Emily
Taken from the Facebook group "I Can Quote Gilmore Girls in My Sleep."
"I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.
"Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.
"But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. And so we've come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
"In a sense we've come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the "unalienable Rights" of "Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note, insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds."
"But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. And so, we've come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice.
"We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of Now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.
"It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. And those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. And there will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
"But there is something that I must say to my people, who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice: In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again, we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.
"The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. And they have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom.
"We cannot walk alone.
"And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead.
"We cannot turn back.
"There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. *We cannot be satisfied as long as the negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their self-hood and robbed of their dignity by a sign stating: "For Whites Only."* We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until "justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream.""I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. And some of you have come from areas where your quest -- quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive. Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed.
"Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my friends.
"And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
"I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal."
"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 there 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, and 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."²
"This is our hope, and 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.
"And this will be the 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 Pilgrim's 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 snow-capped 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, 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!"
(Martin Luther King Jr, 1963)
5 guilty pleasures:
5 books I want to read:
5 fears:
5 favorite places I’ve been in the world:
5 places I want to go:
5 books that changed my life:
It was cloudy, overcast. We descended down concrete stairs engulfed by the little of nature that the gift shop and tourist stop had not yet encroached upon.
It was warm but surprisingly not the typical hot June weather one expected in
We talked. It was nice to be together, just the two of us. It seemed a little out of the ordinary. Usually we were accompanied by a relative or we were shopping and surrounded by strangers and strange people, but something about where we were, outside and "one with nature," seemed to make the world stop. And we were alone, though dozens of others passed us by armed with cameras and water bottles and herding children away from danger.
At the end of the stairs sat a pimply-faced boy in a blue polo shirt who took our tickets and pointed us in the direction of a small path by what appeared to be a stagnate river. We began to walk towards our destination.
I saw it first but my brain did not comprehend what was in front of me until we rounded the corner and were directly upon it.
It was big. Huge. Beautiful.
I was stunned. I had seen pictures of it before, of course. I had heard about this place ever since elementary school when I had studied every year the history of our state.
But I was completely unprepared for how perfect it was. A sign to the left spoke of George Washington and Thomas Jefferson and I thought about what they had first thought upon seeing this bridge. I thought about the Native Americans who considered the place sacred. I wondered at the blasphemous fact that Thomas Jefferson had purchased such a place from King George for less than $3. It was unreal that any man could own it.
We walked under it and through it, stopping to watch the fish that swam in the now flowing freely river. We saw names carved into the old stone, and I read "Emily Stevenson" and wondered who she was and were she was and if she was still alive. Across the water on the other side was a small square carved into the stone in which I could just barely make out other carved letters and I realized that this must be were legend meets the real world. This was the spot that they said that George Washington had carved his initials just as one might carve one's name into the bark of tree.
We continued down on the path, exploring and meeting others who were as enthralled as us at what we had seen. There was a cave that was slightly boring since we could not go in, and down the trail there was supposed to be waterfalls, but she wanted to go back. Her foot was hurting and the others were waiting on us. It had been almost an hour since we had begun this little exploration.
I didn't complain but walked back with her the way we came. We moved quicker now, having seen everything already. Then it appeared again, and again we stopped and took a minute and breathed in. The sun was out now, and it was hotter. Muggier. On the other side where the water was still there was a slight musty smell. We passed through and under once again and I heard a man in costume telling some children about George and Thomas and the Indians, pointing at the initials "G.W." on the rock and I smiled.
We were back at the stairs and the pimply boy was waving goodbye. I took one last look back and thought, "How could anyone ever think that there is no Creator masterminding all of this beauty around us?"
And then I turned, and followed my grandmother back to the parking lot.
Today I saw the
Currently listening to: Paramore, "RIOT!" Now streaming on FBR+.
You like my free publicity? =)
So today I went out to eat with my grandparents and my great-aunts...and their live-in bfs. I have a very interesting family.
