Michael Eric Dyson, April 4, 1968 and The Black Masses
The Michael Eric Dyson Reader introduced me to Michael Eric Dyson. The book, an essay collection, discusses gender, race, sexuality, the church, and hip-hop. Sixteen-year-old Calyssa voraciously consumed this book. Dyson’s viewpoints and analyses, coupled with his lyricism in written form, became my blueprint for intellectualism.
The Michael Eric Dyson Reader cultivated my love for the written word. I saw how the careful selection of a word could result in the expression of a range of thought and emotion. Dyson’s ability to encapsulate the pain, joy, and complexities of the Black American experience, makes his books truly exceptional. He never attempts to define the Black experience, only to shed a light upon it in an effort to uplift the cause. I love this aspect of his writing: how he always aims to uplift all Black people, particularly the masses.
On April 12, 2008, I met my intellectual idol. He was promoting his new book, April 4, 1968: Martin Luther King, Jr’s Death and How it Changed America, at the Shrine of the Black Madonna near Morehouse and Spelman in Atlanta.
The Shrine of the Black Madonna would not take on any particular significance until I moved to Detroit years later. I was invited by an acquaintance to attend the original congregation of the Shrine of the Black Madonna in Detroit. Founded by Albert Cleage, the Shrine of the Black Madonna touts Pan-African Orthodox Christian principles, and is a political and cultural epicenter. The Atlanta congregation of the Shrine was established in the seventies. That day, I heard Dyson speak, had my book signed, and took a picture with him. To this day, I cherish my autographed copy of April 4, 1968.
Today is the fifty-sixth anniversary of Martin Luther King Jr.’s tragic death, and I have been reflecting on the significance of that day. The back cover copy of April 4, 1968, reads:
“No matter who killed him - a bigoted gunman, conspiring gangsters, or renegade government forces - Martin Luther King Jr.’s life was an anxious and dramatic march to the grave. Of course, all humans are born to die. But King knew that in all likelihood he would go earlier and more violently than most. He exhausted himself uplifting his country and race, but hateful forces hounded him to his last breath. King’s ultimate sacrifice made America a better country. His dream has been richly explored, and exploited. His birthday is celebrated as a national holiday. But his challenge to America has frozen beneath an avalanche of amnesia. King’s date of death shivers in frosty abandonment. It is clearly easier to salute a hero than face a martyr.”
Black martyrdom and Black sacrifice. Historically, why does this seem necessary for achieving equality? Upon reflection I wonder: how much have things truly changed? In death, we deify King; and yet, he was often reviled during his lifetime. It was his death, his fatal pain, that resulted in change. And somehow, we still have so much road to traverse on the path to justice.
In my opinion, King was killed because he spoke up, relentlessly. He dared to fight for the equality of all people, specifically Black people. And particularly, the Black masses.
In The Michael Eric Dyson Reader, Dyson acknowledges that:
“Americans have rarely been able to sustain debate about pressing social problems over long periods of time. Even less have we been able to conceive underlying structural features that bind complex social issues together. Such conceptualization of the intricate interrelationship of social problems would facilitate the development of broadly formed coalitions that address a range of social concern. As things stand, problems like poverty, racism, and sexism go in and out of style.”
What are we doing to break this toxic cycle? As the desire for equality oscillates between being in style and out of style, what have we done to ensure that the desire for equality remains? If you read King’s speeches and listen to his friends talk about him, you will learn that King was resolute. He was unwavering in his quest for justice, and not just in the south, but across the country.
Martin Luther King Jr. and Bayard Rustin in Watts, Los Angeles
When the Watts riots broke out just days after President Johnson signed the 1965 Voting Rights Act into law, King was on the first plane to Los Angeles along with his confidante Bayard Rustin. King declared in front of a crowd of Watts residents:
“I live over 2500 miles from here and I’m not free there and you’re not free here. And I came out here to tell you that no matter what color you are, you are somebody.”
