DO IT AGAIN: REFLECTIONS OF A ‘78 “OLD BLUE” REDUX

In the lead up to what will certainly be a nostalgic?45th Year Reunion at Yale, I felt it appropriate to share these thoughts of my time in New Haven again.?I originally penned this as a memoir for the 25th.?Nostalgia can be a powerful intoxicant to those of us now in the “second half” of our lives. This is especially true, I believe, for those of us fortunate enough to have been a part of the hallowed history of Yale University.?Of course, “the older we get, the better we were!”?My Yale experience was a defining moment in my life and set the course for who I am today.?When we leave college, we depart with more than just a degree.??In many ways college can be the first real test of who we are as human beings.?God hopefully gives us a peek at His intentions for us.?If we can just quiet our minds, we might hear it in our hearts and see it in the mind’s eye.?Learning to be more present is one lesson we all probably could use a good refresher course in.?

Our minds are typically too loud to cut through all the clutter.?I know mine was back when I crossed that stage and received my diploma in front of my proud family.?I knew I had accomplished something special in graduating from one of the world’s greatest educational institutions known for producing leaders.??I really had no idea of what I wanted to do next.?Should I go to law school??That would have been the easy route as that was the “planned” course for my life.?After all, this is what a number of my classmates and friends were doing.?

However, that was not in my heart then, nor apparently my destiny.?During my senior year as president of my secret society, Wolf’s Head, I met a man named Malcolm Baldrige, who was the Chairman of Scovill Manufacturing and went on to become Secretary of Commerce under Ronald Reagan and even had an award for organizational excellence named after him.?He approached me after a presentation I gave at the Hall and asked about my post-graduation plans.?“Law school then business” I automatically replied.?“How about business first,” he suggested, and I had my first job right of college with NuTone Division of Scovill, managing a third of my home state of Michigan.

I never did make it to law school, and do sometimes wonder – what if??Now in 2023, I feel as though I actually did study corporate law based on the number of deals, agreements, and contracts I have negotiated throughout my professional and personal life.?You see, graduation was only the beginning of an effort to really discover who the real Lowell Perry, Jr. was/is.?I knew I possessed talent, and a gift for building relationships across all socio-economic or political barriers.?The ensuing years would begin to help me define my purpose, but also realize exactly the role Yale had played in setting me on my current path.?I have indeed been blessed to have had a wonderful ongoing journey as a successful senior executive in both the for-profit and social profit sectors.?The latter has been particularly gratifying, and in-sync with a desire for a more meaningful life.?In a future LinkedIn blog, and/or in a live presentation format, you will hear more about my thoughts on why it is important for any organization seeking a vibrant corporate culture, to have a “social profit mindset”.?Stay tuned.

In preparation for our 45th college reunion in June, I am updating this memoir on my days as a Yalie ?to continue the reflection on what the days in New Haven have done for me beyond receiving a diploma and gaining a great network of friends.??Music has always been important in my life.?I studied to it.?Danced and made love to it.?But most of all, while alone in my car driving down the road it is still a way for me to connect with myself and the Higher Power who guides my steps.?It is a place where I can hear God, and see with a clarity not dimmed by all the clutter around me.?Often, I will meditate and reflect in silence.?It is in that moment when we are able to hear that small soft voice sharing life’s revelations with us.?More on that small voice later, that would literally save my life.

Certain music especially sets off reflection for me about my life’s journey.?It seems as though whenever I am cruising down the highway listening to the classic Steely Dan tune, “Do It Again”, visions of Yale life flow through my mind like some bad MTV video.??My old roommate Larry Benders will likely gain a sense of satisfaction when he learns that I have embraced the works of Donald Fagin & crew at this stage in my life.?After all, Larry spent many a night trying to convince me during our endless debates as freshmen that Steely Dan was definitely in the “good music” category!

As I contemplate where to begin this 45th Reunion inspired narrative of college life, and answer the question of whether or not I have special memories about my life at Yale, the opening lines of “Do It Again” begin to dance away in the corridors of my mind.?Although many things flash in front of me, there are certain events during my time at Yale in particular, that helped to shape the person I am today. I remember them as though it were yesterday……………

“In the mornin’ you go gunnin’ for the man who stole your water….”

