In some ways it is hard to believe, but Martin Luther King, Jr. Day is once again upon us. And so, as has become my compulsion for several years, I sat down to reflect on and to honor the meaning of the day. The last few years, my “offerings” have been more personal- sharing with you the lessons from my beautiful Grandpa and Grandma Wood, who have both passed away. This year, I think you’ll find something a little more political, a little more “loud” (and a little more long-winded). This year I find myself angry and maybe a little disillusioned . And so I spent time reflecting on those feelings, and ultimately, writing a letter to myself- to push me along in my own journey to become my potential.

So I share this letter to myself in hopes that it might speak to you in small way as well and with the wish that this Martin Luther King Day is not just another day, but another day in the country’s journey to become its promise.

I have to start with what stands out to me as one of the most important issues today: the need to focus on the realities of racism and poverty and ageism in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. To be sure the reality of those who were left behind in New Orleans was devastating; and there is also only a thin thread of support for the people who were able to escape the temporary threat of the storm but still face the long-term threat of poverty, racism, ineffectual services, and waning public interest. I wonder what will actually be learned from what we (those who were not directly impacted) witnessed? I imagine that in the Gulf Coast, the pain and circumstances are still front and center as people continue to be impacted every day; however, I wonder if the rest of the country has already forgotten that they stood in horror in front of the television just a few months ago. Has Hurricane Katrina’s impact become a highlight in the “end of the year reel” or is there more? What can be the long-lasting impact of poverty laid bare? What can be our understanding of the link between racism and classism, classism and ageism? This day is an excellent day to commit to lasting conversation and action against poverty, against racism, and to claim ALL people in the United States as our family.

In 1968, Martin Luther King wrote: “Our moral values and our spiritual confidence sink, even as our materials wealth ascends. In these trying circumstances, the black revolution is more than a struggle for the rights of Negroes. It is forcing America to face all its interrelated flaws- racism, poverty, militarism and materialism. It is exposing evils that are rooted deeply in the whole structure of our society. It reveals systemic rather than superficial flaws and suggests that radical reconstruction of society itself is the real issue to be faced.”

This text from his essay “A Testament of Hope” (which was printed after his death) is profoundly, sadly, disturbingly relevant 38 years later. I can’t help but wonder … are the words relevant because the system is unchangeable or because people are unwilling to change the system? Do his word still ring with truth because the flaws of which he speaks are natural parts of society or because it is not our nature to fight against the status quo? Do his words repeat themselves because that is history’s fate or history’s failure? Are we really destined to remain unchanged, unable to challenge systems in profound ways?

The thoughts cross my mind and trouble me, however, despite my frustration and disappointment, I cannot believe that our fate is sealed, that we do not have the power to make permanent change. Indeed, while many of the systems of which King wrote do remain intact, there have been other changes to the system, other advances that must continue…that will continue if we are not passive. And by “we” I mean everyone in the U.S., but especially everyone who has gained privilege, because of their skin color, gender, sexual orientation, religion, socio-economic status, and ability, from the system and structure of our society.

I want to reflect further on the beginning of his statement “our moral values and our spiritual confidence sink, even as our materials wealth ascends.” There has been a lot of talk in the media/popular culture about the “loss of moral values” in our country today. I want to be clear that King’s words should not be taken out of context and thought to echo the cries of moral decline so prevalent today (sentiments used to attack the GLBT community, immigrants, and others). King is referring to the country’s loss of morality in allowing racism to exist, to what he believed to be an immoral war, to the immorality of the existence of hunger and poverty in a land of riches. Equality and equity are moral imperatives. The end of discrimination is moral work.

And so it is a moral imperative (especially as citizens of the U.S.) that we fight for these values both here and around the world. It is a moral failure that genocide in Darfur continues to go on without true intervention. Since February 2003, over 400,000 men, women and children have died while another 2.5 million innocent civilians have been forced to flee their homes. The United States has tremendous power to make change and save lives in Sudan. However, as has been the case in throughout our history, we have not done enough and have not led with responsibility. How long will we allow this to continue?

Last year the movie Hotel Rwanda came out and many people went to see it; many people, including myself, learned about horrors they had not paid enough attention to. But like the images of Hurricane Katrina, how many of us cried, shook our heads, and then went on with our lives while a similar situation raged in Darfur?

This past summer, I had the opportunity to visit the Shoah Foundation which has painstakingly chronicled testimony of survivors of the Holocaust. This wealth of important testimony and voices has been collected to teach, to remind, and to change. I so commend the Shoah Foundation’s work, however, as we sat in the building learning about their work I felt a wave of sadness and dismay come over me. The Foundation staff member explained that as they were almost finished with cataloguing the Holocaust Survivor testimonies, they were beginning to explore compiling testimony from other genocides, such as Rwanda. And sitting there, I got this image of the endless work of compiling tapes- survivor stories from one genocide after another, on and on…. When would it stop? When would the world intervene before testimony was necessary, before the “surviving.” And the cynical part of me imagines a time ten years from now when a movie about Darfur hits the big screen, and once again we are moved and saddened as part of our “entertainment” for a Sunday afternoon. We truly have not learned yet.

I do not mean to be pessimistic or flippant, I am simply troubled and trying to unravel my own feelings, my own reflections, my own internal angst. Because I know that I am part of the problem- I am not indicting others so much as myself.

And I’ve only really spoken to “large level” issues- easy to see (even if we choose not to look). What may be even harder to confront are those subtle ways that we consume racism, sexism, classism, and more everyday. For example, much was made about the language choice used in the covering of Katrina: looting vs. finding. But there are so many other ways that we breed prejudice and discrimination in our language, in our media, in our everyday life.

For example, researchers at the University of Chicago (Marianne Bertrand) and Harvard University (Sendhil Mullainathan) found in a 2003 study that there was widespread discrimination in the workplace against job applicants whose names were merely perceived as “sounding black.” These applicants were 50% less likely than candidates perceived as having “white-sounding names” to receive callbacks for interviews, no matter their level of previous experience. Discrimination based on names on a resume- that’s all-something so easily missed or dismissed or explained away. Yet the impact is very real. And, I know that if asked, the people screening those resumes would say “I’m not racist” or “I don’t discriminate.” Racism so ingrained and unconscious that we don’t see when we are perpetrators. And that is just one example of so many ways prejudice is “rooted deeply in the whole structure of our society.”

This moral work is hard work. It is hard to unravel the ways we collude and we participate and we build the “systematic flaws” of our country.

Do I sound preachy or strident? That is certainly not my intent. But as I‘ve admit, I feel angry this year, I feel discouraged in my reflection. And so, as I said at the beginning, this is a letter to myself as much as anyone else. This a letter to remember that I have a moral responsibility to do, to act. I have a responsibility to remember that the flawed system is made up of people, of me. I have a responsibility to remember that everyday I have a choice (a choice not shared by those without my skin, sexual orientation, or socioeconomic privilege) whether to do something or to be complacent. I must make the choice everyday not to sigh, or simply shake my head, or state my outrage without action.

So this Martin Luther King Day my message is action, big or small, but always action. The humility to know when I have fallen behind and the resolve to continue. Action.