I noted with interest Bill Patry's citing yesterday of an earlier speech by Martin Luther King, Jr., on June 23, 1963 in Detroit which presaged much in the great Lincoln Memorial speech. Like that later August speech, the Detroit invocation is intensely moving, and deeply provocative. 

One need merely hear the Reverend in one's mind to honor the truth of the thoughts:

"And so this social revolution taking place can be summarized in three little words. They are not big words. One does not need an extensive vocabulary to understand them. They are the words "all," "here," and "now." We want all of our rights, we want them here, and we want them now. "

My friend Bill McCoy at Adobe has always been one to caution those of us in our conversations about digital library or publishing futures to think about costs and access for others; reminding us in essence that the world that most of us normally inhabit is not the world, not the set of realities, that most of the world faces.  Costs are apportioned differently: for many, network access might be cheaper than printing paper, for example.  On the other hand, increasingly ubiquitous network access might be very slow network access. 

I live on the border of two cities in the East Bay, Richmond and El Cerrito.  Particularly in Richmond, rich in its history and potential, and poor all too often in its reality, one understands that poverty is not a Third World problem; it is a Whole World problem.  Poverty and the issues of limited information access are global issues, issues affecting the whole human race.  They are urgent issues, and they affect all of us, because we are all part of the shared world.  When we design information discovery and delivery systems for ourselves, we must design for all of us, not just some of us.

There are some who think that the work we do is apolitical, but I think they are wrong.  The work we do is inherently political, because we must not only think; we must work to realize.  The goal of providing access to information is political, and moreover it is radicalizing.  And in that we can know we are in the right place, striving for the right thing.   

I remember a long time ago, as an undergraduate in Texas, watching the evening news with one of my friends, who was also one of my sociology professors.  I watched 10 minutes of some random early 1980s broadcast, and then turned to Richard Michalek and said, "How can anyone watch the news and not become radicalized?"   He turned to me, coughed a laugh, and gave me this bemused quizzical look that basically said, "Yes.  Congratulations, you've just proven that you are awake."  

That news is all around us, all the time.  For all the ease with which I can turn away from it, the challenges that I saw early on in the lives of my neighbors in San Antonio - the challenges that helped me see the news - these same challenges are still familiar enough to remind me about the place we all must occupy in the world.  To speak, to change, to bear witness.  These are the things that we can do for ourselves, and even more importantly, to help others achieve for themselves.