Well, can you hear me?

(Audience) Yes.

Why do they ask me to come
and speak behind this guy?

(Laughter)

This is absolutely incredible, absolutely.

But I'm happy to be here
and to join you and to share with you

some of my experiences.

I first want to say
that my wife has joined me here,

Kate LaFayette, okay?

(Applause)

She's part of history;

she was one of those who were
from Tuskegee, Alabama, Macon County,

and she was part of the first group
of college students there

who was the test case
for voter registration,

back in the early days there.

So she's done some very incredible things.

She knew George Washington Carver -

okay? -

when she was a little girl, growing up.

He taught her mother
how to take care of the plants

and that sort of thing.

So she's a part of a very, you know,
unique history in our country, there,

from Tuskegee.

But more importantly, for me,
that's why I know that God loves me.

I've been reassured

because he gave me an angel
to guide me through

so I'd know what heaven was like
before I get there.

That's my wife, Kate LaFayette.

(Applause)

And she lets me
have ice cream every night.

(Laughter)

Well, I want to share with you

some of the concepts and the philosophy
related to nonviolence,

and I just thought that what we've done
so far here that I've experienced

is so apropos to what I'm going
to share with you this evening

because you're right on it.

There's no question about it.

You're right on it, and I'm so proud
to be associated with Emory University

when I see what you're doing
as young people and students here.

Makes me very proud. I can tell you that.

Nonviolence

is old as the history of mankind,

and yet it's a foreign term
to many people.

My first exposure to this concept

did not bear the name "nonviolence."

It basically described
what love was all about.

And we've heard this
many times in growing up,

you know, how important it is to love,

and there are many different loves,
of course, and the Greeks have five.

We talk about love -

in the nonviolent context, we separate it.

The eros,

which is mainly the love

for the, you know, spiritual realm of life

but that has come to be

the love between those
who have affectionate relationships,

more intimate.

And then, of course,

there's philos or philia,

which has to do with relationship

between brothers and brothers
and sisters and sisters

and more fraternal -
that's the basis of our fraternities,

the philos, philia.

But nonviolence is based on agape,

the Greek definition of love

which means that you love,
expecting nothing in return.

It's a love that's not reciprocal;

it's not the basis
of an exchange, equal exchange,

but it's a love that goes beyond

the particular kind of rewards

that one would get from each other.

You love me, I love you.

You don't love me,
then I don't love you.

No.

This agape has to do with something

that's much more powerful;

and in fact, it's regenerated

based on the ability to give,

that you give only to gain,
but you gain more to give,

but it's not reciprocal in the sense
that you gain from those that you give to

but rather within itself
becomes self-generative.

So the concept, then, of nonviolence
is based on this type of love.

And I came to experiment with this

in the context of the movement
for social change

when I was in Nashville,
Tennessee, as a student.

I got involved in
the student sit-in movement,

and I started to learn
about this concept of nonviolence

from James Lawson Jr.,

who was a Methodist
seminary student at Vanderbilt,

worked for the Fellowship
of Reconciliation,

and he started these trainings
there in Nashville, among us.

There were people
like our congressman here.

John Lewis was involved
in those workshops,

and Diane Nash,

who some of you have been exposed to

since she's been involved in
the Freedom Rides and that sort of thing,

and many others -

Reverend C.T. Vivian,

who was an icon in the movement as well.

There are a number of Freedom Riders
who live here in Atlanta.

We were involved in
this real important experiment:

How do we change
these segregated conditions?

And is it possible to change
these conditions

without using revolutionary methods,

without using force and arms?

Is there another power
that's not destructive,

but a power that's constructive,
reconciliatiory, transformative?

We became really fascinated by this idea.

Mahatma Gandhi -

we were exposed to Mahatma Gandhi.

This little man -

dressed in this little, skimpy outfit -

had the power to change England.

My goodness.

But first he had to change
the people in India.

But as an experiment,
actually started in South Africa.

