The sham continues: MLK Day, the Trump agenda, and the war against justice

In 2021, I called out the superficial nature of many Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. Day celebrations, where sanitized service projects and staged photo-ops replaced a serious reckoning with the radical vision of justice, equity and inclusion that King lived and died for.
Monday as we marked another MLK Day, the circumstances are even grimmer. In Tennessee and across the country, anti-DEI legislation, state overreach in Black communities, and the resurgence of far-right extremism have made a mockery of the justice King preached. Adding insult to injury, this year, Donald Trump — whose rhetoric and policies are antithetical to King’s legacy — was inaugurated as president for a second time on the very day we claim to honor King.
King’s radical dream vs. Trump’s authoritarian nightmare
This convergence — a Trump inauguration on MLK Day — highlights the sharp and undeniable contrast in visions for our country. On one hand, King’s legacy is rooted in radical love, courageous justice, and a relentless pursuit of equity and liberation for the oppressed. On the other, Trump’s policies embody division, exclusion and authoritarianism, built on a foundation of white supremacy and economic exploitation.
And yet, we know the routine. Those who perpetuate these systems of injustice cynically invoked King’s name while rebuking his nature. They cherry-picked his “I Have a Dream” speech while legislating against everything he fought for. They spoke of unity while driving deeper wedges into the heart of this nation. King was not a dreamer lost in abstraction — he was a prophetic disruptor, a moral revolutionary who called for the tearing down of systems of oppression.
Tennessee: A battleground for justice
Nowhere is this hypocrisy more evident than in Tennessee. Our state has become a testing ground for anti-DEI (diversity, equity and inclusion) legislation, banning the teaching of critical race theory — an academic field focusing on the systemic connections between race and the legal system and not taught in Tennessee K-12 schools — defunding inclusive education programs, and dismantling equity initiatives at every turn. These efforts are not accidental; they are deliberate attempts to whitewash history, silence marginalized voices, and maintain systems of inequality.
This war on equity is coupled with state overreach in cities like Memphis and counties like Shelby, where predominantly Black communities face the brunt of oppressive policies, voter suppression and the defunding of public services.
In the last few years, the Tennessee legislature has overturned a measure from Memphis City Council to ban the kind of traffic stop that led to the death of Tyre Nichols at the hands of Memphis police; attempted to strip tax revenue from Memphis over a city referendum intended to regulate gun use and heighten safety; and to dissolve police oversight boards, relegating Memphis’ CLERB to a merely advisory body and stripping it of investigative power.
Tennessee’s leadership continues to legislate against the very communities King sought to liberate. This is not governance — it’s modern-day Jim Crow dressed in the clothing of bureaucracy.
The sham of superficial service
Meanwhile, the broader public clings to feel-good “days of service” that fail to confront the structural injustices King spent his life fighting. Let me say this plainly: service without justice is not enough. A photo-op at a soup kitchen or a beautification project for a public park will not dismantle systemic racism, economic exploitation, or state-sanctioned violence.
The sham continues because it is safe. It allows people to feel good about themselves without risking anything. But honoring King should make us uncomfortable. It should challenge us to examine our complicity in systems of oppression and move us to bold action. King’s dream was not sanitized or superficial — it was radical, unapologetic and rooted in the liberation of the oppressed.
A prophetic call
We are reminded that Trump’s politics aren’t just a political ideology — they constitute a spiritual crisis. It is a heresy that elevates greed, power, and exclusion over love, justice, and inclusion. They are a theological affront to the very nature of God’s justice, which calls us to liberate the captive, care for the oppressed, and dismantle systems of exploitation.

To honor King means rejecting these practices. It means refusing to be gaslit by those who invoke King’s words while working to gut his legacy. It means standing boldly in the face of systemic evil and proclaiming, as King did, that “justice too long delayed is justice denied.”
Will we honor King or insult his legacy?
This year, as Trump took the oath of office, the contrast between King’s dream and America’s reality will be laid bare. But we still have a choice. Will we continue to insult King’s memory with shallow gestures, or will we embrace the transformative power of his prophetic call?
Honoring King demands more than words. It’s fair to suggest King would encourage fighting anti-DEI legislation, dismantling systemic racism, and holding accountable those who legislate against equity and justice. Honoring King requires courage, discomfort, and a relentless commitment to liberation.
King’s dream was never about comfortable unity; it was about the power of God working through the people to bring justice to the oppressed, inclusion to the marginalized, and freedom to the captive. Let us honor him by fighting for the world he envisioned, even when it costs us. Especially when it costs us.
