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On the Need for a Moral Vocabulary

  • Writer: Bridgit Brown
    Bridgit Brown
  • Sep 26
  • 2 min read

Updated: Sep 27

Peniel Joseph signing a copy of Freedom Season.
Peniel Joseph signing a copy of Freedom Season.

I went to the Kennedy Library expecting to hear history. I left thinking about words.


At a talk with historian Peniel Joseph and Harvard professor Brandon Terry, the year 1963 came alive — the March on Washington, the murder of Medgar Evers, the bombing in Birmingham, Kennedy’s speech on civil rights. But what stayed with me was the idea of a “moral vocabulary.”


It means having the words to tell the truth about what is wrong, to name what repair looks like, and to remind each other of our shared responsibility.


In 1963:

  • President Kennedy didn’t just talk politics. He said civil rights was a moral issue and pointed out unfair gaps in housing, health, and schools.

  • James Baldwin, the writer, told America to grow up. He said we are all connected — Black, white, rich, poor — and that love tied to justice was the only way forward.

  • Dr. King said at the March on Washington, “We’ve come to cash a check.” He wasn’t asking for a favor. He was calling in a promise America had already made.


This kind of language is different from slogans or soundbites. It’s not meant to score points. It’s meant to move hearts and change lives.


Today, we live with constant noise — social media, headlines, arguments. But often the words don’t add up to real meaning. We need to bring back a moral vocabulary. That means don’t say “inequality.” Say, “our schools don’t have enough teachers, while other neighborhoods get more than they need.” If you point out a problem, also say what it would take to fix it. We can disagree without wishing each other away. Make love practical. Not just feelings, but real changes in budgets, housing, health, and safety that treat people with dignity.


That’s why I look forward to reading Peniel Joseph’s new book, Freedom Season: How 1963 Transformed America’s Civil Rights Revolution. The title alone carries urgency, and after hearing him speak, I know his pages will deepen my understanding of that pivotal year. If you’d like to read along, you can find the book here.


1963 shows us that when leaders and everyday people speak clearly and honestly — when they use a moral vocabulary— it opens the door for real change. Laws passed because the country was convinced, not just persuaded.


That’s the lesson I’m holding onto. Words are not just decoration. They’re tools for building. They’re the bones of democracy.


And if 1963 proved anything, it’s this: the right words, spoken at the right time, can help bend the future.

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