Hello and welcome back to another of what I am hoping will be a great semester at Longwood University! This semester, The Rotunda's Black Column will look a little different. During my time at Longwood, I have always wanted to write and have my ideas published. After talking to the lovely Jessica Stone, she agreed to allow me to help co-write this column that she has done such an excellent job with. It is my hope that these articles and ideas will challenge your thoughts, educate you on various issues and entertain you as well. So with that being said, I would like to move on and give you all a little something about me as an introductory piece.
For as long as I can remember, I have always considered myself a very ambitious person. I get it naturally from my family and that is how my mother has raised me. She always taught me to be ambitious, hard working and responsible, but now as I am getting older I feel like I've added another reason to why I work so hard. In the past few years at this university, I have had many opportunities to serve my campus, get involved, explore my potential and portray a positive image of a black male (something I am very proud of). I have met many great people, traveled, grown as an individual and hopefully helped to foster growth within others.
At the end of December, my cousin was killed. We probably will not know who did it, why and all the other many questions any family would ask themselves at a time like this. This was that cousin that you looked up to when you were younger, the person who looked out for you, walked you home and the one you grew up with. On the seventh of this month my grandmother passed. She would have been 98 years old on Jan. 11.
I am not saying any of this for attention or sympathy, but to hopefully inspire you by the end of this article. Between the time of the passing of my cousin and my grandmother, I can vividly remember a conversation that I had with my uncle in his home during break. My Uncle Bill has played a very significant part in who I have come to be in recent years. While he and I were talking, I shared with him what I was involved in on campus, the famous people I have met and my plans after graduation.
I mentioned all of that to say this. It was during this time that a light bulb went off. It was during this conversation that I saw how proud he was of me. I saw that me walking across the stage with my cap and gown means more to him than I would ever know. I realized that all these people (my uncle, cousin, grandmother and others) were/are living vicariously through me.
Many of my family and church members (who have also been supportive of me) would have loved to be in the position that I'm in right now. They would give anything to be on a college campus, running things and taking advantage of opportunities they never got a chance to have. These roadblocks could have come in the form of financial issues, discrimination (Jim Crow) or the unfortunate process of falling into the "black student statistic." I have realized that if not for anything else, I need to work even harder than I ever have been for them. They believe in me and support me too much for me to let them down by not trying the best I can in the classroom or not using all of my talents to pave the way for a younger generation to come and do bigger and better things.
Talking to my uncle — who never got a chance to go to college — a few weeks ago, I could see how proud he was when we spoke about life after. I see how proud I make my mother, who attended and graduated from Virginia Tech, and, in his own way, my father who left college to pursue other career options. I acknowledge my other cousins my age who haven't been to college and even some of my church members who are all pushing for me to get that degree and take over the world. All of these people along with some professors, staff, faculty and friends I have met over the years have influenced this gaining a sense of self moment.
At my grandmother's funeral in Baltimore, I had family from all over the country asking me about what I was doing with my time at school. The amazing thing to me was that each and every one of them told me not to stop what I am doing and to keep going. I can't let them down. I refuse to see that look in their eyes dwindle.
Because of some situations I have doubted my hard work and myself, but I now see that none of it has gone to vain. This is not just for my personal benefit or to set me up for my future, but also for the people who died, protested and fought for me and other African-American students to go to institutions of higher learning. Also, I do this for my family who wished they could have been here, for the people who pushed me all these years.
What I want you to take away from all of this would hopefully be that you see we are not here just for us. We are living the lives that past generations only dreamed about, and we cannot take this chance for granted. Whether we know it or not, all of us are representing something bigger than ourselves. As we go into this semester, I hope that you keep that thought relevant.
