Martin Luther King, Jr. is someone we have all heard of. We have all talked about him in school. We have all listened to at least part of his "I Have A Dream Speech," we all know about his significance in the movement to end segregation in the United States. He's a very important historical figure, of that we have no doubt. And although I used to get annually annoyed when we discussed him in school (as I still do with Anne Frank and 9/11, for various reasons you probably don't want to hear), I am now a massive fan. For more than just the whole race thing, for more than just his famous speech (although that is incredibly important and I am incredibly grateful he brought about that specific change, etc.). I am a fan of Martin Luther King, Jr. because of who he was as a person. Because of his passion for right. MLK was not afraid to stand and push for what he wanted, what he needed, what the world needed. I have read his Letter from Birmingham Jail, a letter written to the multitudes of clergymen who had criticized his actions. He wrote this letter in a peaceful and articulate manner, outlining what he does and why he does it. He says, "one has a moral responsibility to disobey unjust laws," a phrase I have oft quoted. And I quote this not because I am seeking to justify reckless acts, but because, as Alexander Hamilton says in Lin-Manual Miranda's "Non-Stop," "I’ve seen injustice in the world and I’ve corrected it." (Or, intend to, anyway.) MLK wrote that "One who breaks an unjust law must do so openly, lovingly, and with a willingness to accept the penalty." Martin Luther King, Jr. was not breaking laws and protesting to start an aimless fight but to finish a fight that had been started in the hearts and minds of the more just sects of humanity centuries prior. He was fighting for what was right, which I'm sure you've oft been told to do yourself. He was making the decision to stop staying quiet. I first read this letter in my AP English Language class in eleventh grade as a good example of using rhetoric. Along with it, we also read Thoreau's Civil Disobedience. This essay, along with the works of Mahatma Gandhi and Leo Tolstoy (among others), inspired Martin Luther King, Jr. and helped to create the man we now know. These men were not afraid to speak up for their beliefs -- their beliefs full of righteousness and goodness and sincerity -- despite criticism, despite punishment, despite exile (although in the case of Thoreau, that final consequence was deliberate). Their rhetoric is "good" because of those fancy English-class words like pathos and ethos, but it goes beyond that, I think: their rhetoric is truly inspired by what they believe. Maybe that's the trick to writing good essays and speeches; writing what you honestly believe. Writing what you know to be true. Writing what every moral fiber of your body forces you to scream. These were not the only great men that did this kind of thing. America's Founding Fathers were treasonous to the British crown, and had they lost the Revolution, things certainly would not have ended well for them. William Tyndale, the first person to translate the Bible from the original languages to English -- an important action for making religion accessible to everyone and not a point of power over the poor -- was burned at the stake. Martin Luther, for whom our dear MLK was named, wrote his grievances with the Roman Catholic Church in lists which he tacked to chapel doors, an action which ended in him being both excommunicated and deemed an outlaw. The Book of Mormon prophets, most notably Mormon and Alma the Elder, preached and teached and wrote down their beliefs despite what the dominant ideas of the land dictated. Christ preached love, and because that love was not what his particular governing bodies wanted to govern by, he was nailed to wooden boards and raised into the sky until he died. These men, these great men who the great men and women of today are still inspired by, did what they believed to be right despite the consequences. And although in their time they may have been looked down upon, and may still be looked down upon by many today, they continued to do it anyway. They spoke out against slavery, they spoke out against moral injustice, they spoke out against institutionalized oppression. These men did not rely on violence to make the world better. They wrote invaluable documents, peacefully protested, and gave great speeches promoting the welfare of all beings. They were not John Brown raiding Harper's Ferry to give guns to the slaves, they were Harriet Tubman, helping the slaves sneak away to places they could be safe and loved. They were Abraham Lincoln, writing a document to set the slaves free whether or not people would obey. These men were not kind and persuasive because they were cult leaders trying to make everyone think just like them. They were kind and persuasive because what they spoke was truth, what they lived was goodness, what they believed was right. And Martin Luther King, jr. is our modern textbook example of this. His importance as being an instrument of change is largely clouded over by discussion of what he changed rather than how, but we -- as people who care, as people who ponder -- nonetheless have the power to use our words to make the change that must be made. He should inspire us to act, not just to talk with our like-minded individuals about problems someone else should solve. He should inspire us to stop staying quiet. “There comes a time when one must take a position that is neither safe, nor politic, nor popular, but he must take it because conscience tells him it is right.” -MLK
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
I'm Audrey, a college student and existential rambler.
Welcome to my blog. categories
All
Archives
February 2021
|