s a persona poem. I tried to imagine how a black male feels when he is constantly misjudged, misunderstood, or blatantly discriminated against. Like most people, I imagine black men have dreams and aspirations, but way too often racism prevents these dreams from becoming realities. This is what I attempted to convey in the opening stanza and throughout the poem.
I was thinking of my son when I wrote the second stanza. As a little boy, white women constantly complimented how “adorable” and “cute” he was. Now at 6 feet, I have noticed how their looks have changed. His handsomeness is still complimented, but sometimes it’s hard to tell if they are afraid of him or want to sleep with him…maybe it is both.
I also wanted to include the stereotypical occupations associated with black men in the past and present. Subservient jobs seem to dominate back then, and today, it seems the ideal job or the only career a black man is qualified to have is an athlete or entertainer, specifically a rapper.
Words in italics are not my own.
This black boy had a dream.
It was a dream deeply rooted in the
American dream. I was created equal
and could become…anything.
I was given certain unalienable rights,
could pursue Life, Liberty, and Happiness
But what happiness can I pursue
if they
refuse to see
me?
I’m sorry (not sorry)
my presence is frightening.
I remember when I was a little boy
white people enjoyed
my company. Some would tweak
my cheeks and call me cute,
their eyes would sing
at everything I did cause
I was adorable, not
yet a threat.
Then I grew.
Bass replaced my awkward
high-pitched voice.
My growth in height awakened
hibernating insecurities and fears,
recycled stereotypes
made them aware
I was capable of picking locks,
robbing their homes and
stealing what they got,
sexing their women
with my “enormous cock”,
and pulling a trigger,
killing them
dead on the spot.
My life is still sadly crippled by the manacles
of segregation and the chains of discrimination
They hold their truths to be
self-evident, that all black men are
created unequal.
That our only identity is the brown
or black flesh suit we wear.
They don’t care
that we have a name
and were given a purpose
other than dribbling a ball
down a court, spitting verses
over a tight beat,
or being their
waiter,
shoe shiner,
porter,
butler,
dishwasher,
or janitor.
My life is still crippled by chains
My identity still isn’t free.
I’m pulled over cause I fit
the convenient description
of a tall, black male. I’m jailed,
but not before I get
kicks and swift hits with,
billy clubs flying high
in the air, then forcefully
come down on my crown, but
they don’t care.
I’ve wasted so much of my destiny
trying to please those
who refuse to see,
this black boy is entitled to
the American dream.”
I Have a Dream
I've Been to the Mountaintop
Thank you for having crazy faith and blessing us with your writing talent. Your poem resonated with me. Especially the parts describing how as a young boy, your son was considered cute and unassuming. However, as he grew, he then became dangerous and menacing. Oh how the spirit of fear will have you see things that are not there. Any who… I look forward to next month’s blog! Oh what will the topic be this time around …..?
Thank you Annika for your kind words. I’m glad you enjoyed the poem. And yes, perspective is a huge factor in everything we do and say, that’s why it’s important to have a healthy one. I’m already working on my next topic and I hope you’ll enjoy that post as well.
God bless!