King's ability to change was his legacy



By Mary Sanchez
Knight Ridder Newspapers
Martin Luther King Jr. did not like white people. Not always.
No, this is not a takeoff on Kanye West's statement about George Bush after Hurricane Katrina. Nor does this fact demean King.
Rather, it honors King to understand that he did not always embrace the ideal of brotherly love, at least not as a young man. The point is valid this time of year when so many well-intentioned celebrations oversimplify King. King becomes a dreamer, a man who only spoke about little black children holding hands with little white children and contemplations about judging people by their character.
For younger audiences, the well-known quotes are a logical way to introduce King's legacy.
But for everyone else, please a little less recitation from the "I Have A Dream" speech, and a little more from King's last book, "Where Do We Go From Here: Chaos or Community?"
The famous Dream speech was given in 1963. King did not die until 1968. Freezing King's image to the early '60's overlooks one of his greatest attributes: His ability to radically change.
King personified self growth. Take non-violence.
At one point in his life, King intended to meet the violence that often threatened him with violence. He had armed body guards and applied for a gun permit. Later, as he deepened in his spiritual faith and better understood how societies change, King adopted a strong moral belief in nonviolence.
Some people might also be surprised that King -- faced with death threats -- contemplated disengaging himself from the civil rights movement. He tried to figure out a way to do this and not be branded a coward.
And King fought bitterly at times with some black clergy, especially as he shifted toward global concerns.
King was greatly criticized for linking the cost of the Vietnam War to a lack of funding for anti-poverty programs in the United States. He also ostracized himself by speaking out about world issues, as when he wrote in 1987, "racism and its perennial ally -- economic exploitation -- provide the key to understanding most of the international complications of this generation."
And yes, he did not always like white people. As a child, King watched his father be called "boy" by police officers and storeclerks. He saw white police officers and white supremacist groups beat black people in the streets. In high school, King had to stand on a bus for 90 miles after the driver cursed him and ordered a teenage King to give up his seat to white passengers.
Painful memories
Among King's most painful early memories was when the father of a white childhood friend forbid him to play with his son because King was "colored." King's parents used the incident to explain the history of American slavery and other racial horrors.
"I was greatly shocked and from that moment on, I was determined to hate every white person," King recalled later in writings, although his parents had also stressed the Christian ideal of brotherly love for mankind. "How can I love a race of people who hate me?"
"I did not conquer this anti-white feeling until I entered college and came in contact with the white students through working in interracial organizations."
The most astute scholars of King have long argued that if Americans really grasped everything that King stood for, the country wouldn't have given him a national holiday.
Thank God the holiday was granted.
But if King is remembered today only for discussions about black/white racial harmony, a good portion of his message is missed. This is not to argue that King should be knocked off his pedestal. But realize how he got there.
The Martin Luther King Jr. who was assassinated was a far cry from the young man who despised white people. King changed radically in his short lifetime through prayer, questioning and study. Such traits are worthy of honoring today, and emulating year round.
X Mary Sanchez is an opinion-page columnist for The Kansas City Star. Distributed by Knight Ridder/Tribune Information Services.