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| Could I look more goofy? |
I marvel at people who can tell you the exact date that a
past event occurred. I’m not good at recollecting dates or the details of the
past. True, I can see an event as if it’s happening right now, but when it comes
to the when I’ve got to look at
someone’s calendar, phone a friend or get help from the audience.
Still, I know the importance of looking back. I tell folks
that every car has a rearview mirror and in order for you to drive forward, from time to time, you
have to take a glance back.
Yesterday, I had the chance to do that. While in
Jacksonville, I stopped by my alma mater, Jacksonville,
University. It was a just a quick visit with my daughter, but within that
time I was flooded with memories of the past and a flash of just how far I’ve
come.
I remembered when I first got there, afraid and alone
wondering if I’d fit in. I’d come from an all-black high school; the last
graduating class before desegregation in Wilmington, Delaware to the lily white
campus of JU. The campus president, Fran Kinne was progressive and practical;
she was going to change the world, one student at a time.
I told my daughter about her reaction to students who had
put up signs demanding that Iranian students go home. President Kinne held an
assembly and announced that the signs should be gone immediately and any student
who did not comply or who participated, perpetrated or stood by and watched an
act of aggression in any way to another student because they were different
from them would be the one who went home.
We walked into the Fine Arts building and in my mind, I
could smell the fried chicken that my roommate, Rhonda Williams' family had
prepared for the reception after her classical recital. The professors remarked
that it was the first time in the history of the music department that the
recital hall was standing room only. Rhonda performed arias and spirituals and the
eloquence and power of her performance brought us all to tears.
When I went into the Gooding Building, where all of the behavioral
science classes were held, I felt like a kid again. I raced up the flight of
steps without an ache or strain and forgot that I was 51 not 17. The thrill of
seeing the name of an old professor on the board excited me beyond reason.
Dr. Liz Winstead was the professor who told me that I should
go on to graduate school and although I didn’t know what it was, I told her that I
would; and I did. I knocked on her office door hoping, but she wasn’t in. I vowed to come back to see her and to run
those magical stairs.
I live only a few hours from the Jacksonville University,
but I hadn’t been back. Life gets in our
way. But this week, think of a place
that holds fond memories, plan a trip and then take it.
Allow your past to renew
your present. Let it remind you of how far you've come.
We all need a quick look in our rearview mirror, but remember, the
windshield is so much bigger.
Be you, see well, be present.
Bertice Berry, PhD.
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