The Only Hope For The Black Community (What I Learned At Morehouse College: Part 1)

"I have the right to do anything," you say--but not everything is beneficial. "I have the right to do anything"--but I will not be mastered by anything. 1 Corinthians 6:12


We're free.
We have overcome.
God was on our side.
What now?


I asked myself these questions as a student of Morehouse College in Atlanta, Georgia.  Being there was the very best experience of my entire life because it exposed the lie of my elementary and highschool education.


I was always a "minority" in my classes.  There was A Group, B group, C Group, and D Group. A Group were the smartest kids. D the dumbest kids.  B the smart.  C the average.  There was one black girl in A Group.  I was in B Group with maybe two other blacks.  C was a mix, and D was almost all black. Throughout my life I had an unquestioned assumption that white students were smarter than blacks.  Looking back, there wasn't any proof of this at all, other than the groupings, and the assumption of "majority/minority," or normal/abnormal. But one day I had a revelation about this that began my journey to reality.


I was making up comic book heroes from my head and it hit me:  Even when I made up comic book characters, they were all white.  Do you see the craziness in this?  White people were in my head as make believe characters.  I had NEVER imagined, from my own head, a black character of any kind in my entire life.  I was in the 6th grade when I realized this.  Or when God showed it to me, because there was no reason it came to me right then.  But why wouldn't this be the case?  All the shows I watched at that time had only white people on them.  My favorite book was Peter Pan.  My imagination was white. 


Then I thought, "I can see that white people are beautiful, but can they see that black people are beautiful?" You have to remember, this was in the 80's.  A time when blacks with lighter complexions were seen as more attractive than darker blacks--and this was by black people themselves.  There was "good hair," meaning like white people's hair, and "nappy hair," meaning the kinky hair of some Africans.  All of these assumptions were mine from elementary school until Morehouse College. 


I found out about Morehouse from my highschool science teacher.  He took me to see the Morehouse College Glee Club, and I knew where I was supposed to be.  The discipline and masculine African power was everything I was looking for.  I knew it. I was going to be a Morehouse Man.


I sat in King's Chapel in darkness and silence.  Then "The Brothers" walked on the stage like Princes. Serious.  Focused.  Surrounding the freshmen class on all four sides were upper classmen, all in suits, serious and focused.  One of the brothers on the stage took the podium and the microphone:

Speaker: "You have arrived."

Wall of Brothers: "Welcome to the House."

Speaker:  "Many are called but few are chosen."

Wall of Brothers: "Welcome to the House."

Speaker:  "You are not here to play, to dream, or to drift."

Wall of Brothers: "Welcome to the House."

Speaker:  "You have hard work to do, and heavy loads to lift."

Wall of Brothers:  "Welcome to the House."



It was the most impressive thing I had ever seen in my life. Ever.  I wanted to be like them.  But the real revelation came much later, the one that destroyed everything I'd experienced in my life so far as a Black man. (click HERE for part 2)