That's where he was,
in South Africa, in Durban.

And this little Indian fellow -
okay? - Mahatma Gandhi,

decided to experiment
with this notion, satyagraha,

and he started that experiment.

We call it an African roots with,

you might say, Indian and American fruit,

but it's really global, around the world.

So here we find
this concept of nonviolence,

the one that's the noun
rather than the adjective.

Not the one with the hyphen.

The one with the hyphen
could be "without violence,"

but the concept of nonviolence as a noun

is a name of a philosophy,

a name of a way of life,

a name of a system of thought.

And here, we find this Indian man

was able to embrace this concept

and be able to demonstrate it

in such a way that people
began to find new ways and new tools

to struggle for social change.

But it had to start from within.

Yes.

It had to start from within.

The overcoming that we sang
in the movement

starts with overcoming
our own inability to control our emotions.

Yes.

Because if we can control
our own emotions,

then it means that we
can control situations.

Most of the violence that occur,
we think of physical violence,

but I would say
if there was a survey done,

the massive amount of violence
is not physical,

but it's how people treat each other.

Unfortunately, there are some people
who did have a family reunion,

one time,

and then they decided that
"We can't have any more family reunions.

Let's just text each other."

(Laughter)

"You know, call each other up
on the phone or something like that."

But they won't come together

because of the relationships
and perceptions that people have.

So this is an important kind of experiment

because not only does it deal
with countries

or either factions or groups
within countries,

yes,

because of ethnic reasons
and because of so-called racial,

and I want to clarify this right now.

The basic problem that we have
in relationship to people many times,

we call it racism

and we call it racial conflict,

racial oppression.

Well, you see, actually,

the racial part is just a symptom
of a deeper problem.

The racism is really based
on what Dr. Chester Pierce,

a former professor at
Harvard University's School of Education,

called "childism."

Childism is much more
pervasive and universal

than any other kind of ism.

So that is a basis of all the other:

ageism, sexism, okay, we call it racism

or all kind of other isms like that.

It's like, for example,

you would not give a child
a $20 bill, a four-year-old,

even though you want to make
a contribution, make him happy,

and then take the $20 bill,

what do they do
with that bill, that money?

They turn around 
and give it to their parents

because, after all, they're children

and you would expect them
to be responsible

and to use it responsibly.

So childism.

Nigeria produces about one-fourth
of the oil for the United States,

but you wouldn't expect them
to be able to have a refinery

over there, in Africa.

No, we'd have to bring the oil here,

we'll refine it, and then
we'll sell it back to them.

Childism.

That has nothing to do with race. No.

Race becomes a convenient
line of demarcation

so we can decide
who we're going to exploit.

Yes, there's some women who are hired,
and people don't even know they're women.

Thought they hired a man.

Uh huh. Yeah.

That's what I'm talking about.

And by the way,

there's some blacks who are hired,
and they think they're black,

but we know them,
we can look at them and tell, okay?

Yeah.

In Louisiana, one time,

they had about 2,000 black people
move North and became white.

It had nothing to do with race;

it's trying to identify a color.

And see, if you put race
on the base of color,

you'll mess up every time.

Yeah. It happened in Nashville.

We were demonstrating
at the movie theater,

and we had this situation
where 20 of us would go to a theater,

and we would stand outside -

you couldn't go inside
and buy a ticket, had to stand outside -

and we would go round and round,

and then we would try to get a ticket.

And we were refused.

This woman got out of the car,
her husband went to park the car,

she got up there,
she was trying to get a ticket,

and they wouldn't sell her a ticket.

We knew she was white,
but she had a deep suntan.

And she could not buy a ticket.

That had nothing to do with race,

that had to do with the color line

in trying to figure out, okay,
who they're going to exploit.

Moving on very quickly,

I want to share with you
an example of nonviolence.

I was parking my car one night
in Selma, Alabama,

the same night
that Medgar Evers was killed.

