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A STAFF MLK JR. DAY REFLECTION

My First MLK Jr. Day

 

I don't know how long it takes for a celebration to become just another day off. A day to hold a  January sale on sheets. It inevitably happens.

We had asked for it, we talked about it, we shouted, we marched, we begged, we demanded, and finally, we knew it had to happen: the first Martin Luther King Jr. Day. The first Federal Holiday ever dedicated to the life of a Black man. After so many times of taking the train to Washington D.C., to protest, I was finally taking the train to celebrate the inevitability.

The passage of time has blurred the details of the train ride to D.C., the drive to the concert, the setlist. I don’t remember where the building-high graffiti was of “if black is beautiful, I  s*** a beaut this morning” along the Northeast corridor.

But I can still close my eyes and return to the packed Capital Centre. The unflinching power of Gil Scott-Heron’s revolutionary words, the feeling as Stevie Wonder brings the King family out on the stage, lighters held high in the air like thousands of birthday candles, people crying and swaying and making harmonies, even the ones who could not hold a note, the moment when a song of demand and protest transformed into a song of joy and triumph. That memory is sharp and clear and unblurred. The signing of the bill was 3 years in the future, but somehow we all knew it was to be. This was not the fancy televised Kennedy Center show, this was the peoples’ party. It was the moment we signed the bill in our hearts.

How long does it take for a hard-fought win to become just another given in the world? I know it will happen, but just not yet, America. Not just yet.

Kaleda Davis
Core Member Convergences Theater Collective
AM, Public Theater