Madam President, it is an honor to join my colleagues of both parties on the floor today to read one of the greatest pieces of writing of the 20th century, Dr. King's letter from the Birmingham jail. I thank Senators Warnock, Tillis,…
Madam President, it is an honor to join my colleagues of both parties on the floor today to read one of the greatest pieces of writing of the 20th century, Dr. King's letter from the Birmingham jail.
I thank Senators Warnock, Tillis, Casey, Capito, Boozman, and Rosen for joining me.
Madam President, I ask unanimous consent that after I speak briefly, you will recognize, in this order, Senators Warnock, Tillis, Casey, then me, then Capito, then Boozman, then Rosen.
Mr. President, our former colleague, Doug Jones from Alabama, began this bipartisan tradition. It happened in his State, and it is an honor to carry it.
Today, we recommit to Dr. King's mission--equal rights for all--to ensuring that every voice is heard and to the dignity of work.
On Friday, we marked Workers Memorial Day, when we honor workers killed on the job over the past year and throughout our history. People don't talk enough about what Dr. King was doing when he was assassinated. He was killed in Memphis while fighting for sanitation workers, AFSCME Local 1633, some of the most exploited workers in our country.
He traveled there following the death of two sanitation workers on the job. Not only was it a segregated neighborhood in Memphis, but, of course, even the garbage truck was segregated. Two White workers worked in the cab, and two Black workers worked in the back of the truck. They were killed when the truck malfunctioned and crushed them.
Dr. King understood the deep connection between workers' rights and civil rights. Speaking to those workers, he said:
[W]henever you are engaged in work that serves humanity and
is for the building of
humanity, it has dignity and it has worth. . . . All labor
has dignity.
Until we have equal rights for all and dignity for all workers, our work here remains unfinished. We have a long road left to travel. It is up to us to push our country further along the road. That is the message to me in Dr. King's words in the letter we read today.
Just a quick preface of what this letter was about and then we will turn to Reverend Warnock. In April 1963, Dr. King was held in a Birmingham, AL, jail for the supposed crime of leading a series of peaceful protests and boycotts. The goal was to pressure the business community to end discrimination in their hiring for local jobs.
Some White ministers from Alabama had taken issue with the boycotts. They told him: Dr. King, slow down. We are supporting you. We are for voting rights, too, but slow down. Don't move too fast. Don't demand too much all at once.
Dr. King rejected that premise.
It is up to all of us--as citizens, as leaders, as members of our churches in our communities--to get to work to demand justice and equality now, not at some hazy, far-off point in the future that never seems to get here.
Dr. King made that point more eloquently and persuasively than any of us ever could. So I will turn to my colleague, the Reverend Senator Warnock.
Mr. President, I will continue.
I must make two honest confessions to you, my Christian and
Jewish brothers. First, I must confess that over the past few
years I have been gravely disappointed with the white
moderate.
I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the
Negro's great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is
not the White Citizen's Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but
the white moderate, who is more devoted to ``order'' than to
justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of
tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice;
who constantly says: ``I agree with you in the goal you seek,
but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action''; who
paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for
another man's freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of
time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a
``more convenient season.'' Shallow understanding from people
of good will is more frustrating than absolute
misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance
is much more bewildering than outright rejection.
I had hoped that the white moderate would understand that
law and order exist for the purpose of establishing justice
and that when they fail in this purpose they become the
dangerously structured dams that block the flow of social
progress.
I had hoped that the white moderate would understand that
the present tension in the South is a necessary phase of the
transition from an obnoxious negative peace, in which the
Negro passively accepted his unjust plight, to a substantive
and positive peace, in which all men will respect the dignity
and worth of human personality. Actually, we who engage in
nonviolent direct action are not the creators of tension.
We merely bring to the surface the hidden tension that is
already alive. We bring it out in the open, where it can
be seen and dealt with. Like a boil that can never be
cured so long as it is covered up but must be opened with
all its ugliness to the natural medicines of air and
light, injustice must be exposed, with all the tension its
exposure creates, to the light of human conscience and the
air of national opinion before it can be cured.
In your statement you assert that our actions, even though
peaceful, must be condemned because they precipitate
violence. But is this a logical assertion? Isn't this like
condemning a robbed man because his possession of money
precipitated the evil act of robbery? Isn't this like
condemning Socrates because his unswerving commitment to
truth and his philosophical inquiries precipitated the act by
the misguided populace in which they made him drink hemlock?
