Dreams Unfulfilled : Many at King Tribute Believe Blacks’ Progress Hasn’t Gone Far Enough

For thousands of people who lined the boulevard under a dreary Los Angeles sky Monday to honor assassinated civil rights leader the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., it was a day to reflect as much on dreams not realized as on those attained.

Gone are the days of whites-only drinking fountains, seats at the back of the bus and police dogs unleashed on peaceful protesters. But the African-Americans who came from throughout Southern California to the 11th and largest parade held in King’s memory spoke of a different, more insidious racism--like a knife that stabs quietly, one woman put it, but no less deep.

“King would be kicking all the dirt off his grave if he knew what was going on today,” Yvonne Harold, a nurse wearing a King T-shirt, said.

“Today, the racism is institutionalized--the doors of corporate America are closed,” Bruce Staggers, a 31-year-old credit manager, said angrily from the porch of a home along the boulevard King’s name. Staggers and his friends had joined an integrated crowd gathered to celebrate the life of King, on what would have been the 62nd birthday of the minister who was slain in Memphis, Tenn., in 1968. “They don’t say whites only, but you know it’s whites only.”

Amid the dancing and revelry of this birthday celebration, people were asked to reflect on the nearly 28 years that have passed since King’s “I Have a Dream” speech reverberated among 200,000 people who packed the Mall from the Lincoln Memorial to the U.S. Capitol. Today, the nation’s two largest cities are led by black mayors. Blacks continue to serve in federal Cabinet-level positions. There have been more opportunities for people of color to move into the middle-class than ever in U.S. history.

But many blacks and their families who sat on curbs and lawn chairs along the 2 1/2-mile route said they are still struggling--from the emaciated homeless woman who begged for money, to the aerospace executive who said he could not seem to move up within his corporation.

“Racism had placed a ceiling on my career,” said Phil Frierson, a 32-year-old defense industry worker who recently left his job because, he claimed, he could not advance. “The door was opened wide enough for me to get in, but the good-ol’-boy network usually prevents blacks from advancement. That’s something we still have to tackle.”

Many feared that the gains of the past three decades are fleeting. The problems blacks face are as acute today as they were 30 years ago, they said.

More American blacks are in prison than in college. Blacks make up a disproportionate share of the nation’s homeless, jobless and those infected with AIDS. Black people account for 12% of the country’s population, but one-third of the soldiers fighting in the Persian Gulf.

“The struggle is not over. It’s a total contradiction to have us bombing the people (in the Persian Gulf) at a time when we’re celebrating King’s holiday,” said Juan Longino, 31, standing at a police barricade as a high school band danced by. “We can go where we want to go. We have all the basic rights, but . . . we still live in a society where our children are easily discouraged. There are many ills with our system.”

The parade to remember a man of peace was held, for the first time, in a nation at war. Some spectators cheered and others growled when an Army tank passed with three stiff-backed soldiers standing at attention. Cadets in dress blues toted the colors down the boulevard and scores of tiny American flags fluttered.

“I do support President Bush and Operation Desert Storm 100%,” said Terry Cobb, 60, a title insurance searcher from West Los Angeles who spent 10 years in the Air Force. “I think it’s horrible these protesters screaming in the streets.”

Thirty years ago, it was King who said the billions being spent on the Vietnam War would better serve the poor at home.

“Little has changed,” Rhonda Minter, 36, said sadly. “It seems we are repeating the same mistakes that we did when King was alive. . . . Mothers are still sending their children to fight.”

About 1,600 parade revelers--from church groups and cowboys to beauty queens and the Imperial Potentate of the Egyptians of Los Angeles--rolled down the boulevard. The happy procession began at the edge of a pocket of poverty once known as the Jungle, ambled through the middle-class Leimert Park neighborhood of two-story homes and ended near USC.

Some used the occasion to examine how the black community can help itself. Afuz Chinue Ifama, 53, dressed in an African gown and leaning on a carved cane, concluded that blacks have come a long way, but not far enough.

“In some ways things have gotten worse. There is less respect for the elderly,” she said. “King would be disturbed by the fact that I am standing here worrying about where to put my purse. That’s sad.”

The blatant hostility has clearly waned since the days of King’s protests, when people marching for civil rights in Southern states were clubbed by police and blasted with fire hoses. The parade route in Los Angeles was as dotted with young black men and women who had graduated from prestigious colleges as it was with the undereducated who cannot find a job. Children who recited by rote their lessons on the civil rights era stood beside people who lived it.

“We have come a long way from the days when restaurants and restrooms had ‘Whites Only’ signs,” Robert Johnson, 57, who marched with King in Chicago, said from atop his bicycle. “Black people today have more opportunities, but we have a long way to go before we can say that King’s dream has come true.”