They're actually still here, but I got a little bored with their discussion on the dangers of myspace, gun control, and VA Tech.
Anyways, we went to this awesome little restaurant for lunch at the train station. watched the freight trains go by. that was cool. rode the trolley around town. it was nice.
After lunch we walked around the town and came to this shop where they make these beautiful glass objects (vases, hummingbird feeders, marbles, all sorts of stuff). Everything is hand-blown glass. (pardon my perversion, but does that sound just a little dirty to anyone else?).
It was so cool to go back there and watch the guy make all these beautiful things using hot, liquid glass. all he did was manipulate the temperature of the glass and tap it a couple of times and he was able to make these works of art. it was crazy. isn't amazing what people can do? i think i was having a very existential moment watching it.
So let's dig deep for a second:
What if all of this--college, life goals and dreams--what if it's not what you want? I mean, more than anything else in the world I want to be a published author. but what if I can't be? what if no one reads anything i've ever written? what if i am supposed to be a--a doctor? or a lawyer? or a housewife? and i've spent all this time, energy, and money grasping onto fool's gold? what if instead of dreaming about winning the newberry i should be dreaming about being a glass-blower?
I mean, when I was like 10 all I wanted in the world was to be a singer like whitney
now I'm about to be a senior in college. i've had so many opportunities in these past 3 years to change my major, but to do so now would mean more of my time and money going to college. I’m scared to death about life after graduation. (I know I keep talking about this and it’s getting old and boring, but what the heck. I only know of 2 people who read this.)
I think that’s why I am so concerned about my sister and brother’s futures. They are both so blessed with talents in music and art, and I really want them to use them. I mean, I don’t really expect my sister to one day be on the cover of the Rolling Stones, but if she wanted that I would support her. I think she could do it if she really wanted to. I just don’t want her to settle for anything. I don’t want her to think that such dreams are silly or too high or not “Christian” enough.
And my brother—I just don’t want him to ever think that he can’t do anything. He is so talented, but he doesn’t do that well in school. I hate for him to think that school is the only thing that matters because you know what? It doesn’t. now I’m not saying everyone should drop out of high school or anything like that. What I’m saying is that high school can only help you so far. If you can do well enough to get into uni, you can eventually study the things you are good at. You’re tested differently in college than in hs, you know? I think my brother gets so worried that he can’t do as well as he is expected, (frankly I am just a little more than pissed at his school about some of the ways that they are working with him), and that because he might get C’s and B’s means that he’s not as intellectual.
Because my brother is by far the nicest, most humble, polite and smart person I know. He is so talented in art and in how things work. I think for him he speaks most eloquently with his hands. My sis speaks her mind the most thru music. I’m better with a pen.
Of course, all these fears that I have for my sister and brother probably stem from my own doubts and insecurities. I’m sure a psychiatrist would agree with me.
God, I hate being 21. I already hate being a senior.
Life would be so much easier if i was someone like paris hilton...oh, wait, maybe not...
i got some interesting news today that i hope really comes about. i won't say anything at the moment in case i can't do it, but it involves traveling to distant lands and long plane rides and longer layovers in strange airports...
Going to chapel 3x a week might get annoying after awhile, but today's chapel was really special, especially in light of what's been happening in Virginia.
We sang this song, and I love it so much so I thought I'd share the lyrics with you.
This is "Deliver Me" by David Crowder Band (or Sarah Brightman, if you prefer):
Deliver me out of the sadness
Deliver me from all the madness
Deliver me courage to guide me
Deliver me Your strength inside me
All of my life
I've been in hiding
Wishing there was someone just like You
Now that You're here
Now that I've found You
I know that You're the One to pull me through
Deliver me loving and caring
Deliver me giving and sharing
Deliver me this cross that I'm bearing
Oh, deliver me
Jesus, Jesus how I trust You
How I've proved You o'er and o'er
Jesus, Jesus precious Jesus
Deliver me
Come and pull me through
Come pull me through
