My name is Neil Van Kirk, I am a senior at the Delbarton School in Morristown, and I am, tonight, going to give a reflection on Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. I first decided to come here after a teacher, Mr. Currie, gave a wonderful oration, his own reflection, on Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. I heard there was an open mic, and I wondered what someone like me, a young white man , someone who lives in a very different town than King lived, someone who lives in a very different state than he did, someone who goes to a very different high school than he did, could say about him.
Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., was an extraordinary man. He was extraordinary, beyond ordinary, beyond normal, but in the end, he was just a man. A man to whom we dedicate nights like this, a man whose words we treasure, a man after whom we name streets, like Martin Luther King Avenue, which I take when I go to the Morris County Library. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., was just a man. He was not perfect, none of us are. I grew up attending Mendham Township Elementary School, and every time the day of his memory came up, my class would travel to the library and read about him, his seemingly perfect life. Of course the children’s books left out things, that he would die at the hands of another man, that he was no saint. What was extraordinary about Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., was that he was a man, just a man, who grew up in an age where people who shared his skin color shared also a common history of oppression, violence, prejudice, and they told him that was how it had been for generations, and that was how it will be for generations, where people who did not look like him used gas, water, dogs, guns against him, excluded him and those who looked like him from the basic dignities of life.
What was extraordinary about Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., was that he grew up in an age, an age of war, hatred, and oppression, and yet he chose nonviolence, compassion, and love. He was criticized for his silence, that he did not use force to bring people like him out of their generations of pain, and suffering, but he fought with all his fire, and all his furor. His fire and furor in words, for his only defense was his body when he marched down the streets, arm in arm with his friends, peers, followers, towards the dogs and water guns and tear gas. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was just a man, an extraordinary man because he did all this, all of these things to teach the men who looked like me three generations ago that he too was a man. He was made of flesh and bone, just like I am.
And he dreamed, just like I do. My dreams might be slightly different than his, but I dream nonetheless. I have a dream that one day I will fall in love. I have a dream of a small, cozy apartment, lined to the ceiling with books, which I can read to my children each night, before they fall asleep. I have a dream that my kids, and my friend’s kids will be playing in our school’s garden, and they will not yet know the painful challenges of adult life. I have a dream of happily ever after. And these are all dreams. Just dreams. But each of us has dreams, and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., showed us he was human, because he too had dreams. Dreams which he never saw completed. If he had lived for another ten, twenty, thirty, forty years would he have seen his dreams come true? Would he have seen the Los Angeles Riots, the Newark Riots, Rodney King, George Floyd? Would he have seen lynchings still, loved ones crying still, black men, women, and children whose standard of living still lies far below that of the white men, women, and children? Or would he have seen progress? Would he have seen legislation enacted, services reformed, segregation truly ended, a generation like ours wherein racism is opposed, where we dedicate nights like this to his memory? I do not know, because he did not live another ten years. But his memory lives on. May his memory always live on.