Isn't this like condemning Jesus because his unique God
consciousness and never ceasing devotion to God's will
precipitated the evil act of crucifixion? We must come to see
that, as the federal courts have consistently affirmed, it is
wrong to urge an individual to cease his efforts to gain his
basic constitutional rights because the quest may precipitate
violence. Society must protect the robbed and punish the
robber. I had also hoped that the white moderate would reject
the myth concerning time in relation to the struggle for
freedom. I have just received a letter from a white brother
in Texas. He writes: ``All Christians know that the colored
people will receive equal rights eventually, but it is
possible that you are in too great a religious hurry. It has
taken Christianity almost two thousand years to accomplish
what it has. The teachings of Christ take time to come to
earth.'' Such an attitude stems from a tragic misconception
of time, from the strangely irrational notion that there is
something in the very flow of time that will inevitably cure
all ills. Actually, time itself is neutral; it can be used
either destructively or constructively. More and more I feel
that the people of ill will have used time much more
effectively than have the people of good will. We will have
to repent in this generation not merely for the hateful words
and actions of the bad people but for the appalling silence
of the good people. Human progress never rolls in on wheels
of inevitability; it comes through the tireless efforts of
men willing to be coworkers with God, and without this hard
work, time itself becomes an ally of the forces of social
stagnation. We must use time creatively, in the knowledge
that the time is always ripe to do right. Now is the time to
make real the promise of democracy and transform our pending
national elegy into a creative psalm of brotherhood. Now is
the time to lift our national policy from the quicksand of
racial injustice to the solid rock of human dignity.
You speak of our activity in Birmingham as extreme. At
first I was rather disappointed that fellow clergymen would
see my nonviolent efforts as those of an extremist. I began
thinking about the fact that I stand in the middle of two
opposing forces in the Negro community. One is a force of
complacency, made up in part of Negroes who, as a result of
long years of oppression, are so drained of self respect and
a sense of ``somebodiness'' that they have adjusted to
segregation; and in part of a few middle-class Negroes who,
because of a degree of academic and economic security and
because in some ways they profit by segregation, have become
insensitive to the problems of the masses. The other force is
one of bitterness and hatred, and it comes perilously close
to advocating violence. It is expressed in the various black
nationalist groups that are springing up across the nation,
the largest and best known being Elijah Muhammad's Muslim
movement. Nourished by the Negro's frustration over the
continued existence of racial discrimination, this movement
is made up of people who have lost faith in America, who have
absolutely repudiated Christianity, and who have concluded
that the white man is an incorrigible ``devil.''
I have tried to stand between these two forces, saying that
we need emulate neither the ``do nothingism'' of the
complacent nor the hatred and despair of the black
nationalist. For there is the more excellent way of love and
nonviolent protest. I am grateful to God that, through the
influence of the Negro church, the way of nonviolence became
an integral part of our struggle. If this philosophy had not
emerged, by now many streets of the South would, I am
convinced, be flowing with blood. And I am further convinced
that if our white brothers dismiss as ``rabble rousers'' and
``outside agitators'' those of us who employ nonviolent
direct action, and if they refuse to support our nonviolent
efforts, millions of Negroes will, out of frustration and
despair, seek solace and security in black nationalist
ideologies--a development that would inevitably lead to a
frightening racial nightmare.
Thank you, Senator Rosen.
Thank you to my colleagues who joined us today to read these powerful words: Senators Warnock, Tillis, Casey, Capito, Boozman, and Rosen.
This is a diverse group on the floor today whose States reflect the vibrant
and wonderful diversity of our great Nation, from the Deep South to the Mountain West, to the Industrial Midwest. We represent different places. We may disagree on many things, but we love this country. We know we can do better for the people who make it work.
Dr. King and the civil rights leaders of his generation did more than just about anyone to push this country to live up to our founding ideals and to make the dream of America real for everyone. Protesting, working for change, organizing, demanding our country do better--those are some of the most patriotic things all of us can do. That is Dr. King's charge in this letter.
My favorite single line certainly in this letter and maybe in all of Dr. King's preachings and teachings and writings: ``Progress never rolls in on [the] wheels of inevitability.''
``Progress never rolls in on [the] wheels of inevitability.'' It rolls in because we make it so. That is our charge.
Think about that campaign Dr. King was waging when he was martyred in Memphis. Think about who he was talking to--a union, Sanitation Workers Local 1613, AFSCME. Think of the circumstances. This was a very segregated Memphis. He was in a segregated, White neighborhood. Even the sanitation trucks where these workers were working were segregated. The cab of the truck was two White workers; the back of the truck was doing the actual lifting and picking up garbage--two Black workers.
In February, before Dr. King first visited, the garbage truck--there was a torrential downpour in this White, segregated neighborhood. There was nowhere for these Black sanitation workers to go. They crawled in the back of the truck. It malfunctioned and crushed these two workers. That is why Dr. King was in Memphis the first time and the second time.
As he wove together worker rights and civil rights and labor rights, he told these workers:
What does it profit a man to be able to eat at an
integrated lunch counter if he doesn't earn enough money to
buy a hamburger and a cup of coffee?
Those workers were vital to their community. They worked hard to provide for their families. They were denied fair pay, denied political rights, denied basic safety on the job.
Now, the Presiding Officer today is Senator Cortez Masto from Nevada, who has joined in so many efforts on the Senate floor to fight for workers, to fight for the dignity of work, to fight for safety and civil rights and worker rights. It is not a coincidence that the workers who are so often the most exploited are low-income workers, especially Black workers.
Until all workers have the dignity they have earned, Dr. King's work will remain unfinished. It means paying all workers a living wage. It means giving them power over their schedules. It means providing good benefits and safety on the job. It means letting them, if they so choose, organize a union. It is about the dignity of work. All workers get a fair share of the wealth they create. When we empower workers, we bring us closer to the society Dr. King envisioned where all labor has dignity.