My Remarks to The Boston College Caribbean Culture Club
Good evening.
It is an honor to be here with you all tonight. I remember listening to Boston
College alum Steve Pemberton speak during Black Family Weekend’s Black
Excellence Gala. In his speech he described how Boston College became his home
while he was a student. I know exactly what he meant. From the first day I
stepped onto campus as a high school junior in 2001 I instantly felt a
connection. During my four years here I made it my home. With that said I want to thank you all for
inviting me back home tonight. I don’t know how it is in your homes, but in
mine things are said that make you laugh, make you cry, make you think and
challenge your beliefs. I hope that my homecoming will accomplish that as well.
If my name
looks familiar to many of you that’s because I am the alum who wrote in to The
Heights a few weeks ago. One of the students on campus had deep reservations
about the way that The Heights covered Ta-Nehisi Coates on campus talk. I have
been a fan of Coates writing for quite a while. He has helped refine my view on
race and privilege. Historically The Heights has had a mixed reputation
reporting on race related issues. This time I was impressed with the contextual
framework that the reporters used in writing the review. As I read the dissenting
letter, details of which I won't repeat tonight, I was shocked but not
surprised. I knew that a large segment of the student body was going to be
upset by the misguided, offensive and historically naive viewpoint of the
writer. I did what I normally do in those situations. I started writing. The
support that I received from alumni who read my words was tremendous. But the
people that I wrote for were the current students. I hope that the words that I
sent helped speak your truth. If it made things a little bit easier then I have
done my job.
I submit to you
this evening that the relationship that AHANA people who are affiliated with
Boston College have with the institution is very similar to the relationship
that AHANA people have with the United States of America. I love Boston
College. Nothing makes me more proud than hearing the band play of our fight
song while watching a sporting event. Nothing makes me swell with pride more
than when I see people wearing Boston College gear. Nothing excites me more
than talking about how impactful this university has been to my personal and
professional development. I have friends that will last until I leave this
earth because I made the best decision of my life in 2002 to become a Boston
College Eagle. But as proud as I am, and continue to be of this institution, I cannot
ignore the issues that make Boston College sometimes a difficult place to be
at. I love Boston College so much that I will continue to critique it. Loving
criticism has been the backbone of political and social change and we are
seeing the impact of this approach more each day.
I love America.
I firmly believe that the opportunities that I have had would not be possible
in any other country in the world. A stirring rendition of The Star Spangled Banner
gets me every time. Nothing warms my heart more than knowing that the First
Family that occupies the White House finally looks like many of the families I
know. But as proud as I am to be Caribbean-American, and I am in equal parts
both, I must also admit that I am not always proud of the history and present
conditions that exist in America. I make the assertion to you that Boston
College is a microcosm of America. Figuring out how to make it at as an AHANA
person at this university has helped me learn how to navigate being an AHANA
person in America after I left.
My family hails
from the beautiful islands of Trinidad and Tobago and Grenada on my father’s
side and St. Lucia on my mother’s. I consider this a made in America
combination. My parents, both native Brooklynites were high school sweethearts.
I was born, raised and currently reside in the Flatbush section of Brooklyn.
Brooklyn has long been considered by many to have the largest Caribbean
community in the United States. On any given morning traditional foods can be
smelled and music from every island can be heard pulsating through my
neighborhood. Even with current changes as a result of gentrification there is
still something uniquely Caribbean about Brooklyn. It is a universal location
that ties all Caribbean people together.
The first ten
years of my life I lived at my paternal grandparents house on the weekends.
During the week I attended a gifted program at a segregated public school and
lived with my mother, grandmother and great grandmother in a housing project.
The ironic thing about that was that I didn't know it was a housing project
until I moved out. Many people have deep stereotypes about the projects. All I
knew was that I had a roof over my head and a community of people just trying
to make it surrounded me. Was there violence? Absolutely. But it was also the
mid 80s and early 90s. Violence in New York was rampant with murders topping
2245 in 1990 compared to last year’s 328. The housing project that I lived in
helped shape my life and I am proud that I lived there.