Martin Luther King Jr. and others in Chicago, Illinois
In January of 1966, King traveled to Chicago in an effort to end slum housing. He, along with Coretta and others, lived in a Chicago walk-up with no heat or lights. He wanted to be in service to all, but also live among them. When it was sixteen degrees below zero, people lamented to King about their lack of heat. Babies were being wrapped in newspapers to keep warm amidst the frigid Chicago cold. It was King and his friends, who put money together to fire up the furnaces in the neighborhood. They not only paid to make sure others were warm, they physically fired up the furnaces themselves.
During his Chicago campaign, James Meredith began a March across Mississippi in support of voting rights, and was eventually shot along his journey. King dropped what he was doing to fly Mississippi in order to join the march alongside Stokely Carmichael.
And, on that fateful trip to Memphis, King was in Tennessee to support striking sanitation workers who wanted a livable wage; again, King was resolute in his quest for equality. However, despite all of this, King never thought he was doing enough. Even as countless doctors and friends witnessed his physical and emotional deterioration, King was despondent, because the harder he worked in pursuit of equal rights, the more evil seemed to abound.
As I reflect on our loss of King, there are aspects of his activism that I hope many of us implement: abundance and perspective. There is enough equality to go around and there is plenty of justice for all. In an effort to build sustainable coalitions, I urge us all to do our research and learn about the plight of people across the United States and the world, and then actively do our part to uplift people; let’s get in the trenches.
I fear that as we rack up degrees and attain status, and make it into spaces that our ancestors could only have dreamed of, we are forgetting to reach back. There are so many people, right here in our nation, that have been deemed invisible, or have been deemed insignificant; let’s do our part to change that.
In January, many of us posted some form of: “Happy MLK Day;” “May His Legacy Endure;” “Drum Major for Justice;” and “Injustice Anywhere is a Threat to Justice Everywhere.” Months have elapsed and I ask us (including myself) what are we doing to keep his legacy alive? And in the fifty-six years since his passing, are we any closer to the dream?
I leave you now with the below quote. On April 13, 1968 the Michigan Chronicle published their “Memorial Edition Dedicated to Dr. Martin L. King Jr.” The edition spoke to the pain of Black America, and specifically Detroiters, in the aftermath of King’s assignation. And because Michael Eric Dyson often references how King’s death affected him, a nine-year-old Black Detroiter at the time, I would be remiss if I did not do a bit of primary research.
In February, just two months before his death, Martin Luther King Jr. told his congregation in Atlanta how he wanted to be eulogized. Portions of that sermon were printed in the Chronicle’s memorial edition. May it remind us all to live not for others, but in service to them.
“Every now and then I guess we all think realistically about that day when we will be victimized with what is life’s final common denominator - that something we call death….We all think about it and every now and then I think about my own death and I think about my own funeral. And I don’t think about it in a morbid sense. And every now and then I ask myself what it is that I would want said and I leave the word to you this morning…If any of you are around when I have to meet my day, I don’t want a long funeral.. And if you get somebody to deliver the eulogy tell him not to talk too long…And every now and then I wonder what I want him to say: tell him not to mention that I have a Nobel Peace prize-that isn’t important. Tell him not to mention that I have 300 or 400 other awards - that’s not important. Tell him not to mention where I went to school…I’d like somebody to mention that day that Martin Luther King Jr. tried to give his life serving others. I’d like for somebody to say that day that Martin Luther King Jr. tried to love somebody. I want you to say that day that I tried to be right and to walk with them. I want you to be able to say that day that I did try in my life to clothe the naked. I want you to say on that day that I did try in my life to visit those who were in prison. And I want you to say that I tried to love and serve humanity…Yes, if you want to say that I was a drum major. Say that I was a drum major for justice. Say that I was a drum major for peace. I was a drum major for righteousness. And all the other shallow things will not matter. I won’t have any money to leave behind. I won’t have the fine and luxurious things of life to leave behind. But I just want to leave a committed life behind. And that is all I want to say.”
Books and Documentaries That I Recommend:
April 4, 1968: Martin Luther King Jr.’s Death and How it Changed America, Michael Eric Dyson
Alabama v. King: Martin Luther King Jr. and the Criminal Trial That Launched the Civil Rights Movement, Dan Abrams, David Fisher and Fred Gray (I am currently listening to this audiobook)
King in the Wilderness, Documentary on HBO
MLK/FBI, Documentary on Hulu