Marching the Dream

Yesterday my daughter, her friend, my stepdaughter and I braved an unusually bitter-cold morning to join several thousand people to walk nearly three miles in unity and to honor Martin Luther King, Jr. My husband wanted to join us, but a water leak in a bathroom the night before had him chillin’ with the plumber all day. Last year’s march became one of the largest in the country when 100,000 people participated, but this year a rare blast of arctic weather kept many San Antonians off the streets in lieu of the comfort of their warm and toasty beds. This was the first time my girls and I marched together and for me, it was the granting of the first of my many birthday wishes. I have always been proud to have been born on the same day as the man who reminded the world that we are to respect and love one another, no matter the color of skin one is born with and I believe he influenced my thoughts and my life in many ways.

I was around 7 or 8 when I first heard of Martin Luther King, Jr. and because we shared the same birth date, I was intrigued to learn more about him and his life’s work. I remember being horrified to learn of the cruelty people could mount on each other simply because of the color of another’s skin. I remember experiencing confusion and anger as I read about the horrific and inhumane acts of the Klan in the south. As I read about the struggles of Dr. King, Rosa Parks, SNCC and the countless others who placed their lives at risk to bring justice and equality to their towns and the country as a whole, I remember feeling physically ill at the thought of grown-ups treating each other with such disrespect and hatred. When I saw the photos of the Little Rock 9, as they bravely and proudly stepped through the crowd of hostile and ugly protestors and launched the first day of desegregation in Arkansas, I wondered how the adults in the picture missed the classic Sunday School lesson of “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” No one deserved to be treated with such cruelty and it was likely then that I made the decision to help people achieve a better life when I grew up. I remember crying as I read about the assassinations of King, Evers, and later seeing the senseless deaths of the Kennedy brothers and John Lennon on television—could the dream of peace be silenced by a round of bullets launched on a trajectory of hatred?

The march represents so much for our country and for each and every one of us. On January 15 we honored and remembered a great leader and his message of peace, nonviolence and equal treatment for different races. We remembered his message and once again realize that it should not be forgotten nor taken for granted. Although we have come far since the early years of the American civil rights movement, I wish I could say that 40 years after Dr. King’s death the diseases of racism and inequality were successfully eradicated, much like mumps and measles in the States. And as the war in Iraq continues to escalate and our president announces his plan to deploy another 28,000 young men and women to war, I wish I could say with pride that nonviolence was status quo for our country. Unfortunately, the United States still has quite a ways to go, but I hold out hope that when my young daughter is my age we will be much closer to becoming a peaceful, color-blind nation.

Thought for the Day: Martin Luther King encouraged us to stand up and join hands in support of peaceful, humanitarian evolution. What can you do in your life this week to nurture and incorporate more love and peace in your home and community? What conversations can you have with your children about acceptance, love and respect of others so that as they grow they will live and germinate the message of Dr. King?

“I refuse to believe that mankind is so bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daylight of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality. I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word.” MLK