Beginning when
I was 11, I permanently moved into my grandparents’ house. I was also selected
to be a part of the prestigious Prep For Prep program and received a
scholarship to attend a progressive private school in Greenwich Village. When I
say progressive I really mean it. Not only was my school’s motto “A Leader in
Progressive Education since 1921” but my school was one of the first in America
founded by an openly gay woman as well as one of the first private schools in
New York City to have black students. Political activist, scholar and author
Angela Davis is even an alum. Every morning I would wake up in my working class
neighborhood and take the train to a school that was directly across the street
from multi million dollar brownstones and a school where some of the most
influential and talented New Yorkers sent their children. It was during this
time that I began examining the concept of privilege, class, race, sexual
orientation and overall equality. By the time I graduated high school I was
irrevocably changed by my experiences and knew that I wanted to dedicate a
portion of my life to addressing issues of diversity while also challenging
institutions to do the same.
My paternal
grandmother instilled in me a deep pride and belief in my Caribbean heritage. I
am the oldest of seven, five boys and two girls. As soon as I could walk my
grandmother would take me to the West Indian American Day Parade on Eastern
Parkway, or as Caribbean people call it, Carnival. To most Americans the first
Monday in September is a day to celebrate the end of summer and pay homage to
the labor force. To Caribbean people Labor Day is a time to celebrate our
culture. Taking us to the parade was my grandmother’s way of saying, this is
our heritage, and this is our pride. Never forget it. Every Labor Day I make it
a duty to attend a Caribbean event in Brooklyn. I do it in her honor and fully
believe that she looks down on me, proudly knowing that her example lives on in
her grandkids and that we are passing it down to my nieces and nephews.
My entire life
has been about cultures clashing. I love curry just as much as I love fried
chicken. Biggie Smalls was the soundtrack of my youth just as much as Beres
Hammond and Machel Montano. On one hand I went to this amazing school but on
the other hand I lived in a fairly conservative Caribbean neighborhood.
Respectability politics is a big deal in our culture. Members of my community
couldn’t comprehend how I went to a school where I was allowed to call teachers by their first name. They couldn’t understand how I could have gay
friends or be taught the history of the gay rights movement in American History
class. They expected kids to be quiet and obedient. I was none of those things.
At school I had to expose people to the food, music and history that made
Caribbean culture so amazing while learning about foreign concepts such as Bat
Mitzvahs, vacation houses and The Beatles. The whole thing was challenging to
me. I wanted to be accepted at home and at school. My family helped me figure
it all out. They would routinely tell people that if they had a problem with my
education that they can gladly pay for me to go to another school. And if they
weren’t willing to do that then they could keep their opinions to themselves.
Needless to say no one wrote a check. The support I had at home made me much
more confident at school. It wasn’t always perfect but I was able to manage a
lot better. Support systems are vital.
So how does a
Caribbean-American boy from Brooklyn who attended a progressive private school
end up at Boston College? And what was my experience like? I had the
opportunity to see BC on an overnight visit during the spring of my junior year
in high school. I fell in love with the beauty of the campus and passion that
the students had. I was especially impressed with how connected AHANA students
were. There seemed to be a true community of people who cared for and about
each other. Assistant Director of Undergraduate Admissions, Howard Singer,
visited my high school during my senior year and remembered meeting me in the
spring. I knew that I had to apply. September 11th occurred on my third day of
senior year. I heard the planes pierce through the air and watched the
buildings collapse. My school was less than a mile away from the Twin Towers. I
do not talk about that day publicly because over fourteen years later it seems
like yesterday. The pain has never left me and I am sure that it never will. It
was clear to me that for my own sanity I needed to leave NYC for college. The
first acceptance letter that I received was from BC. In it was a handwritten
note from Howard Singer, congratulating me on my hard work and welcoming me to
the class of 2006. How could I not attend?
As soon as I
arrived on campus as a freshman I jumped right in. The independence that I felt
was refreshing. This was the first time in my life that I didn’t have my six
younger siblings and family to answer to. I took full advantage of this. Alums
who attended BC with me knew that whether it was a party or whether it was a
social justice issue I was never far behind. What I quickly realized was that I
needed to make this place my own. The only way that I could do that was by
becoming politically and socially active, especially around issues of race and
diversity on campus. The very first organization that I joined was the
Caribbean Culture Club as a freshman representative. The older members of the
board took me in and helped me figure out how to really be a Caribbean Boston College
student. What I loved the most was the chance to connect with students who were
passionate about Caribbean culture, even if they weren’t Caribbean themselves.
I ended up serving as treasurer, president and student advisor because the club
meant so much to me. At the same time I discovered other clubs and
organizations that nurtured me in other ways. The Voices of Imani became my
spiritual and musical home and being a first tenor was a great joy. I firmly
believe that had it not been for Voices, I would not have made it through
Boston College. I rediscovered God and spirituality through the choir and used
that to push me through some challenging times. And there were many.
