this speech was delivered at a jcr emergency meeting to discuss opposition to the room ballot. the reaction of christopher kelly, the senior tutor, was one of confused rage. he made the following statement 'i am proud of myself'. whatever the true meaning of the speech - and, frankly, we really aren't sure about this - it is a clear indicator of the feelings of dissent currently pervading the college. the orator of the speech has chosen to remain anonymous for fear of college disciplinary action.
I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our college.
Thirty-two score and ten years ago, two great guilds, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, founded Corpus Christi. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to hundreds of underachievers who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their segregation.
But 650 years later, the underachiever still is not free. Six hundred and fifty years later, the life of the underachiever is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. Six hundred and fifty years later, the underachiever lives on a lonely island of misery in the midst of a vast ocean of intellectual snobbery. Six hundred and fifty years later, the underachiever is still languished in the corners of Corpus society and finds himself an exile in his own college. And so we've come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
In a sense we've come to our college's JCR to cash a check. When the fellows of our college wrote the magnificent words of the Charter and the Tenancy Agreement, they were signing a promissory note to which every student was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men - yes, underachievers as well as first-class students - would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and a choice of room.
t is obvious today that Corpus has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her students of lesser achievement are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, Corpus has given the underachievers a bad check, a check that has come back marked "insufficient funds."
But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this college. And so we've come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and choice of room. We have also come to his hallowed spot to remind Corpus of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of intellectual justice. Now is the time to lift our college from the quicksands of intellectual injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.
It would be fatal for the college to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the underachiever's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Two thousand and one is not an end but a beginning. Those who hoped that the underachiever needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the college returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in Corpus until the underachiever is granted his studentship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our college until the bright day of justice emerges.
But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the student community must not lead us to a distrust of all fellows, for many of our senior members, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. And they have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.
And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of equal rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the underachiever is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of college disciplinary action. We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the rooms of our choice. We cannot be satisfied as long as the underachiever's basic mobility is from a chosen room to a random one. We can never be satisfied as long as our students are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by privileges stating "for firsts only." We cannot be satisfied as long as a student with a third has no room and a student with a two: two believes he has no rooms for which to vote. No, no we are not satisfied and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from the porters' lodge. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of college discipline. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.
Go back to Newnham, go back to Botolph, go back to Bene't, go back to Old Court, go back to New Court, go back to the rooms and staircases of our segregated college, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed.
Let us not wallow in the valley of despair. I say to you today my friends - so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the college dream.
I have a dream that one day this college will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are located equal."
I have a dream that one day on the green lawns of Old Court the sons of former first-class students and the sons of former third-class students will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the office of the Senior Tutor, a position sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day study in a college where they will not be judged by the result of their exams but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day down in P staircase, with its vicious intellectual supremacists, with its Senior Tutor having his lips dripping with the words of segregation and separation - one day right there in P staircase underachieving boys and underachieving girls will be able to join hands with first-class boys and first-class girls as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day every third shall be exalted, and every first and high two: one shall be made low, the ballot will be made random, and the allocation of rooms will be made unconditional, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together.
This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the college with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to get sent down together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.
This will be the day, this will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning "My college 'tis of thee, sweet place of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my father's studied, land of the student's pride, from every mountainside, let equality ring!"
And if corpus is to be a great college, this must become true.
And so let freedom ring from the prodigious staircases of New Court.
Let freedom ring from the battered rooftops of Bene't Street.
Let freedom ring from the echoing halls of Botolph Court.
Let freedom ring from the lamp-lined drive of Newnham.
Let freedom ring from the playing fields of Leckhampton.
But not only that; let freedom ring from the stone buildings of Corpus.
Let freedom ring from Office of the Senior Tutor.
Let freedom ring from every lawn and cobble of Old Court - from every doorway.
Let freedom ring. And when this happens, and when we allow freedom ring - when we let it ring from every stair and every room, from every door and every window, we will be able to speed up that day when all of Corpus' students- underachievers and overachievers, firsts and thirds, two:ones and two:twos - will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual: "Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"