Medgar Evers was
state president of the NAACP,

and when these people came on to me,
who had a car parked across the street,

the hood was up, so I assumed
they had car trouble, two white men.

They came in; one of them
walked up to where I was,

and I knew that that was it for me.

So I turn around because we're trained
to face our opponents

or potential assailants.

And he said, "Buddy,

how much you charge me to give me a push?"

I was glad that's all he wanted.

I said a push, no problem -
I'll give you a push.

I jumped in my car - had a '48 Chevrolet -

and I drove it behind him
to match the bumpers.

He stood down, out there,

and then he finally got down on his knees,
looking to see if the bumpers matched.

Then he finally told me, said,

"You know, you better
come out and take a look."

And when I got out there and bent down -

because it was late at night, I was trying
to hurry up and get this push over

so I can get back to bed -

and he boom!

I went straight down to the ground.

I got up; I knew it was a trick then.

I stood up and faced him.

He was huge,

had a crew cut haircut, sleeves rolled up.

And then he hit me again,
right on the top of my head.

I fell to the ground,
rolled over in the streets,

got back up again.

I was only weighing 136 pounds.

I looked at him again.

I could hardly see him
because the blood was all over my face.

I could look through my eyelashes
and I could see him.

Then he hit me again.

Rolled over, got back up.

Struggle.

Looked at him.

The theory is

unusual but genuine behavior

has the potential to arrest
the conscience of your assailant.

Unusual but genuine behavior.

What was I thinking about
when I stood up and looked at him

and maintained self-discipline?

I was thinking about the fact
that here he was -

I don't know what his profession was,

but probably he didn't have
a lot of things in life, all right?

So I thought about the fact -

and you have to be preoccupied;

you can't be black-minded
when you practice nonviolence.

You've got to be active-minded;
you've got to fight,

and what you're fighting -
okay? - on the inside.

You see my point?

Yeah, maintaining your own discipline.

Fighting fear.

Yeah, that's one thing you had to fight.

When someone attacks you,
you've got to fight fear.

I was thinking about this:

if I had grown up white in his community,

had his parents, had his minister,
had his relatives,

had his, had his, had his,

why, I would have behaved
probably the same way as he did.

It's an accident.

You didn't choose what race
you were going to be born in -

so-called race.

You didn't choose
what ethnicity you all had.

You didn't make those choices.

Here you showed up on earth,

and by the way, we're not born
in cities and countries,

we're born on a planet,

and we share it with the folks
right now that we are with,

but it won't be long.

We're just here for a season.

But what I was thinking about -
as I close, end is now, close time -

a song that I heard in Nashville

when I couldn't find
a good station on the radio.

I decided - I just kept hearing
those hillbilly songs -

yow, yow, ang, yang, yang, yang, yaw.

In Nashville, now, 96 stations -

and I say, "Well, I don't know;
I'm just going to turn that thing off."

Then I thought about it,
"No, no. I need to -"

I was hearing the music,
but I was not listening.

That's the key to nonviolence: listening.

So I turned the station on,

and the first one I got,
so I close,

here's what I heard,

here's what I think about all of the time

when I look at how, sometimes,
some white folks behaved towards blacks,

and you know what I discovered?

You ought to see
how they behave to each other.

People accuse folks of behaving
a certain way because they're black.

Uh uh. Not all the time.

You ought to see
how they treat each other.

And I heard this song:

(Singing with a twang)
"She was poor, but she was honest.

Victim of a rich man's pride.

When she met that Christian gentleman,

Big Jim Folsom,

and she had a child by him.

It's the rich who gets the glory.

It's the poor who gets the blame.

It's the same the whole world over.

Now ain't that a dirty, cryin' shame?

Now he sits in the legislature,

making laws for all mankind

while she roams the streets
of Carmen, Alabama,

selling grapes from her grape vine.

It's the rich who gets the glory.

It's the poor who gets the blame.

It's the same the whole world over.

Now ain't that a dirty, cryin' shame?"

(Applause)

Thank you.