I remember
returning to school from break a few times, and while trying to swipe into my
dorm, I realized that I could not get in. The reason was because I had an
outstanding balance on my account. Remember when I mentioned that AHANA
community and how we picked each other up? I realized the importance of it when
I had to ask friends to swipe me in. But the worse part was asking them to
swipe me at the cafeteria until my account was settled. Yep you heard right. I
remember literally asking people to essentially feed me. I know someone out
here can give a similar testimony. At the end of the day I knew that I could
depend on my people to hold me up and I gladly returned the favor when they
needed it.
I would like to
look at my journey at Boston College through the lens of my presidency of CCC.
2004 was a uniquely momentous year. Facebook and Gmail debuted. Boston College
was in its last year in the Big East conference. Massachusetts became the first
state to legalize same sex marriage. A political unknown named Barack Obama
delivered a speech a few miles from here that would be the building block to
his historic presidency. Everything I just mentioned occurred all in one year.
With all of that swirling around I was elected president as a junior. I will
let you in on a secret that no one knows until today. I did not want to be
president that year. My goal was to be president my senior year. Unfortunately
the other board member who would have vied for the presidency was on her way to
study in Brazil. I guess this was God's way of giving me a challenge. He never
gives us more than we can bare.
My focus as
president was to change our reputation as the party organization. Please
believe we took our partying seriously. At one event people broke into the RAT
through a loading dock. We collaborated with five other colleges and packed a
downtown nightclub on a Thursday, complete with an internationally known
dancehall DJ from Miami. We would even charter a bus to Montreal every November
for a Caribbean conference that was nothing more than an all weekend cultural
party. So yes our reputation was earned.
But I wanted
more from us. We ended up collaborating with other clubs on campus to host the
off Broadway show “Platanos and Collard Greens”. Collaborating with other
groups was vital to our success. It allowed us to showcase solidarity among
groups and allowed our platform to be way bigger. Our similarities were more
than our differences. I learned that there is power in creating coalitions
amongst those groups.
During the presidential election cycle we were also one of the first intercultural organizations to
publicly request that our members vote on Election Day 2004. Many people asked
me why did I push for a more political agenda. Caribbean culture and history is
intrinsically political. Whether you are from Trinidad and Tobago and have
learned about the large-scale struggle for civil rights in the 1970s, or you
are from the Spanish-speaking island of The Dominican Republic with its long
history of dictatorship by El Jefe, Rafael Trujillo. Whether you are from the
Creole speaking island of Haiti, and its revolution led by Toussaint
L’Ouverture, our culture is political. I was glad that I was able to move us to
focus on political activism while still maintaining our reputation as a fun
organization.
During the year
that I was president, Boston College was undergoing its own political
revolution. BC had a reputation as an unwelcoming place to LGBT students and
faculty. It did not help that the statement of non-discrimination did not
include sexual orientation, even when other Catholic universities did. To some
this meant that BC condoned discrimination of LGBT people. That year BC decided
to put a referendum up for vote during UGBC elections asking students if the
non-discrimination clause should be changed. Campus was definitely in its
feelings on both sides. What culminated was a march attended by over 1000
students that began on campus and extended to Comm Ave. At the end of the
voting period over 70% of students who cast their ballot supported changing the
policy.
This was a
really challenging time for me. Caribbean people have long held very
conservative views as it came to sexual orientation. Personally I have always
felt that I had no right to withhold freedom to any group of people. I mean
let's be completely honest. In the grand scheme of things black men kind of
just got their freedom relatively recently. And it's a tenuous freedom at best.
Who was I as a cisgendered, straight black man to say that LGBT people shouldn't
have rights? But I wasn’t just representing myself. How could I balance the
views of many of my constituents and still remain true to my own core belief? I
decided that I would do what I felt was right and deal with any backlash later
on. On the day of the march I ran into the president of ASO, Chikaelo Ibeabuchi
who now serves as Assistant District Attorney in Manhattan and we decided on
the spot to march together. We didn’t think of it as a big political statement.
We were really great friends. But looking back on it it was. Here we were two
AHANA leaders, representing large constituencies who may not support us
marching. But we did it anyway. I am glad that I was on the right side of
history that fateful day.
