I have spent almost four years of my life on Brown’s campus learning both what I am and what I am not. My greatest challenges have come from those who have questioned the tenets on which I have built my life and how I imagined I would live it. I’ll take a leap here and venture to say that there are many of us who imagined, that in some way, we would one day, change the world in which we found ourselves. As Dr. Charles Finch of Morehouse School of Medicine says, “No nation, no race can face the future unless it knows what it is capable of. This is the function of history.” Our history is our greatest example of where we have been and of the path on which we must continue. We at Brown must use this history as a guiding light, as inspiration.

Upon reflection, one of my worst memories at Brown was my freshmen year in Hard Choices. One of my white male classmates pointed out that none of the black students in the class were actively taking part in the discussion. The seven or eight of us who sat on the top right side of the classroom felt all eyes swivel towards us expecting, anticipating some explanation for our silence. What I really wanted to say was, “Now do you really think that if we haven’t been speaking up to this point that we are going to start now?” “Obviously it’s your teaching style that is preventing black students from speaking up.” “There is something about this classroom atmosphere that as a black woman I cannot change or challenge that is keeping us quiet.” But instead I sat quietly as did those who were around me.

Some of my greatest memories have been examples of what the African American community here has centered itself around. There are those amongst us who demanded that we hold ourselves to a higher standard as a black community simply because that was where we should be. There were those who refused to sit quietly by as they tried to eliminate the Minority Peer Counseling program. There were those who fought for need blind admissions. There were those who demanded that the Brown Daily Herald be held responsible to all members of the Brown community. There were those who rallied around Ebony Thompson providing her with support, and in turn supporting our community, despite the embarrassment and disregard that the administration treated us with. And above all, there were those who demanded that we think critically propelling ourselves forward along our paths of success.

We realized that what lies ahead of us, as challenging as it may be, will be more rewarding that anything that lies behind us. This critical thinking has challenged my ability to sit quietly as I did in the days of classes such as Hard Choices. It has led me to pick and chose the wrong battles when they seemed so right. And I have found myself fighting for principles and dreaming unrealistic dreams that supposedly will never come true.

The thing I have learned the most about is our obligation. Obligation is not simple. In fact for centuries the African American community has challenged its own definition of obligation within a world that no longer values the collective as much as it does the individual. But the African American obligation is complex. It is greater than the pettiness in which we find ourselves immersed. If we refuse to address the issues at Brown that are causing people to say that “we have no community,” “things were better four years ago,” or “its better here or there,” how will we be able to address the issues outside of Brown that are plaguing our community?

I’m trying to say something here. I’m challenging us to wonder how we will be able to embrace the cross-cultural currents of the African Diaspora that define our blackness when we find ourselves misguided as to the obligation that we have to one another here on College Hill.

The Van Wickle gates can be blinding. There have been too many conversations on why we don’t get along. Too many conversations on why our sense of self and community has declined. Too many conversations on why black male athletes are not dating black women. Too many conversations between those who agree and not enough between those who do not.

There have not been enough conversations about why things are they way they are. Not enough conversations on how we can better support ourselves. Not enough conversations on how the University needs to support us. Not enough conversations on what it will take for all of us to graduate together. And not enough realization that our fates are inextricably linked. That we are in this together.

If the Brown community does not foster a supportive environment in which we celebrate those who compose the Diaspora, then we must reevaluate the place in which we are living. We must realize that although you are not required to join the fights that I start simply because I am black, there are some battles that you are required to fight because you should not tolerate blatant disregard and disrespect towards a female, let alone a sister. We cannot let the lack of clear consensus issues muddle our brains into believing that issues of consensus do not exist. We have to fight for equal treatment under our justice system. We must work towards a global perspective. We have to fight because the effects of HIV and AIDS are destroying our community. And yes, our problems are not limited to the issues of race, but on the simplest level for many of us these statistics are the equivalent of peering into a mirror and seeing reflections of ourselves. Much of life surrounds a twist of fate. We as African Americans should be the ones who understand this the most. We cannot sit by in complacency.

And where do we go from here…

We must speak up as a community. If I’m not making a classroom more comfortable for myself, then how will it be for those who follow me? If Brown’s environment does not foster the growth of our community, then we must change Brown. We must take the time to celebrate that we have a black and female Ivy League president.

We must steer clear of the white male reductionist view; the one that plagues our society, the one that belittles our accomplishments and fails to take into account the historical, political, and social consequences of everyday interactions and how they affect and challenge the African American community- and we must call those who use it.

We need to concentrate on us. We need to relish our legacy of commitment, our interdependence and see it as a buoy instead of a weight.

And yes, it is hard to have a white woman with blond eyes teach me my own history in class, but it is my job to embrace with a grain of salt what I am taught and then reclaim it as my own.

Life at Brown has been a funny thing and I feel mostly that we fight to understand, to hold on, to not feel lost or to realize we weren’t necessarily fit for the job we imagined. Reevaluation of where you find yourself is one of life’s hardest tasks. It is also one of the most rewarding. We cannot continue misguided or confused about the path we are on and our obligation to one another. We must do better with our community, if only because it is a precursor to what we must do as a society. If not now, then when?

One of my closet friends told me to make sure I end by encouraging those who still have time here. She reminded me that it happens too often that people don’t think they can make it. Words of wisdom from a graduating senior— we in fact can change the world if we believe and if we are brave enough to try.

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