This month we celebrate the life, lessons and legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Many people will take the time to commemorate the federal holiday that marks his birthday with programs, promises and protests. At the same time, pundits as well as pupils will praise his oratorical prowess and talk about the “I Have a Dream” speech. They will choose to showcase words that spell out King's hope for a better America; yet, they will forget King's rigid reminder that after sincere and even ardent welcoming of change is announced, too quickly apathy and disinterest rise to the surface when the next logical steps are to be taken to implement the change. The greatest tribute we can give to Dr. King is to work to make America better not just to talk about a better America. The work is greater than the words.

On my desk sits a framed black and white picture of Dr. King. It is a copy of the famous photograph taken by Benedict J. Fernandez, before King's speech before the United Nations on April 15, 1967 in which he declared the war in Vietnam a racist war before an estimated 500,000 people. The photographer captures Dr. King in a pensive and private moment. We are told that he is surrounded by hordes of supporters, advisors and security personnel but only his vivid visage is shown. I look at this picture of King deep in thought and see more. I see weariness about his countenance. The bags beneath his tired eyes are prominent. There are furrows in the brow of his youthful face. Yet, he does not display the weariness of defeat, weakness, apathy or withering frustration. Rather, it is the look of a leader with a persistent willingness to push on despite fatigue and the magnitude of the task ahead. To me, this picture is as inspiring as his oratory.

If we are to champion Dr. King's legacy and fulfill his dream, we cannot expect “social change to roll in on wheels of inevitability.” We have to work hard as creative strategists for change. It has been said that King’s schedule was grueling. He was a husband, father, pastor, and progressive advocate. He worked 24 hour days, traveled approximately 325,000 miles per year, and often gave as many as 450 speeches per year. He wrote scholarly books, debated the best minds of his time, but he was more than a dreamer, philosopher or scholar. He was a man of action, working on the ground to find creative strategies to turn targeted victories into huge moral triumphs. He worked hard and he refused to give in, give up or give out. He did this in the midst of terrorist threats, some of which were carried out even before he was slain.

This month, many community justice advocates will ask themselves: “What can I do to remember Dr. King in some profound way?” The answer lies in your own spirit and your own ability to push beyond the limits of fatigue and frustration to a higher commitment to challenge some injustice and right some wrong. In his book, Where Do We Go From Here: Chaos or Community? King writes: “A final victory is an accumulation of many short-term encounters. To lightly dismiss a success because it does not usher in a complete order of justice is to fail to comprehend the process of achieving full victory.”

In the final analysis, there is much hard work ahead to achieve a just democracy. The battles begin in all of our communities. When we all work hard on many fronts, using creative strategies to win the short-term encounters, we create the climate and the foundation for achieving the full victory in the way that our weary warrior, Dr. King predicted.