Coretta Scott King

Hello, my name is Coretta Scott King, and I want to share my story with you. I was born on April 27th, 1927, in a small town called Heiberger, Alabama. Growing up on my family's farm, I learned the importance of hard work and getting a good education. Even as a little girl, I saw that the world wasn’t fair for everyone. Because I was Black, there were separate, often worse, schools and rules for people who looked like me. This was called segregation, and it never felt right to me. But I also had a great love for music, and my voice became a way for me to dream of a better world.

My parents believed education was the key to a better future, so I studied hard. In 1945, I traveled far from home to attend Antioch College in Ohio. It was there that I joined groups like the NAACP and began to use my voice to speak out against unfairness. After college, my love for singing took me to Boston in 1951, where I studied to become a concert singer at the New England Conservatory of Music. I was learning to make my voice powerful, not just in song, but also in the fight for justice.

While I was in Boston, a friend introduced me to a young man who was also studying there. His name was Martin Luther King Jr. We first met in 1952, and I quickly realized he shared my dreams for a more equal and peaceful world. We fell in love and were married on June 18th, 1953. I knew that our lives together would be about more than just our family; we were partners in a great mission. In 1954, we moved to Montgomery, Alabama, where Martin became a pastor, and our journey together truly began.

Our life in Montgomery soon became the center of the Civil Rights Movement. It started with the Montgomery Bus Boycott in 1955, a protest to end segregation on city buses. While raising our four wonderful children—Yolanda, Martin III, Dexter, and Bernice—I worked right alongside my husband. I answered phone calls, gave speeches, and organized 'Freedom Concerts,' where I would sing to raise money and spirits for the movement. It wasn't always easy. Some people were very angry about our work, and our home was even bombed in 1956. But we refused to let fear stop us from fighting for what was right.

In 1968, a terrible thing happened, and my dear husband Martin was taken from us. My heart was broken, but I knew his dream of peace and equality could not end. I had to be strong for my children and for the millions of people who believed in our cause. Just a few days later, I led a march in Memphis, Tennessee, to show the world that the work would continue. That same year, I founded The King Center for Nonviolent Social Change in Atlanta to teach people about my husband's ideas and inspire them to solve problems without violence.

I spent the rest of my life making sure my husband's work was never forgotten. One of my proudest moments was in 1983, when his birthday officially became a national holiday in the United States. I traveled the world, speaking out for the rights of all people, from ending apartheid in South Africa to advocating for women and children everywhere. I lived to be 78 years old. Today, people remember me not just as Martin’s wife, but as a leader in my own right, who dedicated her life to building a more just and peaceful world for everyone.