Before You Post That MLK Quote
Hey there, Meteor readers, I didn’t make a lot of resolutions for 2023. I’m about to have a child, and I hear they really derail any and all of your plans. But one thing that was on my goal list was to find a daily affirmation to carry throughout the year—and by George, I think I’ve done it. On Tuesday, the love of my life, Michelle Yeoh, told an entire orchestra, “I can beat you up, okay? And that’s serious,” when it tried to interrupt her length-appropriate acceptance speech for Best Actress at the Golden Globes. This is the energy I want to maintain for the rest of the year—whatever comes at me, whether it be a minor inconvenience or an entire Hollywood orchestra, I can beat it up. And that’s serious! In today’s newsletter, we revisit the words of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.—and not just the ones you already know. Instead, Meteor editor-at-large Rebecca Carroll takes a closer look at King’s writing, and how it moves her today. But before that, a touch of news. Channeling Michelle, Shannon Melero WHAT’S GOING ON“Compromising” on abortion: Virginia Republicans have introduced what they’re calling a “moderate” and “reasonable” abortion bill that would criminalize abortion after 15 weeks in that state. But as we used to say at my old job, the proof is in the paperwork; what’s being touted and what’s actually written in the bill are two entirely different things. Slate’s Mark Joseph Stern points out that, among many other glaring issues, this bill criminalizes abortion before viability can be determined—meaning if a patient discovers at 17 weeks that their fetus cannot survive outside the womb, they are legally obligated to carry that pregnancy to term unless it will literally kill them. And even the exception for the life of the pregnant person is written in such a way as to discourage doctors from performing life-saving procedures. Stern writes that while the bill would allow doctors to do an emergency abortion after 15 weeks, using their medical judgment they are, “subject to incarceration if prosecutors disagree with their assessment and a jury determines that the abortion was unnecessary.” This isn’t much more moderate than the Texas abortion ban that led to Amanda Zurawski nearly dying of sepsis because her doctors were legally unable to act quickly enough. Stern writes that many patients have been “forced to the brink of death” because there are so many medical issues that can “harm pregnant patients without guaranteeing their death.” And under H.B. 2278, doctors have no choice but to wait until death is imminent. What an interesting way to approach law making from the party that claims to value life the most. AND:
EXAMINING A LEGACYWhen Dr. King Talks to Me, This is What He SaysA reflection on the words you know and the ones you don’t. BY REBECCA CARROLL DR. KING ADDRESSING A CROWD IN ALABAMA. (IMAGE BY STEPHEN SOMERSTEIN VIA GETTY IMAGES) I grew up in New Hampshire, which was the last state in the country to observe Martin Luther King, Jr. Day as a holiday (kicking and screaming, at that; they held out until literally the year 2000, almost two decades after federal legislation making it a national holiday was passed). At home, though, my white adoptive parents told me the words and leadership of Martin Luther King, Jr. made them feel encouraged about adopting and raising a Black child. “We believed in his message about people of all races coming together,” my mom liked to say. To which I responded, on more occasions than I’d like to recount, that first of all, it was a dream. People of all races weren’t exactly unified when King made his “I Have a Dream” speech in 1963—the year Medgar Evers was murdered, the KKK killed four little Black girls at the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, and tens of thousands of folks marched on Washington for their basic civil rights. And second of all: He was killed because of that dream. My parents’ interpretation of King’s message felt willfully naive to me. But it is not uncommon for white liberals then or now to pride themselves on just knowing who he is while conveniently forgetting how radical his message was at the time of his assassination—particularly following his public denouncement of the Vietnam War in a speech given at the Riverside Church in Manhattan. Up to that point in 1967, most Northern liberals felt pretty OK about supporting King’s fight for civil rights on American soil. But when it came to people of all races in other parts of the world? Not so much. (King also committed the cardinal sin of pushing back against American military power, considered unpatriotic then and now.) The media went nuts. In a piece called “Dr. King’s Error,” The New York Times, a notable ally of King’s, called his speech “both wasteful and self-defeating.” DR. KING BEING RUSHED BY A MOB OF PROTESTORS WHO WERE FOR THE VIETNAM. (IMAGE BY JACK SHEAHAN VIA GETTY IMAGES) But his words, the famous and less-famous ones, continue to exist and reverberate in the world. It’s odd to miss people you’ve never met (much less public figures or historical icons) but when I reread some of King’s words, I miss him. I miss the extraordinary power and passion of his focus and his love for us in real time. I often wonder if he could have imagined how the things he said amid great struggle and duress would decades later be cut, spliced, removed from their context, and posted on Instagram. I wonder if he could guess that there would be a generation that knows him better for his quotes than for the fact that he helped get a law passed authorizing the federal government to treat me—and people of all races—equally. If we are going to keep lionizing his quotes, though, then MLK Day (now recognized nationally) is a good time to look at a few of them more closely and reconsider the ways they still hold meaning. Here are a few that resonate with me:
The strident clamor of the bad people still be stridently clamoring. (Two words for you: January 6th.) And as we face some of the most vicious attacks on our rights, the “appalling silence of the good people” continues to damage and divide us as a nation. The U.S. Supreme Court eliminated the constitutional right to abortion. There were over 600 mass shootings documented in 2022. Voter suppression is still rampant. And while I am heartened by those who do speak out and protest, most people, even those who consider themselves fair-minded, choose to remain silent. That astonishes me.
Still holds. I don’t think even the most well-intentioned white people understand that America’s default settings—the standards of all that we know and have codified into the canons of literature, beauty, education, moral codes, and societal behavior—is a made-up truth devised to make non-white people, specifically Black people, feel less than across the board.
In other words, your acts of oppression are oppressing us both.
Will it, though? I wrestle with this line of Dr. King’s. I have committed myself to the struggle throughout my entire life and career—and it doesn’t always feel noble. A lot of times, it just feels exhausting. King was not wrong about the struggle making you a better person, but being a better person doesn’t automatically mean the world changes. That’s the throughline—for all of King’s grace, fortitude, and elegant militance, he placed his faith in a universal humanity that did not exist then and does not exist now. But I suspect King knew that as well. If America could have its own version of humanity, then why couldn’t he have one, too? One that doesn’t demolish the other version, but rather helps to rehabilitate it? As his daughter Bernice King has reminded us in her own tireless efforts at carrying on King’s legacy: “My father literally fought his entire life to ensure the inclusion of all people because he understood that we were intertwined and connected together in humanity.” I guess that’s ultimately what keeps me in the struggle: a version of humanity that is fueled by compassion and sustained by the truth of our existence. And I will chase down that version until it no longer needs to be imagined. As King himself said, “We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.” JOIN US!It’s been six months since the Supreme Court of the United States overturned Roe v. Wade. We are living through a once-in-a-generation moment around reproductive freedom. So where do we go next in 2023, particularly when we know that it will be birthing people of color who will experience the most harm in this moment? On Wednesday, January 18th–just ahead of what would have been the 50th anniversary of Roe v. Wade—The Meteor will host Roe At 50: Abortion Access From Now On. This virtual briefing will feature a conversation with Renee Bracey Sherman, founder & executive director of We Testify and co-author of the forthcoming book, Countering Abortionsplaining; and Brittany Packnett Cunningham, award-winning activist and the host of UNDISTRACTED; moderated by Regina Mahone, senior editor at The Nation and co-author of Countering Abortionsplaining. To learn more and register for this FREE virtual event, click the button below. FOLLOW THE METEOR Thank you for reading The Meteor! Got this from a friend? Sign up for your own copy, sent Tuesdays and Thursdays.
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