(Download the PDF here to print for offline viewing)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This response to a published statement by eight fellow clergymen from Alabama (Bishop C. C. J. Carpenter, Bishop Joseph A. Durick, Rabbi Hilton L. Grafman, Bishop Paul Hardin, Bishop Holan B. Harmon, the Reverend George M. Murray. the Reverend Edward V. Ramage and the Reverend Earl Stallings) was composed under somewhat constricting circumstance. Begun on the margins of the newspaper in which the statement appeared while I was in jail, the letter was continued on scraps of writing paper supplied by a friendly Negro trusty, and concluded on a pad my attorneys were eventually permitted to leave me. Although the text remains in substance unaltered, I have indulged in the author’s prerogative of polishing it for publication.

April 16, 1963

MY DEAR FELLOW CLERGYMEN:

While confined here in the Birmingham City Jail, I came across your recent statement calling our present activities “unwise and untimely.” Seldom, if ever, do I pause to answer criticism of my work and ideas. If I sought to answer all the criticisms that cross my desk, my secretaries would be engaged in little else in the course of the day, and I would have no time for constructive work. But since I feel that you are men of genuine goodwill and your criticisms are sincerely set forth, I would like to answer your statement in what I hope will be patient and reasonable terms.

I think I should give the reason for my being in Birmingham, since you have been influenced by the argument of “outsiders coming in.” I have the honor of serving as president of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, an organization operating in every Southern state, with headquarters in Atlanta, Georgia. We have some eighty-five affiliate organizations all across the South–one being the Alabama Christian Movement for Human Rights. Whenever necessary and possible we share staff, educational and financial resources with our affiliates. Several months ago our local affiliate here in Birmingham invited us to be on call to engage in a nonviolent direct action program if such were deemed necessary. We readily consented and when the hour came we lived up to our promises. So I am here, along with several members of my staff, because I have basic organizational ties here.

Beyond this, I am in Birmingham because injustice is here. Just as the eighth century prophets left their little villages and carried their “thus saith the Lord” far beyond the boundaries of their home towns; and just as the Apostle Paul left his little village of Tarsus and carried the gospel of Jesus Christ to practically every hamlet and city of the Graeco-Roman world, I too am compelled to carry the gospel of freedom beyond my particular home town. Like Paul, I must constantly respond to the Macedonian call for aid.
Continue reading Letter From a Birmingham Jail →

Many guys my age or older remember the glory days of card collecting. You wouldn’t have thunk it, but I was big into collecting sports cards when I was in elementary and middle school. It started with baseball, Topps with the chewing gum, and then the gloss Upper Deck cards. My fourth grade teacher, Mr. Perry, a big baseball card collector himself, gave away the special holographic edition cards for good behavior in his class, I was hooked. And is the aspiring young capitalist I and everyone else was, most of my time with the cards was spent checking their value in Beckett Price Guides. Basically you would buy some cards and then you would look up their value in this monthly price guide, and if it was worth something you’d stick it in a hard plastic case to protect it’s value.  Baseball cards where like dollar bills, flimsy pieces of paper that held a value, though in a much more volatile market. It was also a gamble. You gambled your allowance, lawn mowing or babysitting money on a sealed pack of cards in hopes that the value in return would be worth much more.  I had a small collection compared to most, but it was still a valuable investment. Someday I would cash in my cards to pay for college, or better yet I’d take my small fortune and retire early.

Enter the voice of reason: My mother. Mom always said,
“It’s only worth that much if someone is willing to pay you for it.”

But mom didn’t know what she was talking about. Some brilliant dude was sitting in a room writing down the value of each card and the rest of us agreed that’s what it’s worth so that’s what we’d pay for it. Mom didn’t realize that in card country the economy was stable and I could cash in now, or in ten years and my small fortune (which I kept stashed in a shelf in her basement), would bring me into the plush lap of luxury.

Well, I went to the library the other day with a small box of my most valuable cards, the ones in the hard plastic cases. I pulled out the dictionary-like 2007 Baseball price guide and I started looking up my cards. It appears, that without much fanfare or press, the economy of card country has collapsed and gone pretty much bankrupt. And no one thought to tell me.

Mom was right. She’s always right. And her wisdom stretches far beyond baseball cards:
“It’s only worth that much if someone is willing to pay you for it.” (and if your actually going to sell it)

It’s funny though, that we don’t stop this capitalist-ascribing-of-worth mentality once we stop collecting baseball cards. Adults still do it with everything. We talk about how much our TV or bike, coin collection or painting, coffee table or chair is worth, even when we have no intention of ever selling it. And not only do we spend our energy ascribing value to things based on their supposed monetary worth, but we love talking about how much we saved in our acquisition of said item. “I got this painting at a flea market for $10 and it’s worth $300.” It doesn’t even matter anymore if the painting is pretty, we let the $ sign dictate it’s value. We eat, sleep and breath capitalism.  In a search for a techy gadget, before, during and after the purchase, one of the main subjects that will come up is what a monetary bargain you got, not whether you needed the more expensive one or why you couldn’t share.

Thank you mom for the economics lesson, your right. From now on I’m going to stop talking about the monetary value of items when it is completely unnecessary in conversation. Instead, I’m going to start valuing things based on their function in society and the good the contribute to the world. 
My laptop still has value, but that’s because it allows me to blog, stay in touch with family, earn a side income, pay my bills, and more, not because I got a great bargain on it. My bike is also a valuable resource, but not because of how much it’s worth if I sell it (especially since I have no intention of selling it).  The guitar in my closet is not worth the sticker price I paid for it, but the good it contributes (which isn’t much, unless you value gathering dust).

What are your big ticket value items? And what high-capitalist-monetary-value items in your house are pretty much worthless?

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