The tears rolling down the cheeks of my younger brother and sister, my mom, and yes, even my dad, as they all waved farewell to me as I stood in the door of our room at the Holiday Inn on Whalley Ave and they headed down to the car.?I wished them a safe journey home to Detroit, and promptly went back into the room to grab some tissue for myself.

As I checked out of the hotel, and began the march toward Old Campus and my new life as a college student, I felt intense anticipation, trepidation, and excitement all at once, as I tried on my new-found freedom, wondering what fun I was going to have first.

The magnificence of Harkness Tower against a backdrop of the bluest sky I had ever seen in my life to that point, filled me with a wide-eyed sense of adventure.?I recall pondering what it looked like at the top of that tower. I would later scale those spiral steps many a spring evening just for kicks.?I also remember how it seemed as though I had been on campus for over an hour before I saw another person of color, which was something of a culture shock for a young Black man who grew up in the City of Detroit.

“And you fire till he is done in but they catch you at the border….”

I smile when I think about that first Branford welcome party for freshmen, when a pretty girl with waist length hair and intense brown eyes, smiled at me from across the room --- and I smiled back.

I fondly recall:

Learning what the term “politically aware” meant, and that the world was not made up of just black and white, but a wonderful tapestry of colors and cultures that made college experience the richer for it.?I learned that diversity and the associated life’s experiences, was absolutely critical to us as Yalies getting a fuller picture of this world, and was without a doubt some of the best education I received in college. It prepared me for my personal and professional life better than any text book I opened in my four years at Yale. ??There exists a clear and present threat to our democracy in the form of an all out assault on this kind of diversity of thought and shared history.?It is led by a loud mouthed minority of simpletons who have ascended into the judiciary, as well as becoming elected officials at state, federal, and municipal levels. ?Unfortunately, a number of our friends and neighbors are also drinking the Koolaid and buying the bullshit.?True leaders don’t allow themselves to be herded around like sheep, nor do they fear those who are different from them.?I recall hearing from one of my Yale interviewers something to the effect that Yale was actively seeking out leaders with a natural curiosity to learn from others in order to be better and more involved citizens one day.

The Shockley/Rusher demonstration was my first experience as a political activist and civil rights advocate.?You see, these Stanford “professors” were traveling the country spewing a misguided thesis and political psycho-babble that opined blacks were mentally inferior to whites.?Think the fictional character in one of my favorite Seinfeld episodes – O’Brien.?For whatever reason, perhaps in the name of free speech, these jokers were invited by the Yale SDS to deliver their message on campus.?

We couldn’t just pick and choose some of our freedoms in this country like free speech, only when it is convenient.??But that didn’t mean we had to like it.??Having a right to free speech also meant we have the right to protest.??Young people of all hues linked arms and aims to protest against what we considered a travesty of thought and an abuse of the intent of free speech.?Intellectual malpractice. I learned about the power of working together for what is right and just.?Although it didn’t result in police beat downs, jail or fire hoses, the experience did give me a small peek into what it must have been like protesting in the 60’s.?It felt good, and my appetite was whet for what I would later be led to do with my life, including in my current role as the Chief Diversity Officer for the Greater Cleveland Film Commission.

I vividly recall the parties, where I also learned to do the salsa;

Devouring that first, delicious slice of pizza from Mama’s, located just outside of the main gate of Old Campus, during a late night study break;

Being uptight like everyone else, and stressing out about whether I would ever get an “A” at Yale, despite having been a stellar student throughout my scholastic career to that point;

The day I lightened up and made a pact with myself that Cross Campus library was off limits on Fridays and Saturdays, as those were now pure party days – the grades miraculously came.

I proudly reminisce about Freshmen Basketball, and the fun I had playing with a great group of guys, and the best coach I had during my Yale basketball career.

