Thank you Ms. Coretta for the grace, strength, and dignity that you
Since your wonderful husband was assassinated by the bullets of fear and
You know they killed him because of their ignorance.
Thank you for not allowing bitterness and anger to engulf your very
Now that you are reunited with Martin, tell him that they are stripping our
rights away, day by day, but his fight was not in vain.
Tell him that although my generation glorifies drugs, debases black women in
song, and calls us vulgar names - that his dream still remains.
Our men no longer celebrate our natural black beauty - we have to have long
weaves, small waists, and big ole booties.
The videos are so degrading they mirror soft porn.
Us Blacks own television stations now, but that is all that is shown.
Tell Martin that my generation apologizes for its lack of respect for his
legacy and the dormancy of our elders; we might as well call this the Civil
Rights of Unmovement Era.
Tell him that although we as black people make more than we've ever seen,
that we squander it on diamond clad teeth, 24 inch rims, and designer
clothes due to our sagging self-esteem.
Tell Martin that our babies are growing up without fathers, while the
mothers are catching buses just like he remembers.
Our children take to the streets in droves, not to march or proclaim the
injustice of this nation, but to pledge their gang affiliation.
I can't rhyme to this next line. On any night thugs hang out while bullets !
ring out - not freedom.
And yes we continue to be judged by the color of our skin by America but I
wonder most about the lack of the content of our character.
Advise him that the grand-daughters of the Civil Rights era are making their
money as strippers.
The Grandsons of the marchers are ignoring their sons and daughters and
hanging and slangin' on corners.
They're going to jail in mass numbers, not for protesting, marching, or
defying racism, but because they commit illegal acts to gain materialism.
Our children are making babies, ignoring education, committing felonious
capers, I'd wish they'd read his Birmingham Jail Papers.
Tell Martin that those in the ghetto are not the only ones forgetting his
There are those who've forgotten where they came from because of a little
Who refuse to give back to the community, because their motto is 'More for
They've forgotten how to lend a helping hand, to help their fellow man - all
the while thinking, 'If I can make it, they can'.
Looking down without offering a leg up, getting on elevators with their
Some of us are even republicans now, but that's a very exclusive black
Striving to get to the top of the ladder, to make their pockets fatter -
instead of doing something that truly matters.
Leaving the 'hood' in droves and only moving back when Whites buy up all of
Tell Martin that we still like to dance and sing, but not Negro spirituals
cuz we've got Beyonce grinding and shak! ing her thing.
Ms. Coretta, this may hurt poor Martin the most - it just may seal the deal,
we as a people don't attend church anymore.
Cuz we've gotten a little education and found out that God wasn't real.
For those of us who still believe, it makes us want to holla, we've got a
pimp named Bishop and a Bishop named Dollar.
I don't know Ms. Corretta, maybe you'd better not tell Martin that for all
that he's done to make us free, equal, and just - that we still migrate to
the back of the bus. I'll bet looking down - he doesn't recognize us.
We've forgotten how to march, protest, and vote - but be at the club,
standing in line for hours - in the freezing cold.
Sporting the latest gear; stilettos, hoochie clothes, teeth that's froze,
and Tims - driving cars with less tire! more rim. Dying to get in so that we
can 'shake it fast', drop it like it's hot' - forgetting the respect and
dignity that we were taught.
I neva' thought I'd think this thought, but please don't eva' give Martin
Ms. Coretta, maybe you should just avoid mentioning my generation all