one of Americas greatest heroes.
a hero not just because of the words he said or the achievements he accomplished,
but how he did it.
he didn’t take anyone hostage, he didn’t gather dudes with rifles to occupy federal land, and he didn’t kill anyone in the name of any cause.
in fact he didn’t threaten anyone with violence. ever.
just the opposite: he spoke from a place of love.
love was his secret weapon, but it wasn’t a weapon at all, it was an adhesive.
love is what unified his message, his dream, and his goal with the hearts of others.
when he was jailed, he didn’t fight, when he was punched, he didn’t punch back, when others around him were struck, he didn’t strike back.
it was the gutsiest, most punk rock move he could teach: take it.
love them for they know not what they they’re doing.
forgive them because they’re actually helping move this thing along.
it’s painful for me to see elements of this country have such a hard time accepting our first black president, because it shows me how much modern racism exists.
shrouded simply in politics, but it’s straight up ignorance and fear.
but dr. king’s ideals hold true just as much now as it did then: take it.
absorb it with love.
unite with peace.
live the example of where we want to go.
be punk rock
by being the opposite of the ignorant.
so learn.
speak so that others get it.
and come from a place of kindness.
we might not ever achieve a smidge of what mlk did individually, but if we simply walk along that path
together, we’ll get there,
I was sitting in a college bar in Baton Rouge when I heard the news that Martin Luther King had been murdered. The stupid frat boys started cheering. There was a black bar maid working at the bar cleaning tables, picking up beer bottles and drink glasses. she heard the news. and cheering. She almost collapsed but gathered strength and continued.
I was overwhelmed by the ignominy of it all. I wanted to go up to the maid and tell her how sorry I was and that the animals at the bar were fueled by alcohol and gross ignorance and they did not understand the gravity of what happened. but i didn’t do it. i regret that to this day. I was 18 at the time (back then you could drink at age 18 in Louisiana ) and I was highly controlled by peer group pressure and a natural shyness. I didn’t know how to approach women that i didn’t already know.
So there it was, in all its ugliness, hurt, and shame. Not a pleasant feeling for a semi privileged white kid. As i grew older, there was more ugliness to learn about. things that I never really considered before. Sometimes life sucks. Like the novelist Larry McMurtry has written, “Life is not for Sissies”.. – Abner