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From My Heart to Dr. Martin King Jr
 It’s time for me to throw out my heart that has beaten problems through thick and thin and evil and cruel figures of war and climbing mountains and stepping downhill into the pits of prisons and isolation in a foreign spot. Yet, my intention was never to roll around and weep and scream nor think about giving up even though this world has become so twisted by racism and abuse and religious powers and fussing with God, especially when He chose to take from us such a set of brilliant, courageous and blessed men - President John Kennedy, his brother Robert, and then the brilliant, one of a kind, Dr. Martin Luther King. Jr. who, thanks be to God, the night before had shouted out his pain - with the famous I Have a Dream speech with those around him.
Dr. King was not an easy take for acid whites, but a brilliant choice to knock on and open the doors of disgust and heaven at the same time, to communicate how blacks could be, should be and were as powerful and probably more religious and creative and beautiful than whites. Sadly, whites thought only whites were all about Jesus and making money that allowed them to be the power mongers with billions of dollars, allowing them to be how they wanted to be regardless of what they did to entertain themselves. Evil often turned men and women into monsters of wealth. Still do when in power. Yes, there have been precious exceptions in our leaderships: President Jimmy Carter, who still survives with his gentle, Christian faith, and there are way too few brilliant leaders in the manner of President Barack Obama, who, I pray, God will pull back into the arena of Presidents of this country. Without a doubt, Obama seemed in his time to have exploded with energy and curiosity and fairness. And all men were created equal. Women too. Of course, we all know somehow there are very few in the footsteps of Abraham Lincoln, and leaders who had black blood in their veins from family members. What counts is the soul, the prayer, the honesty, the energy to make a difference so all people have equal privileges.
And I can remember watching those confused and distraught when their big hope, the modern savior Dr. King came to visit to resolve issues in Memphis, and so quickly was killed by some skinny white dump who had no powers, no sufficient education, no reason, no character - but people in the higher ups gave him the chance to turn on the lights of power through a bullet on a balcony before the sun began to set.
I bow before the thought of Reverend King, who must be walking hand in hand with Jesus Christ, who also was a tragic victim of power and glory while holding on the hands of the Great God, His Father. I have the right to throw this out. I’ve lived through wars and assassinations and the greedy trying to take power in their hands when anyone didn’t agree. All of it, to me, kind of representative of some state that tries to hide all the Blacks and “colored” people who do the work and live in those hills and dales, while the wealthy white mongrels who flash their green dollars and pinch the butts and embrace sharp women who have the powers in their congress or state legislatures. They flirt with them but kick them in the corner when it’s time to be somebody - and the woman, or the African American man or woman, who have more knowledge than most of the people sitting in those fancy padded seats in various congresses - even on the hill in front of the famous statue of Abraham Lincoln sitting in his giant chair. And now Martin Luther King is standing tall and strong for all to see with his arms crossed - which finally became a trophy and honor so the public knows how to respect the pain and the glories that should be lifted up to the Heavens.
But they hold power in their hearts until there is some hope for them, be man or woman, black or yellow or Indian or white or yellow and this land is their land as much as it is for anyone. You don’t have to have a fancy suit and insulting necktie and big rings or fancy watches like so many do, thinking that’s what impresses the un-impressed. But then there was an angel, a heavenly angel with personality who tried to go where He had to go and do what he had to do just to be heard. And He knew exactly the task and the horror and the pain and the danger of every single word He said but had no fear about saying it because he knew God, surely one on one. `
We who could feel Martin Luther King’s spirit as if it were a giant cloud not necessarily protected, but embracing all the pain and horrors that had developed in this so called Nation of the Free, when racism became the dirty rag of life, and somehow, people got away with it, the ones who think white is right, and yet the world is way more filled with Africans, Muslims, Indians, indigenous people, all kinds of Indians, Chinese, South Americans, who so far outnumber people with white skin. Those who think because they have that white skin, it gives them privileges which are self-made and certainly not coming out of the mouths of people who want abuse, power and to own everything for themselves.
How can a man see his colored friend or enemy and yet be a man no matter what the situation? Travel through Africa and one is fascinated by the multiple types of skins that have colors that shine and delight and are beautiful and blessed, somehow, some way, by God, not just because of their suffering, but have you ever been into an African American church? There is so much love and hope and blossoms and voices that you don’t find elsewhere, even where choirs are so good, beautifying tunes of old and tradition, but still formal and stiff. Whereas in the African American churches, it’s from the soul - their songs just begin and spit out the evil and twist and praise the voices - good or bad- because that is what God wants to hear, I think. The impromptu, on the spot, soul spreading, love kicking, sharp hat spirit that exalts itself every Sunday usually for a long period of time is faith In the United States - vis a vis Memphis.
Consider Al Green who tears down the souls of the wicked with a song or a shout, and he preaches on Sundays till the day twists and shouts to bring God’s heart and soul into the church home that allows one to know Him, and love Him even more, just from the attention, the arising of the Spirit that twists and shouts. And here I am a white person who has more colors on my skin (caused to much sun in my youth, says the doctor) and that has always been a declaration from me that I’ve got a scattering of skin colors. It’s like going to Africa and seeing all the various colors of the Africans - some almost white some deep dark black - but they all have the amazing souls and spirits that mix anywhere anytime when needed.
Martin Luther King visited Kwame Nkrumah, one of the most exciting gentlemen I’ve ever met, who was the first President of Ghana and the first ordained leader in modern Africa. He graduated from the University of Pennsylvania (yes, in the USA) and had a craving for Hershey bars, which I sent to him now and then after we had the tremendous private meeting in between events when he was entertaining the Russian ambassador Mikhail Gorbachev - last leader of the Soviet Union - who received the full treatment on his arrival.
The Ghanaian chiefs of all levels waited under special tents to meet this VIP from the Russian borders. Russia had no hold on any country in Africa in those days but was creeping across the seas to the idea of getting involved in Africa. This, however, was the time when the European controls were being un-leashed as the Europeans turned back to their own countries, leaving leaders, many of whom had been trained by their foreign leadership for such a long time. Ghana was first to celebrate its own true African president. Ghana birthed him and he managed one of the most fascinating countries in those beginning days. I also met there a representative who was journalist for a top British newspaper and the New York Times - what do they call them - The tales of so much of the transition in other African natives were awful - white people who had lived for decades in so many African nations were slaughtered and forced to drop everything and flee back to their birth places.
It was smack in my innocent face when the great March on Washington, embodied in the Rev. Dr Martin Luther King Jr’s dream that his four little children would one day live in a nation where the 60th anniversary fell on a Monday - 1963 - commemorating the civil rights movement, defined in our national mythology as a colorblind demand for neutrality and fairness in the face of discrimination. It was officially known as the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom.
It was a demand for attention all of which seemed to or needed to wake up for a social democracy of equals grounded in the long Black American struggle to make sure they were as much a part of the Declaration of Independence as you and me. And the Civil Rights movement marched on and slowly but surely all people began to have a word, a vote, a say so in what was happening or going to happen in the United States of America. And Dr. King, like Abraham Lincoln, stands firm along the Potomac River to keep eyes on progress, love, and birthing freedom all over the United States and the world. May God keep our souls fresh and strong as we arrive at the beginning of whatever God has planned for all of us who care about each other no matter what color our skin.
~ Rev
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audrey@audreytaylorgonzalez.com
www.audreytaylorgonzalez.com
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