Martin Luther King’s birthday is a day for service, not a holiday
We all have seminal seasons in our life, points along our journey that shape who we are, what we believe, and how we view and interact with the world. Nearly 30 years ago, not too terribly long out of Notre Dame, I had the honor of working for Harris Wofford, a U.S. senator from Pennsylvania, a college president, a consummate public servant — including helping to found the Peace Corps — and a respected civil rights activist. Sen. Wofford was also a trusted confidant and adviser to Dr. and Mrs. King, and that particular friendship would shape our nation and also, later, part of my work on Capitol Hill.
In 1994, the senator teamed with a member of the House of Representatives from Georgia, someone who was an anchor of the civil rights movement himself, to change how we think about the federal holiday that honored the life, legacy and mission of Dr. King. That man was the late John Lewis. What an honor it was to watch, listen to, learn from and briefly work alongside these two giants to bring to life the King Holiday and Service Act. The idea for the legislation occurred to me in the middle of the night after hearing both men complain about Dr. King being remembered with materialism — for example mattress and car sales over the three-day weekend. Their shared vision and concept was simple, as most powerful ones are: This day should be a “day on, not a day off”; a day of action, not apathy; a day of service, not shopping and sales.
Those lessons stuck with me. And so, every year since, I have purposefully and proudly chosen to serve others on this day, a joy I share with my professional colleagues at Accenture, my personal friends from various walks of life, and, most especially, my family and children.
And this year, when so much remains troubled and unsettled in our country, service is even more vital. Service is such a vigorous antidote to apathy or, worse yet, hate, because service comes from a place of love and an ethos of kindness. When we selflessly give our time, talent and treasure to uplift our neighbors and our communities, we, through action, do our part in creating a more perfect union. We tear down walls of misunderstanding and division. We see more fully the humanity in everyone. We grow in gratitude for the blessings we have. We build bridges of peace and invite others to walk alongside us as equals. And we demonstrate the truth in one of Dr. King’s most eloquent thoughts, “Everyone can be great, because everyone can serve.”
When we serve, we also do our part to support a healthy and functioning civil society. The institutions of our democracy are chapped from the harsh winds of discord and enmity. We must do our part to repair them, in the words of Abraham Lincoln, to “bind up the nation’s wounds … to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves.”
This week, we will witness the inauguration of a new American president, Joe Biden, at a time where the divisions between and among us recall some of the darkest days of our republic. We put a lot of emotional energy into what our government and elected officials are and are not doing and, of course, it matters. But sometimes I think we do so at the expense of what is right around us, the needs of our towns and schools, the people to whom our places of worship minister, the ways we can roll up our sleeves and help someone. My personal prayer is that we channel any frustration and fear into focus on, and fidelity to, the simple idea that we all can be lights just as Dr. King suggested we all can be great.
I use the word light intentionally as light conquers darkness.
I use the word light because it reminds us of John Lewis’s encouragement that we all “be headlights not taillights” — and lead from the front in tackling the challenges we face locally and nationally.
And I also use it as I have always admired President George H.W. Bush and currently am on the board of his Points of Light Foundation, which is the nation’s largest organization promoting volunteering. When he left office, gracefully and with dignity after a tough defeat, he wrote his successor, Bill Clinton, a simple note. Its closing words were, “You will be our President when you read this note. I wish you well. I wish your family well. Your success now is our country’s success. I am rooting hard for you.”
Imagine if we all adopted President Bush’s selfless mindset and then adapted it to our everyday life. What if we told our community leaders, “Your success is our success. I am rooting hard for you”? What if we told the charities and organizations that serve our communities, “Your success is our success. I am rooting hard for you”? What if we told our schools, our rehabilitation centers, our public health workers, “Your success is our success. I am rooting hard for you”?
And what if we kept telling them that — and then we turned our words into actions and walked alongside them and, through our sweat equity, helped them achieve that success? That is the legacy of Dr. King: a beloved community is not a pipe dream, but it does take hard work, commitment and a resolve to push even more when times are troubled like they are this Monday.
So, on this King Day, I invite you to join me in service. Your success is my success. I am rooting hard for all of us.