“If I Had a Dream”: The Al Sharpton edit

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As millions remember and celebrate Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s historic march and iconic speech, we can’t help but wonder what a lesser man might have done with the moment. Based on Al Sharpton’s history of race-baiting and race profiteering, we have re-edited Dr. King’s speech. Just picture the Reverend Al sitting at his desk with his editing pen. Here, we imagine, are the changes he might suggest:

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If I Had a Dream

by Al Sharpton

I am happy to join with youproud you have joined me today in what will go down in history as the my greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nationthe media.

Five score years agoAwhile ago, a great white American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice, but none more than me and the lovely Tawana Brawley. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their our captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free to make false accusations of rape as a ploy for money. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination, often created at my provocation. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity, much of which I have gotten for myself by turning race into a business. And you can too by working (or not) from home! One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition, since drama is my calling card.

In a sense we have come to our nation’s capital to cash a check, a check I will personally take a percentage of as the agent for all racial matters in this nation. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir, and to which I would name myself as Collector. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned, and I need that cash now. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked “insufficient funds.” Now what am I supposed to do with that?! But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt, though I will say it as frequently as I can into a microphone. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice and personal profit.

We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy to the media. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice with a photo-op. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood on talk shows. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God’s children, who might be able to get a settlement out of someone.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro’s legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning of my career as a professional race-baiter. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. And trust me, I will make this solemn fight into nothing but a new, profitable business. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights, and I get public credit for it on the news. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. (Lying and media manipulation excepted). Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. Let us simply serve that cup of bitterness and hatred to future generations.

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline, coupled with false claims and profiteering. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence, but it is fine to move others to violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force, with a good dose of heavy-handed emotional blackmail. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone. OK, I’m kidding, I’m kidding. We all know division is the real path to unity. Just trust me on that one.

As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. ahead. We cannot turn back, but we sure can look backward and constantly reference historic crimes long since gone. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, “When will you be satisfied?” We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality, much like the brutality Trayvon Martin unleashed on George Zimmerman. But I’m getting distracted by facts now. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro’s basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one, unless that provides for a great photo on Huffington Post. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating “For Whites Only,” though I am more than happy to strip others of their selfhood and dignity for my own gain. 


We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream of cold cash money.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. But trust me, trials aren’t actually necessary – we can just lob complaints and get a settlement (can I get an “Amen” for Paula Deen?) Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.

Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream, of acquiring stuff and still wanting more.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its greed – I mean creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal.”

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood, unless I need to disrupt that progress to make money.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character witnesses.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together as an opportunity to cash in.

This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day to turn the tables and engage in warped reverse racism.

This will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing with a new meaning, “My country, ’tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim’s pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring.” By the way, I’d like a new ring – a bigger one, diamond.


And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!

Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!
But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!
Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, “Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!” Now, how can I charge money for what’s free? I’ll get to that in time. Just you watch.

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