Remembering why MLK died
Today we celebrate his birth and life, but why did Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. die?
Today I woke up with a distinct heavy sensation. Checking my phone, an email from a big box retailer: “MLK day sale”. I wasn’t even out of bed and the battle for his legacy began as regularly as the sun rising in my window this morning.
It is a battle. Dr. King wasn’t the palatable version of Malcom X. White america did not approve of him in life and barely did so in his immediate death. Since his passing white america has sought to redefine his legacy into something it can digest, redact, excise the undesirable parts of him and emphasize the harmless uplifting ones.
In adulthood I realize how little value his “I have a dream” speech is to black Americans or America as a nation without the context in which King lives his life. The summary of the theme: “Let’s play pretend about race”. I think Dr. King recognized this as well. He gave that speech in 1963. He was assasinated April 4th, 1968. Between those two dates he endured much. In his last speech he spoke about unionization and the collective economic power of black people. I think he realized (white) America would not wake up, and while non-violence would remain his approach, he would speak languages closer to what capitalism understands: money and political capital. To forget and remove the controversy with which Dr. King lived his life is to remove what makes the vision represented in “I have a Dream” so very powerful.
Today we celebrate his birth and life, but I wonder what it also means to consider his death. To consider why he died. To grapple with that question, I think, is to connect the electrifying reality of Dr. King directly to where we are today as a country:
We can speak about equality on small levels, but when we address the valuelessness of black life, we are dismissed. We can study and unveil the school-to-prison pipeline, but when we kneel to address police brutality we are met with resentment. The country can recognize the whiter “opioid epidemic” with compassion while at the same time patently ignore the domestic terror of (and systemically-biased) “war on drugs” and how it has targeted our communities.
To really begin to see Dr. King is to recognize that if he were still alive that we would kill him all over again. “I have a dream” was written by someone whose vision is so clear they will stop at nothing to see us there. People like that are always dangerous to those with power as they seek to disrupt the status quo.
I think that to honor Dr. King’s legacy we need to consider our own vision for our future. Is our vision safe? Does it ask a little of you or a lot? Have you managed your expectations to make them more palatable to others? Yourself? Is your vision influenced by your own fears?
Dr. King wasn’t a man without fear. He was someone whose vision was clearer than his fears were big. Dreams have value when we’re more afraid to let our vision slip away than to march through our tough decisions.
Today I am trying to honor Dr. King's legacy by affirming my vision and encouraging others to love themselves and to love each other. What’s your vision?
Share this with someone that needs to hear it.
We are marching on,
Keith
Reverend Doctor