In her column yesterday reflecting on the meaning of celebrating Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday, Tears for a King, Michelle Dianne asked some pointed questions.
Let's define celebrate: to observe or commemorate, typically but not necessarily in a public way, an event, drawing attention to remind others what matters.
The quintessential example is likely "personal" non-holiday birthdays, which rarely (if ever) focus on the woman who gave birth, but instead serve as a reason to express affection, or at least acceptance, without eliciting suspicion of an agenda: we can say, or hear, "Happy Birthday" without looking for motivation beyond "You're OK in my reckoning," even between near strangers. It's a low-cost, low-risk social exchange.
Celebration takes on another dimension altogether when we celebrate an official holiday - when we observe the birthday of a political or religious figure that choice conveys our recognition of their enduring impact - the significance of their contributions to many lives.
In that sense King's holiday is celebration-worthy and, though I might sooner have chosen the anniversary of an event, I accept that his accomplishment went well beyond any one appearance or speech; for all he brought to the consciousness of both oppressed people and those who chose to look the other way, I applaud the Powers That Be (or, that "were" in this case) for ensuring we officially, collectively reflect on and commemorate the impact and importance of his philosophy, commitment, and courage.
It is right, in other words, that children in the United States in particular -- children who might otherwise never so much as hear King's name -- have reason in every school in the nation to learn how awful and un-equal things really were despite the lofty language in our Constitution and the so-called integration of our Armed Forces. History doesn't repeat itself, but people who don't know history may well repeat some mistakes rather than learn from them.
So while her closing question implying we may be making a mistake -- implying the need to think more about the meaning of the day -- was a good one, with much yet unaccomplished, with miles to go and promises of our founding fathers still un-met this cold, snowy January, I submit it is more important to ask routinely either, "How can/does our celebration inspire continuation of the progress toward true equality?" or, "What would Martin do?"
Thomas Hayes is an entrepreneur, former Democratic Campaign Manager, journalist, and photographer who contributes regularly to a host of web sites on topics ranging from economics and politics to culture and community.
"We’re celebrating? From the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire to the molehills of Mississippi, freedom still fails to ring for millions of Americans and we’re celebrating?"
Michelle Dianne
17 January 2011
"We’re celebrating? From the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire to the molehills of Mississippi, freedom still fails to ring for millions of Americans and we’re celebrating?"Let's define celebrate: to observe or commemorate, typically but not necessarily in a public way, an event, drawing attention to remind others what matters.
The quintessential example is likely "personal" non-holiday birthdays, which rarely (if ever) focus on the woman who gave birth, but instead serve as a reason to express affection, or at least acceptance, without eliciting suspicion of an agenda: we can say, or hear, "Happy Birthday" without looking for motivation beyond "You're OK in my reckoning," even between near strangers. It's a low-cost, low-risk social exchange.
Celebration takes on another dimension altogether when we celebrate an official holiday - when we observe the birthday of a political or religious figure that choice conveys our recognition of their enduring impact - the significance of their contributions to many lives.
In that sense King's holiday is celebration-worthy and, though I might sooner have chosen the anniversary of an event, I accept that his accomplishment went well beyond any one appearance or speech; for all he brought to the consciousness of both oppressed people and those who chose to look the other way, I applaud the Powers That Be (or, that "were" in this case) for ensuring we officially, collectively reflect on and commemorate the impact and importance of his philosophy, commitment, and courage.
It is right, in other words, that children in the United States in particular -- children who might otherwise never so much as hear King's name -- have reason in every school in the nation to learn how awful and un-equal things really were despite the lofty language in our Constitution and the so-called integration of our Armed Forces. History doesn't repeat itself, but people who don't know history may well repeat some mistakes rather than learn from them.
I'm fervently in favor of celebrating King's life and the changes his actions stimulated; marking his birthday spreads the awareness, it keeps us from glossing over the past, and conveys that he's as relevant to our story as the officially-most-revered of our Presidents. What we celebrate is that the courage and certainty of King's actions moved us farther, faster in a critical direction than we'd have made it without him. King's holiday is an affirmation of our "all men are created equal" aspiration, and the power of people to grow and improve."The other day R. Lee Gordon asked the African American community on Facebook what it will take to put the “B” back in *Lack Unity; the brother got only two responses. Think about that and answer me this: What are we celebrating?"
Michelle Dianne
17 January 2011
So while her closing question implying we may be making a mistake -- implying the need to think more about the meaning of the day -- was a good one, with much yet unaccomplished, with miles to go and promises of our founding fathers still un-met this cold, snowy January, I submit it is more important to ask routinely either, "How can/does our celebration inspire continuation of the progress toward true equality?" or, "What would Martin do?"
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Robert Frost
Thomas Hayes is an entrepreneur, former Democratic Campaign Manager, journalist, and photographer who contributes regularly to a host of web sites on topics ranging from economics and politics to culture and community.
