The birthday of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. is celebrated around the country because of the extraordinary social justice impact he made in spite of insurmountable obstacles, obstructions and opponents. He was at the forefront of one of the largest and most transformational movements in American history — the Civil Rights Movement.
King was the son of a minister, and a minister himself, as well as a husband, father, philosopher, activist, Nobel Peace Prize recipient and author. He was a student and follower of Mahatma Gandhi’s nonviolent principles. Many of King’s protests were influenced by Gandhi’s models and strategies.
As the leader of the Civil Rights Movement, his safety was of constant concern. On any given day, he would receive 30 to 40 phone calls at his home where the caller spewed obscenities. He lived under a constant threat of being stalked, attacked, bombed and assassinated. At the age of 39, he was assassinated by James Earl Ray on April 4, 1968, while on the second-floor balcony at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis, Tennessee.
King was a peace-broker, a humanitarian, a public servant and a disrupter. The intimidation, obstinance, violence, dog attacks, hosings and beatings demanded disruption in order to bring about freedom, justice and equality for all. Many of the rights, policies and laws that we enjoy today were built on the sacrifices, protests, marches, boycotts, arrests, indictments and advocacy of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.
Women played prominent roles in King’s life. Coretta Scott King was his wife, confidant, speech reviewer and editor, and steadfast partner in the movement, as well as mother of their children.
Rosa Parks, a 42-year-old seamstress, compelled a charismatic yet somewhat reluctant King into the Civil Rights Movement, after she refused to give up her seat to a white man on a crowded bus. This act of defiance led to a 382-day bus boycott in Montgomery, Alabama.
In Harlem, New York, while signing copies of his first book, “Stride Toward Freedom,” Izola Ware Curry stabbed King with a letter opener between his heart and lung. He was taken to Harlem Hospital where his physician, Dr. Aubré D. Maynard, said, “If you had sneezed, your aorta would have been punctured and you would have drowned in your own blood.”
It was a ninth grade white female student who wrote King a letter and said, “I’m so happy that you didn’t sneeze.”
Gospel singer Mahalia Jackson, who was on the Lincoln Memorial steps during the March on Washington, yelled to King during his 17-minute speech to “tell them about the dream,” and he pivoted from his scripted message to talk about the dream.
Bernice King, his youngest daughter, is CEO of the King Center and continues to carry out her father’s legacy.
In spite of the endless threats, roadblocks and attacks, the Civil Rights Movement became King’s mission. He knew his work was provocative and dangerous. He also knew that truths had to be spoken, racism had to be resisted and, even in the face of death, justice and equality had to be realized. Vacating the cause was not an option.
King was not just the prominent advocate for African Americans. He was the advocate for all who were oppressed, marginalized, overlooked, silenced and subjected to injustice. This is what he meant when he said, “We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.”
The movement’s work did not end. It birthed new leaders, strategies, partners and perspectives. This year, as the presidential inauguration is scheduled on the same day as Martin Luther King Jr. Day, many people are pausing, wondering if they should watch, and praying for a message that pays respect to King and offers hope to a country beleaguered by fear.
King personified resiliency. He never walked away from a challenge, refused an assignment or shunned responsibilities. He was a constant teacher, role model and student. Based on his character and philosophy, I believe King would have considered watching the inauguration as a moral obligation, a social and civics lesson, and an opportunity to participate in a more perfect union.
We honor King during the month of his birthday — not by withdrawing, but by leaning in. Facing what makes us uncomfortable can make us stronger and more united, an extension of King’s legacy.