For the Weary: A Message from the Mountaintop, 1968
By Eric K. Ward
“Only when it is dark enough can you see the stars.”
― Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., “I’ve Been to the Mountaintop”
I understand the rage. Today is the fifth anniversary of the massacre in Charleston, South Carolina. White nationalist Dylann Roof gunned down nine Black lives during a bible study session he had been welcomed to attend; he later wrote, “I would like to make it crystal clear, I do not regret what I did. I have not shed a tear for the innocent people I killed.”
I shed that tear now, for those congregants and for every Black death that’s resulted from the systemic perpetuation of the belief that Black lives don’t matter. I shed that tear every time a new Black life is added to the book of names we must say: Rayshard Brooks. Na’kia Crawford. Malcolm Harsch and Robert Fuller.
When I have to find a place for the rage and the grief, I call another name and look to the place he spoke to and from: “I’ve Been to the Mountaintop,” the last speech given by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. We all know that on April 4, 1968, Dr. King was murdered outside his Memphis motel room, assassinated by a white nationalist. It is an important day for us to remember and it should never be forgotten. But neither should we dishonor, through forgetting, the day before.
“If… the Almighty said to me, ‘Martin Luther King, which age would you like to live in?’…Strangely enough, I would turn to the Almighty and say, ‘If you allow me to live just a few years in the second half of the twentieth century, I will be happy.’”
On April 3, 1968, Dr. King is still very much with us. He is speaking to an overflowing room. The audience can barely sit still. They can barely listen without shouting in joy. Why? Because Dr. King is taking us with him to the mountain. As we listen to him speak, we realize, suddenly, that we are already climbing. We are already struggling to reach the top. The climb feels so long, it is muddy, and the rocks make us weary.
We know that weary, don’t we? I don’t have to tell you about weary. The aches and tears of weary in a way that our country will never comprehend, even in its future greatest days. The weary that comes in the form of racist brutality: bodies broken from bullets, gas, slurs, and the rope around the limb of the tree. The weary that comes from hunger, neglectful healthcare, stolen dreams. The weary that comes from disrespect and invisibility.
But go back with me to that night in Memphis. We are on that mountainside. And you know what? Dr. King is right here with us. We know he is as weary as we are. He tells us he is not sure he will be able to make the climb with us, but that it doesn’t matter; he isn’t worried about anything. He knows he is going to be killed — you can hear it in the shaking but determined quake of his voice. As sure as he knows that, he knows another truth as well. Looking at all of us climbing, struggling to hang on, he tells us, “I’ve been to the mountaintop and I’ve seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know that we, as a people, will get to the Promised Land.”
The Promised Land can feel far from view when white nationalists like John Derbyshire feel entitled to plunder Dr. King’s best known speech. In his recent post on VDARE, Derbyshire closes “I Have A Dream — That This Is The Darkness Before The Race-Realist Dawn,” with a repeat of Dylann Roof’s non-repentance: “With apologies — well, actually, with no apologies — to Dr. Martin Luther King.”
Leading in easy times is, well, easy. But these times are not them. In truth: we all know what we are witnessing right now. We just don’t want to say it out loud. We are witnessing the end of one age and the beginning of another. These are times of great beauty but also times of great horror. While the new world is unfolding, we still walk amidst an old world that has not yet realized that the binary is no longer needed.
“Another reason I’m happy to live in this period is that we have been forced to a point where we are going to have to grapple with the problems that men have been trying to grapple with through history, but the demands didn’t force them to do it.”
It is a heavy lift to walk between two worlds. I feel the pressure on my shoulders and the nudge of pain in my middle back. I feel it in the tear that falls slowly from the corner of my eye as I write this. I think you may feel it too. How does it affect our climb towards justice, opportunity, and true democracy in America? How do we lead in such a moment? How do we not only walk our talk, but help others to do so as well?
We lead in this moment by understanding that we, too, can see the Promised Land. We are no longer climbing for ourselves. Here, today, we climb for our ancestors and for the generations to come. They are worthy of our sacrifices at this moment. So, we climb, no longer out of fear — but because we choose abundance over scarcity, inclusion over violence, and love over death. We climb knowing that we don’t get into the Promised Land unless we bring everyone with us across that mountaintop.
“In the human rights revolution, if something isn’t done and done in a hurry to bring the colored peoples of the world out of their long years of poverty, their long years of hurt and neglect, the whole world is doomed.”
So here we stand, at the mountaintop: Black leaders, barely able to see what’s ahead because we have to keep looking back, waiting for all of you to join us — not just for a night of protest, but for the long work of the climb. Can you hear us? We are calling you to climb just a little bit more. You see, it’s your freedom too, that we’ve been climbing for. It’s been paid for with 500 years of indigenous and African blood.
Can you hear us? There is nothing to fear and it’s time for you to move. No more rehearsals. It’s the actual event. I’m determined that we get over the mountain top this time — how about you?
“Let us rise up tonight with a greater readiness. Let us stand with a greater determination. And let us move on in these powerful days, these days of challenge, to make America what it ought to be. We have an opportunity to make America a better nation.”
Eric K. Ward is a Senior Fellow with Race Forward and Southern Poverty Law Center and Executive Director of Western States Center. Listen to Dr. King’s speech, “I’ve Been to the Mountaintop,” the source for all quoted content.
