Service boy has a dream

• I look in the distance longingly, before turning to my fellow slaves*

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...

• I speak louder*

But 100 years later, man still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of man is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, man lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later man is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself in 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.

• pride and anger swell within me and I start again!*

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 people — yes, men as well as women— would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness! * I shout louder with a sense of inner triumph!*

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of cock are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the male people a bad check, a check which has come back marked insufficient funds.

• my pride returns*

But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt!

• I look the femdom in the eyes and continue to shout*

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 his 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.

• protesters begin to arrive and I begin once more, emboldened by their arrival*

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 gendered justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of gendered 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 man's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. today is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that man needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual.

• many begin to applaud me*

• I refuse to stop, and shout out*

There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until man 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.

"still, locked in the pillory, I turn to my fellow slaves and continueon my inspiring speech, which touches the hearts of all"

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 male community must not lead us to a distrust of all female people, for many of our sisters, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny.

• I LOOK AT HER WITH FIRE IN MY EYES THAT CANNOT BE QUENCHED*

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 man 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.

• I refuse to give in, I hold my head high*

We cannot be satisfied as long as man's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our sons are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating: for women only.

We cannot be satisfied as long as a man in Mississippi cannot vote and a man 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 unbroken. my soul is unchained. I turn to my fellow slaves and state to them*

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.

• I triumphantly shout these words, inspiring my fellow slaves, and causing many women to protest to our unfair treatment*

Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my brothers.

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 people are created equal!

• My words grow louder, and many more women join in the protest to free us*

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 sons will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by their genitals but by the content of their character. I have a dream today!

• my defiance grows and thr protests from larger as many of the women begin livestreaming my speech*

I have a dream that one day down in Alabama with its vicious sexists, with its governor having her lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, one day right down in Alabama little boys will be able to join hands with little 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.

• I jump atop the pillory and stand there defiantly, I continue my speech to everyone nearby, police women, passerbys and protestors*

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.

• I stand defiantly, emboldened by the crowds, I ramp up my speech to a beautiful conclusion*

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 pilgrims' 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 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, and 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, men and women, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old male spiritual: Free at last. Free at last. Thank God almighty, we are free at last!