Hey Martin, Hey Martin, Hey Martin Luther King!

In 2019, I published this Medium post retelling a story from my childhood that I reflect on every Martin Luther King Jr. Day. This year, I decided to revisit it. The story hasn’t changed, but what it means to me today has. I hope you can reflect on this during MLK day and think about how you can be a small part of any change.

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In 1st grade, my parents decided that we should write a rap about Martin Luther King Jr. and his fight for civil rights. My brother, my brother’s best friend, Chad, and I sat in the living room with my parents brainstorming lyrics, thinking we were Jay-Z writing his next big hit. “Martin Luther King, you know the name, but do you know about his claim to fame?” we started. Little did we know we were starting something that became one of my most memorable childhood experiences.

Once we had perfected the song, we performed it in front of my brother’s 4th-grade classroom over a pre-uploaded keyboard beat that sounded more like a video game theme song. We quickly became one-hit wonders. The rest of the week, students in my brother's classroom ran around school screaming, “Hey Martin, Hey Martin, Hey Martin Luther King!”

My parents achieved their goal.

From kindergarten through 11th grade, I attended Canton Public School in Canton, MA — a medium-sized, mostly white suburb of Boston. Living in a four-bedroom home at the end of a cul-de-sac was the true American Dream for my parents. They were raised in the inner city in middle- to low-income households. They were able to send my brother and me to the highly rated local public schools instead of the below-average city schools we would have attended if we stayed in Boston.

As two descendants of slaves who were born in Tennessee and Alabama, my parents lived and experienced the Civil Rights Movement. They were 16 years old when MLK Jr. was assassinated. They have used a “blacks only” bathroom, sat in the “black section” of a restaurant, and have been forced to sit at the back of a bus. For them, it was critical that their kids understand black history. They hoped school would be an obvious place to do so.

As my mother began investigating our elementary school history curriculum, she realized it lacked a substantive lesson on African American history. The only content was that there were slaves from Africa who Abraham Lincoln rescued, and of course, we would listen to MLK’s “I Have a Dream” speech every January. The rest of our exposure to US History revolved around Christopher Columbus, the origins of Thanksgiving, and the Founding Fathers.

Instead of complaining until she became “that mom”, my mom decided to take matters into her own hands. She started coming into each one of our classes to share the history and accomplishments of African Americans.

My mom was a pioneer. Instead of only teaching us at home, she brought her lessons into our classrooms, realizing that our mostly white classmates needed to learn, too. Exposing our classmates to our culture and history helped them understand where we come from and what we value. It also exposed them to positive African American stories (contrasting what they were exposed to through the media).

The MLK rap was a part of my mom’s curriculum.

We ended up performing the MLK rap for five years. It spread beyond my brother’s classroom to all-school assemblies at every Canton Public School, performances at multiple Boston churches, and even a performance at the Mayor’s MLK breakfast. To this day, when I see people from my elementary school years, they bring up the MLK rap. It made an impression.

Today is Dr. Martin Luther King’s 96th birthday. He envisioned a society in which how you look does not determine how you are treated. Unfortunately, the vision he fought for is still not a reality.

Today, the fight to address this in the workplace is under attack. Due to political pressure, well-known organizations once outward advocates of fighting for equity have erased their commitments. They have cowardly withered under political pressure.

But I don’t think influencing change solely depends on a well-known corporate logo or who leads our country.

Like my mom, we all have the power to take matters into our own hands. We all can take small actions that give those with less privilege a chance to thrive, and this is more important now than ever.

My passion is bringing light to corporate spaces and giving people career advice that allows them to navigate their careers with confidence and clarity. I aspire to help others who often do not feel welcome in corporate spaces navigate them confidently.

What’s your contribution? How will you embrace my mother’s efforts?

When I originally wrote this post, I said, “Building an environment where ALL people — regardless of background — are comfortable and can thrive takes time — and truthfully, it’s hard.”

This is still the case.

In a speech at a college rally, MLK said, “If you can’t fly then run, if you can’t run then walk, if you can’t walk then crawl, but whatever you do you have to keep moving forward.” As all of us work to build a better country and workplace, let’s remember to build empathy and play a part in achieving MLK’s vision, and let’s keep moving forward as he wanted us to, regardless of the circumstances.

P.S — If you want to know the entire rap, here you go…