I was about eight years old when I found out who Dr. Martin Luther King Jr was. My mother had gifted me a recording of his speech; a speaker engrained into a slab that resembled a rock, his name encrusted on a gold plate.  I learned that speech very well. As I hit the button that replayed his recognizable texture, I remember enjoying the consonance in his voice when he said, “And one day (yea) this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed.” I must have played that recording more than 100 times. 

I later realized it wasn’t just the rhythm of his voice. I understood, on some level, that he was asking for something.  While I didn’t understand the plea, I would later recognize that virtuous urgency intertwined through calls for change.   There was a longing in his voice that would be the beginning of my subconscious development to seek justice and tell the stories of unheard voices.  

On this day that celebrates a man who fought for justice and equality, America transitions to President Donald Trump. While the only thing that is certain is change, and while some vigilantly advocate the way they voted was not indicative of their character others may argue to compartmentalize the two is a disconnect to democracy. 

What does make a democracy is our ability to choose, and with that our ability to advocate for what is right. Above all, this democracy encourages you to stand for something. In a time where there is work to be done and community will carry the balance of needed change — it is not a time to stand still.  

Let us be reminded by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr’s call for unity and grace, disdain for lukewarm sentiments against righteousness and stance for equality as we reflect in Dr. King Jr’s word and he stood at the Lincoln Memorial to pull people together across a myriad of differences to seek the promise of America in 1963 and said, in part:  

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

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

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. 

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, 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.