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NOT About Martin Luther King, Jr.
I leave for India tomorrow--in about 14 hours, to be exact. Here's an article written by my friend, Ann Manheimer, author of MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR.: DREAMING OF EQUALITY (Lerner Publishing, 2004).
Deborah
NOT About Martin Luther King, Jr.
by Ann Manheimer
Despite appearances, this essay is not about Martin Luther King, Jr. But it is that time of year when we pay attention to his legacy, and since I wrote a book about him, I pay perhaps more attention than most people.
However, before I start not-writing about Dr. King, I need to make two admissions. The first has to do with my early image of him as an uninspired leader of a moderate movement. Of course, I favored civil rights. But in the late 60s and early 70s, Dr. King seemed – in that tired, old word —“irrelevant.” He stood for understanding in an era of uncompromising allegiance, for non-violence in an era of violent change. I did not then believe his ways were ways for the future.
My second admission, again about my views back then, has to do with heroes. I no longer believed in them. All of mine had failings – my parents were not perfect; John F. Kennedy was not a particularly great president; Lincoln fought the Civil War more because of economics than morality. I concluded that my former heroes were not worthy of that status, and that heroes were tooth fairies in human form.
Fast forward to a quarter century later. Asked to write a book for children about Martin Luther King, Jr., I agreed. It seemed mildly interesting, and besides, I had a friend who was a King scholar and could help me. At worst, I’d be able to put the famous man in the context of the civil rights era and keep him there.
Then I began to learn about him. I learned that he did not want to be a national leader. I learned about his extraordinary inner struggles, wrestling with decisions and regrets. I learned about the painful sacrifices he made, the harsh criticisms he had to bear, the daily threats against his physical safety and that of his family, the constant harassment by his own government. I came to admire his courage. But still, I questioned his message. It seemed simplistic and placating – could love and non-violence save the world?
Then I read his writings and speeches, the ones they don’t usually play on MLK Day. He wrote about economic justice, individualism, human nature, the evils of violence. He talked about the anemia of love without power, and the abuse of power without love. He wrote about the need for United States to “undergo a radical revolution of values,” to transform “…from a ‘thing-oriented’ society to a ‘person-oriented’ society.” He warned: “When machines and computers, profit motives and property rights are considered more important than people, the giant triplets of racism, materialism, and militarism are incapable of being conquered.” He was one of the first national leaders to take a stand against the war in Viet Nam. Long before modern politicians made the word a slogan, Martin Luther King, Jr. referred to “the one thing that keeps the fire of revolutions burning: the ever-present flame of hope.”
I learned about his failings, too – he made many mistakes, personal and public. And I learned he was not alone in doing great things despite great hardship. As his colleague Ella Baker said, Martin did not make the civil rights movement, it made him. There are staggering numbers of people who have sacrificed for a better world without the recognition he has received. Given all that, Martin Luther King, Jr. could have been for me just another example of a failed hero – a famous but flawed man getting more credit than his due.
But something changed inside me when I read his writings and wrote the book about him. I came to realize something about messages, and courage, and heroes. Heroes, I belatedly realized are not perfect – they are flawed people who go forward, despite. People like Martin Luther King, Jr., like JFK and Abraham Lincoln, like my mother and father. People who understand the need for hope and the importance of going on.
And so, you see, this essay is not about Martin Luther King, Jr. It’s not even about my transformation into a believer in heroes. It’s about how the power of reading, and of synthesizing that reading into writing, changes us. Ultimately, it’s about the power of words to transform our lives.
Wishing us all good words in the new year.
Ann Manheimer
Author, children's fiction and non-fiction
Deborah
NOT About Martin Luther King, Jr.
by Ann Manheimer
Despite appearances, this essay is not about Martin Luther King, Jr. But it is that time of year when we pay attention to his legacy, and since I wrote a book about him, I pay perhaps more attention than most people.
However, before I start not-writing about Dr. King, I need to make two admissions. The first has to do with my early image of him as an uninspired leader of a moderate movement. Of course, I favored civil rights. But in the late 60s and early 70s, Dr. King seemed – in that tired, old word —“irrelevant.” He stood for understanding in an era of uncompromising allegiance, for non-violence in an era of violent change. I did not then believe his ways were ways for the future.
My second admission, again about my views back then, has to do with heroes. I no longer believed in them. All of mine had failings – my parents were not perfect; John F. Kennedy was not a particularly great president; Lincoln fought the Civil War more because of economics than morality. I concluded that my former heroes were not worthy of that status, and that heroes were tooth fairies in human form.
Fast forward to a quarter century later. Asked to write a book for children about Martin Luther King, Jr., I agreed. It seemed mildly interesting, and besides, I had a friend who was a King scholar and could help me. At worst, I’d be able to put the famous man in the context of the civil rights era and keep him there.
Then I began to learn about him. I learned that he did not want to be a national leader. I learned about his extraordinary inner struggles, wrestling with decisions and regrets. I learned about the painful sacrifices he made, the harsh criticisms he had to bear, the daily threats against his physical safety and that of his family, the constant harassment by his own government. I came to admire his courage. But still, I questioned his message. It seemed simplistic and placating – could love and non-violence save the world?
Then I read his writings and speeches, the ones they don’t usually play on MLK Day. He wrote about economic justice, individualism, human nature, the evils of violence. He talked about the anemia of love without power, and the abuse of power without love. He wrote about the need for United States to “undergo a radical revolution of values,” to transform “…from a ‘thing-oriented’ society to a ‘person-oriented’ society.” He warned: “When machines and computers, profit motives and property rights are considered more important than people, the giant triplets of racism, materialism, and militarism are incapable of being conquered.” He was one of the first national leaders to take a stand against the war in Viet Nam. Long before modern politicians made the word a slogan, Martin Luther King, Jr. referred to “the one thing that keeps the fire of revolutions burning: the ever-present flame of hope.”
I learned about his failings, too – he made many mistakes, personal and public. And I learned he was not alone in doing great things despite great hardship. As his colleague Ella Baker said, Martin did not make the civil rights movement, it made him. There are staggering numbers of people who have sacrificed for a better world without the recognition he has received. Given all that, Martin Luther King, Jr. could have been for me just another example of a failed hero – a famous but flawed man getting more credit than his due.
But something changed inside me when I read his writings and wrote the book about him. I came to realize something about messages, and courage, and heroes. Heroes, I belatedly realized are not perfect – they are flawed people who go forward, despite. People like Martin Luther King, Jr., like JFK and Abraham Lincoln, like my mother and father. People who understand the need for hope and the importance of going on.
And so, you see, this essay is not about Martin Luther King, Jr. It’s not even about my transformation into a believer in heroes. It’s about how the power of reading, and of synthesizing that reading into writing, changes us. Ultimately, it’s about the power of words to transform our lives.
Wishing us all good words in the new year.
Ann Manheimer
Author, children's fiction and non-fiction
MLK, Jr.