How Did "I Have a Dream" Matter to My Neighbors in 1963?

Lincoln Memorial

On this date in history, August 28, 1963, the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. delivered his immortal speech, “I Have a Dream,” from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington DC. So many people have written and said so many things about this great speech. The speech was not really about a dream. King’s powerful images shook people’s hearts, but metaphors were not his point. His point was freedom. Let me back up and tell a story.

On August 29, 1963, the morning after the speech, I was an 11 (almost 12) year old boy waiting for the school bus on the corner a half-block from my house. The Lincoln Memorial was less than 20 miles from my parents’ almost new split-level. I was excited to start seventh grade at Sidney Lanier Intermediate. My biggest fear was to wonder how I would navigate the seemingly huge school.

The neighborhood was buzzing with commentary, not only about King’s speech, which disturbed and frightened almost everyone I knew, but also the massive demonstration on the Washington Mall. At the time, the crowd’s size and impatience dominated my neighbors’ thinking. Folks shook their heads at what they perceived to be a chaotic mess. And, indeed, my young friends at the bus stop shared in the excitement—and the concern. It is no secret that King terrified many white people. As should surprise no one, my neighborhood was (like almost all Virginia neighborhoods at the time) strictly segregated.

For the most part, my friends and their parents were not racists in any of the usual senses, at least not as white people understood racism in 1963. My schoolmates were nice kids who grew up in loving homes. They did not seethe with ill will. They were not angry.

Yet, one of my bus-stop companions asked, with disgust in his voice, “What do they want?” My best friend, Duncan, calmly replied, “They want their freedom.” I was never so proud to know him. Duncan grew up in a conservative home, much more conservative than my own, but he understood human dignity with a wisdom that belied his youth, his crewcut, and his traditional Oxford shirt. Somehow, I had never before understood civil rights with such simplicity, such clarity.

No one responded. Not even me. Awkward silence continued until the bus showed up a few minutes later. It was a learning moment for me, maybe for all of us. Yes, the clips of King’s speech on the news the night before thrilled the ears. In the long run, however, it is the audience, not the speaker, that makes a speech successful. What message did the audience need to hear? “They want their freedom.”

Dreaming was King’s metaphor, but it was not his main point. No, instead, his point was freedom. His thrilling conclusion talked about the centuries-long struggle for freedom:

“And when this happens, and when we allow freedom to 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, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual:

“Free at last! Free at last!

“Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!”

Did the struggle for freedom end in victory? On the one hand, yes. Congress soon passed the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965. On the other hand, no. It seems that every few weeks in 2022 we hear about a police officer shooting an unarmed Black person. Mistakenly thinking that the struggle for civil rights was over, the United States Supreme Court gutted the Voting Rights Act. Even the freest nation is never more than one election from tyranny. King’s message: People want their freedom.


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P.S. Of course, as times change, we notice that King didn’t mention freedom for women: “black men and white men.”

Image: National Park Service