King's Successors

Martin Luther King, Jr.’s life symbolized the axiom, “Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” as he led the Civil Rights Movement (he wasn’t the only leader to be clear) and ultimately sacrificed his life. In a monarchy, a successor takes the throne after the King has died, and I believe that, “We the [Black] People,” must see ourselves as King’s successors because that’s the only way we keep his dream alive. However, there’s one critical lesson we need to consider before we succeed the throne. King used his education in the service of racial justice.

King was a learned man, having earned degrees at Morehouse College, Crozer Theological Seminary, and Boston University School of Theology, but credentials alone didn’t make him the man he was. He believed that education was only as good as one’s morals. King understood this as a teenager during his time at Morehouse. He wrote an essay titled "The Purpose of Education," in which he argued that while education allows us to exercise objectivity and separate fact from fiction, knowledge without good intentions is dangerous. He writes:

Some of the greatest criminals in society have been men who possessed the power of concentration and reason, but they had no morals…Education without morals is like a ship without a compass…It is not enough to have the power of concentration, but we must have worthy objectives upon which to concentrate.

What good is an education if people only use it to pursue income and wealth at the expense of their souls? Black people cannot win playing white games. I’m not saying we shouldn’t get paid or acquire wealth because the revolution needs funding. Nevertheless, what will people say about you when you’re long gone? Will they say that you used your education selfishly or selflessly? Will they say that you made a difference for yourself, others, or both? We can’t all be Martin Luther King, Jr., nor do we need to – that’s unrealistic. However, if we decide to use our education in service of racial justice, we’ve done our part. It’s one thing to call ourselves Black “Kings” and “Queens.” It’s another thing to wear the crown and bear its responsibility.

On February 4, 1968, two months before King’s assassination, he preached a sermon titled "Drum Major Instinct," which he defined as “a desire to be out front, a desire to lead the parade, a desire to be first.” King wasn’t passing judgment on people who struggled with the drum major instinct because he understood that “We all want to be important, to surpass others, to achieve distinction, to lead the parade.” Instead, he was impelling the congregation to control this impulse for the betterment of humanity. As he reached the sermon’s apex, he imagined his funeral and instructed the congregation not to discuss his credentials and achievements after his death because those things were immaterial to his purpose. He preached:

Say I was a drum major for peace. I was a drum major for righteousness. And all of 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’s all I want to say.

He adds:

If I can help somebody pass along,

If I can cheer somebody with a word or song,

If I can show somebody he’s traveling wrong,

Then my living will not be in vain.

I fear too many of us are using our education and financial success to fuel the drum major instinct. If we genuinely want to honor King’s legacy, we’ll use our education to stir up good trouble (R.I.P. John Lewis), inspire a nation, and make history as we face the days ahead.

~ One Negro, 1-17-25

Photo by Sai Madhav on Unsplash