King left a great legacy of honor, not celebrity

By THE REV. DR. DEFOREST • B. SOARIES JR. • January 21, 2010


Ten years ago, I made my second visit to Israel. During this trip, one of my stops was at a school located in the northern part of the country on a mountain that had biblical significance.

It is believed that it was on this mountain - Mount Carmel - that the prophet Elijah summoned divine power to defeat the power of a pagan god. Today, this mountain is home to a boarding school that houses almost 500 students that need a place to call home.

What was immediately striking and impressive about this institution was the cultural diversity of its students and staff. Not only did the student body consist of young people who had been born and raised in Israel, but there were also a sizeable numbers of students whose families had immigrated from Russia and Ethiopia.

Apparently, it was a rather big deal for many of the African students that their community had a black visitor. Such an encounter for them was a rare experience. They were so excited that I was there that they insisted on taking pictures with me. The place they chose for their photographs was in front of their dormitory.

These were not children sent to boarding school by wealthy families. Rather, they were orphans, homeless children and other students for whom this institution had become their only home. The administrators of the school have intentionally created an environment to make them feel at home.

In the case of these Ethiopian students - many of whom had been airlifted by the Israeli government to save them from anti-Jewish persecution in their homeland - this meant designing a dormitory that resembled an Ethiopian habitat with as many of the attending architectural and aesthetic features that were practical for this environment. I was struck by the extent to which these educational leaders had sought to embrace and affirm the cultural identity of these students. I was even more struck by the name these Ethiopian students had chosen for their dormitory: Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

These Ethiopian children in northern Israel recognized King as a great man and their hero.

I shared this story with Coretta Scott King, widow of Martin Luther King Jr., a few years before she died. Although Mrs. King had accumulated an impressive list of schools, streets and other entities that bore the name of her slain husband, she had no knowledge of this dormitory in Israel. And when I told her, she seemed genuinely surprised, as if she still had to get accustomed to the fact that she had been married to someone who had become so famous.

King's name is engrained in our national culture. But in an age when the notion of celebrity seems to dominate that culture, the fact that King has become famous can be a disingenuous distraction more than it is an historic honor. Our society is so mesmerized by famous people - celebrities and stars - that we must be careful to distinguish between the meaning of King's fame versus our tabloid notions.

Unfortunately, we now seem to equate greatness with fame. Celebrity status seems to bestow upon our cultural icons such unearned adoration and significance that the celebrity "class" seems to rule the day. It does not seem to matter how people attain their fame. The mere fact of notoriety seems to be sufficient to become a member of this class with all of the stature, influence and access that goes along with it.

No field of endeavor is out of bounds for someone who wants to become a star. In fact, star status can enhance one's ability to be credible and successful in areas that once required intelligence, integrity and ingenuity. Our ever-present infatuation with the "rich and the famous" has made name recognition and celebrity status ends unto themselves, not just for entertainers and athletes but also politicians, preachers, physicians and business executives. Everyone is now a brand.

That is why it can be difficult to preserve the legacy of King - or George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, Eleanor Roosevelt or any other historically significant person - as seen through the lens of our current understanding of "famous." While today we ascribe greatness to those who are famous simply because they are famous, people like King were actually famous because they were great.

Anyone who attracts sufficient media attention can become famous despite the nature of their deed. But to be great, one must do something so meaningful that it adds meaning to someone else's life and its benefits outlive that person's life. Often, these deeds go unnoticed, and their virtual anonymity prevents them from ever being considered great.

In honoring Martin Luther King Jr., those Ethiopian children remind us that King was not great because he was famous - rather he was famous because he was great.

If we look hard enough, we may find that the truly great people are not famous, but - like King before he was famous - are making someone's life better and leaving a legacy for the benefit of others.