Standing next to Dr. King was a risk. Time and conviction would dictate if it would be an “intelligent” one, but the truth was very simple: You could die for being on this side of history. He was an outlaw. For those who shared the vision, it was fraught with consequences.

I remember sitting with my grandmother and asking her what it was like to watch him live and captivate an entire nation.”It was never a matter of if someone was going to take his life baby,” she said while watering a struggling hibiscus in her house shoes. “It was when.”

Dr. King focused on execution. He was hated for how tightly he held to a vision of what could be, even when he realized he wouldn’t see it come to fruition in his lifetime. But having a vision attracts people and resources. Black excellence is scary enough; black people organized for a purpose is a nightmare.

Dr. King was also imperfect. There are rumors, facts, and everything in between when it comes to his personal life. But that’s exactly what makes him so special. Imperfections make us accessible, and as a leader, your job is to lead by example. Perfection is inaccessible;

I’d much rather be wrong with my convictions, than consistently right with my apathy.

History is a tattered book. No edges are smooth. Peace is written deeply in the margins, scribbled near the footnotes, and smeared in the epilogue. It never comes easily. Not for Mandela, not for Ghandi, and certainly not for the good Reverend. He lived for the same thing that took his life. In that pursuit of purpose, King answered 4 questions that we could take some time to reflect on today:

WHO DO I LOVE?

WHAT DO I LOVE?

TO WHAT AM I COMMITTED?

TO WHOM AM I COMMITTED?

Dr. King,  we honor you for your refusal to succumb to popular pressure to simply “be quiet.”  Thank you.