May 22, 2006, graduation day, was one of the most emotionally charged days of my life. Senior Week was all
that I could imagine. There were memories made and some that I’d rather forget.
We partied till the sun came up. We danced on mod tables. And we drank like it
was marathon Monday for a week straight.
But nothing beats the morning when the entire senior class watched the
sun rise over the parking garage. It’s a quintessential Boston College right of
passage. I hugged and cried with my friends, as we all knew that the work, long
nights, battles with administration and good times were over. As I said my
goodbyes to them and this campus I knew that life would never be the same.
After I left
Boston College I entered the field of education. I have had the chance to work
at independent schools, charter schools, non-profit and other community based
organizations. Along every step of the way I took the lessons that I learned at
BC with me. Here’s another secret. The working world isn’t much different than
college. You will experience everything that you have experienced here in your
professional life. Learn the lessons now so that you will be prepared for them
later.
I want to leave
you all with three themes to think about. Firstly view your education as a
revolutionary act. Schools such as Boston College were not designed with people
like us in mind. Boston College for most of its history was an all-male,
all-white college. People came here and fought so that you all could be here.
It is your duty to continue that fight so that the journey will be better for
you but more importantly for people coming behind you. It is never too early to
begin thinking about what your legacy will be after leaving the hallowed halls
of Chestnut Hill. Boston College believes in the Ignatian ideal of “Setting the
world aflame.” Please make that your legacy. Let that be your saving grace.
Secondly do not
fit in when God demands that you stand out. I had the privilege and honor of
working in the admissions office for four years while I was a student. Boston
College does not accept students, especially AHANA ones who merely fit in. Too
often many students arrive to college and feel like they have made it. Let me
be blunt with you all. You have not made it. Your journey and life’s work is
just beginning. Complacency in the face of adversity leaves everyone poorer.
Take a stand and leave here knowing you were part of change, even if it was
incremental.
And lastly
embrace being a Boston College student. I have had the chance to see all types
of academic institutions in my life. There is nothing like being a Boston
College Eagle. This place is unique. The motto of Ever to Excel and the mission
of creating men and women for others are real. While it may not always be
perfect, this place is yours. Do not leave here feeling as if you were not full-fledged
members of this university. If you do then you are wasting time, effort and a
lot of money. Furthermore if you are here and remain silent on issues that
affect this community as a whole and people that look like you in particular
then what did you come to Boston College for? 75% of your time is spent outside
of the classroom. Please invest some of that time in making this university the
best it can be. Because then and only then can you walk across that stage on
graduation day and say that you've done all that you can.
Ladies and
gentlemen we are gathered here at a time when there is deep political and
social upheaval on college campuses not seen in this country since the 1960s.
Marginalized groups of students are taking bold steps to publicly question the
actions of schools and administrations. Last week students at Yale, a bastion
of bucolic beauty asked their university for answers. This week we have seen
the power of students and administrators standing up for each other in Missouri
and making history. Over the last year students at Harvard University have
publicly told their college that I Am Harvard. And Boston College students have
pushed the envelope here in acts of public protest as well. I believe that
there is a common thread that connects the struggles of students in New Haven,
Cambridge and Missouri to you all here at Boston College. It is the same thread
that connects people protesting in the streets of cities around the world
screaming black lives matter and I can't breathe. It is the same thread that
throughout American history has led us to the streets screaming I Am Somebody
as we sang we shall overcome while the hoses and the German shepherds tore at our
flesh but never quieted our steady resolute voices. It is the same thread
saying on one hand that we support the work and efforts of law enforcement but
we will not support flagrant abuse of that power especially in our communities.
Yes Black Lives Matter because historically they have only seemed to matter
when we are financially beneficial. You as Boston College students must not sit
idly by as your fellow peers at this university and in the streets beg for
recognition. Do not sit in the comfort of the Boston College bubble. People
fought so you could be in that bubble. What will you fight for?
In conclusion I
want to urge you all to reach out to members of the faculty and staff. The long
lasting relationships that I forged while a student have stood the test of
time, even now as I get ready to celebrate my ten-year reunion. There are people
here who believe in you and who want to see you succeed both as students and as
leaders. Dan Bunch, Joanna Maynard, Inez Maturana Sendoya, Paul Bonitto, John
Mahoney, Howard Singer, Richard Paul, Christopher Darcy and David Altenor are
just a few of the people that, have enriched my life and continue to do so
after all these years. Connect with them and others. As a result your
experience and your lives will be enriched.
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