December 15, 2023
President Morehead, thank you for inviting me to speak to the class of 2023. It is an honor for me to be here, standing before you. It is especially gratifying because my youngest granddaughter Haley Savannah Rose is a member of this class.
Let me be among the first to congratulate all of you on your achievement – that of graduating from this wonderful university. You are joining an extended family of proud Georgia graduates – and that pride will grow as you age. I am proud of this university. It has come a long way from when I first arrived as a freshman in 1962. I had to come to Athens for a personal interview and it was with the administrator who had denied admission to Hamilton Hunter and Charlayne Hunter Gault. I had just turned 16 and just gotten my driver’s license so my Dad drove me here. When we walked into his office he did not shake our hands, he did not ask us to sit down. Rather he said “Why do you want to come here because we don’t want you here.” I said “That’s why I want to come here.” The interview went downhill from there and when he used the “N” word, my father pulled me out of the chair and we left to go back to Atlanta. Dad said “That didn’t go well.” You can imagine our surprise when a month later we got an envelope with a red and black banner than “Official Acceptance: The University of Georgia”. The University had asserted in court that they could not guarantee the safety of black students. When we got to Reed hall and found only one bed in my room. Going back to the car, Mother was crying and said “get in this car. You are not going back in there.” My Dad said that if I got in the car, he would borrow the money to send me to Purdue where my brother was a junior. I said I would stay here and if it didn’t work out I would transfer. My father told me that I would not have any friends. But at our first dorm meeting, it was back of the bus days and I wouldn’t sit in the back of the room. When I sat down, everyone got up and moved. The three boys directly in front turned around and said they didn’t know that Negroes were in this class. I said there was at least one. Then they asked if they could sit with me. They became steadfast friends even though they were constantly harassed.
Life in Reed Hall was an adventure. My windows in Reed Hall were broken so often that a window crew came by every morning. Lighter fluid was squirted under the door and set on fire three times. Firecrackers were put into the slats in the door. The slats were replaced with a solid block of wood and obscenities were scrawled on it daily. The keyhole to my room was always stuffed with gum or other materials. My bathroom was sabotaged – once. They had written obscenities in soap on all the mirrors, turn on the water in the sinks and showers and removed the knobs, and stuffed toilet paper down each commode. I went down the hall to their bathroom. I washed my hands in each wash basin. I ran through all the showers. I sat on every commode and tried to use every urinal. No one messed with my bathroom after that. The first time I went to the bookstore, they would not sell me a book. I called Dean Tate who had given us his phone numbers telling us to call him if we encountered any difficulties on campus. They sold me my books. The first time I went swimming in the university’s pool they kicked everyone out and drained it. I went back the next day. Again I called Dean Tate and was able to go swimming. Although I got 5 band scholarships out of high school I auditioned for the “Dixie” Redcoat Marching Band and was told by the band director that while I was talented I could not be in “his” band. Dr. Blackwell Diallo was at that time a music major and she was also not allowed to be in “his” band. The great Hamilton Holmes sat me down and said “Go slow. This is not your usual college experience.” I ignored his advice. I was the only one of us to go to the football games where I was often the only black in the stadium not carrying a broom or a mop. It was like a Ku Klux Klan rally with all the confederate flags. After the national anthem, the band played Dixie and I sat down. Debris and curses rained down upon me but I refused to stand. Dean Tate seemingly materialized out of nowhere grabbing student ID cards. Suddenly it got quiet. The same thing happened at the second game. At the third game, Dean Tate actually followed me into the stadium. I could sit in peace. When my friends were with me at the games they also sat when the band played Dixie.
During my freshman year no one sat on the same row with me in class. Most- but not all – professors welcomed my being in their class. Am I bitter? No. Well maybe a wee bit because of the band. I would have looked good wearing that red jacket. But to quote Stevie Wonder “You can always look at the negative but you should always live in the positive So I try everyday to live that way.” I hope you do that as well. The point that all of us who came here focused on our objectives and shut out all the noise. My parents said to not let others discourage you and to ignore those who tried. They said find your limits and when you do to find someone who could help you push pass them. I embraced that here at Georgia and during my career. At the end of my freshman year, I got a letter inviting me into the honors program. My parents took that letter, framed it and hung it on the wall.
My parents never knew what I was going through and didn’t find out until much later when they read Calvin Trillin’s “An Education in Georgia.” Mother said “Why didn’t you tell me?” I said that I would have gotten no sympathy from Dad and I would have worried her to death. I knew that I did the right thing because at my graduation she said that she could finally get a good night’s sleep. But please don’t misunderstand me. I was never scared. It was an adventure and I reveled in finding ways to confront adversity. Someone asked me what did I do when firecrackers went off at 2 o’clock in the morning. I said that I went back to sleep. I also moved my bed away from the window. My first two years were a challenge but I defy anyone having a better last two years than what I had here.
The university has come a long way, not just racially but also academically. My degree is more valuable because of what this university has accomplished over these 60 years. The true purpose of a university is to help you learn how to learn, to think critically, to investigate, to gather and process information in order to make more rational informed decisions. Conclusions can differ because information more times than not yields contradictory results and your truth is guided in large part by what you cherish and what you believe. But just because your conclusions might differ from others it does not mean you can claim something called “truth” unless you explore the truth value of contrary evidence. Don’t be dogmatic. I say “prove me wrong and I’ll adopt your position.” You see the world is made up of three types: the 2 percent who make things happen, the 8 percent who know what’s happening and the 90 percent who haven’t a clue as to what’s happening. The university and its education cannot put you into the 2 percent but it can put you into the 8 percent provided you are not intellectually lazy. Unfortunately even with information being so readily available too many of us are intellectually lazy and will be relegated to the 90 percent. If you are intellectually curious and hard working you may get to the 2 percent. Work hard. To paraphrase Thomas Edison: Success is one percent inspiration and 99 percent perspiration. Life is a challenge. Look around you. Look at your extended family. Look at your brothers and sisters. Alma mater means “foster mother”. Alumni means foster children. You about to join my extended family and I hope you understand when I say that I do not care what you look like. I don’t care if you are black, white, brown, red, yellow or shades in between. What I do care about is your character, your desire to get better, your desire to make a difference and your humanity. Go forth. Go make us proud and Go Dawgs.