I remember the eloquent speech by varsity basketball outgoing senior Gary Franks, at the year-end banquet.?For some reason, although he averaged 25 points a game as a freshman and was probably the best player on the team, the coach seldom let him play the next three years. The future U. S. Congressman certainly was the best guard I played against back then.?But he never bashed the program when he had the chance, perhaps giving all of us in attendance that evening, a glimpse of his destiny as a politician.?Oh yeah, when they did let Gary start the final four games of the season with the other seniors on the team, as was tradition, he averaged 26 points per contest.

I think about the off-season pick-up games every day at Payne Whitney gym, which were fun, and oftentimes more competitive than actual varsity practices.?

I was thrilled about coming back for my sophomore year, confident that I would be one of the best players on the team.??You see, I spent my summers in Detroit playing and more than holding my own, against some of the best basketball talent in the country.??A number of them went on to play major college basketball, and some ended up in the NBA.?Surely I could compete in the Ivy League and distinguish myself.?Right? ?But life doesn’t always work out the way we plan it.??A new coach came to Yale who would allegedly do away with old thinking, and the team would travel to play in a tournament in Hawaii.?I was pumped!?Alas, my excitement was short-lived, as I was sucker punched by one of the most traumatic experiences during my Yale life.

“And the mourners are all singin’ as they drag you by your feet……”

My heart still sinks for a moment, as I recall the horror and the total shock I felt at being left off of the varsity roster.?A couple of my other freshmen teammates felt they were similarly blindsided, and rightfully so.??Having scrimmaged informally every day with returning varsity players, some of us were confident we would be representing Yale University again in the coming season.?But it wasn’t meant to be.

The situation was made even more difficult for me because my parents were in town on a visit that week.??We talked cheerily about the schedule the night before, and what games they would come to see.?There was never a single thought about not making the team.??After all, while I certainly had to fight for playing time, I had never been cut from any team my entire athletic life.?My confidence was only reinforced following a great practice, the day the roster went up.?But I shortly felt like the girl from the movie, “A League of Their Own”, who couldn’t find her name on the Peaches roster because she couldn’t read, as I searched in vain for my name.?

That coach not only left me off of the roster, but the entire damn class of 1978!?Guys I started with on the freshman team like Bill Mulrow, Clint Gardiner, and Vic Schmeltzer to name a few.??I still cannot believe it.?Surely there had been some mistake, so I immediately went to the coach’s office to get some answers.

I have to laugh, even today, about the disingenuous excuses given to me by that coach for why I didn’t make the team.?“Lowell, your fast style of play is better suited for schools like Louisville or North Carolina, and we are going to be literally walking the ball up the court.”?Now I was damn good back in my day, but not being 6’ 7” I had no illusions about playing for either of those programs, even though I was invited to visit Washington State University in the then PAC 10!? Even scrimmaged with some of their returning players and held my own.?That Yale coach even had the temerity to offer up that he hoped I didn’t think race was an issue.?Interesting that he even brought it up.?My response was “coach I certainly hope that is not the case, but what else am I left to think?”?I was devastated.?Returned to my Branford dorm room for a good cry, and then on to dinner with my folks.?What a blessing that they were in town to help remind me of who I was, and to help me keep my head held high!

“But the hangman isn’t hangin’ and they put you on the street….”

My spirits were lifted however, recalling the thrill of being part of the Branford intramural basketball team that won the college championship that year.?It was another blessing, as I really got to know some fellow students I probably never would have even met otherwise.?I still take great satisfaction in how that IM team almost beat the Yale varsity in a hotly contested year-end game, and the fans cheered louder for us!?If the varsity didn’t have Carnell Cooper on their side, we would have almost certainly beat them that afternoon.?Coop was one of the best athletes I had ever been around and could “jump out of the gym” as the saying goes!?That coach with his slick oily hair, left the gym red-faced and quite upset with his boys, after observing the near debacle from his perch up in the stands.?I looked up at him and probably silently uttered the famous title of one of CeeLo Green’s biggest explicit lyric hits. ?Y’all feel me?

I flash back to the parties again, and see my entire crew dancing away at “The House”.?I am also reminded of heading back to the off- campus sanctuary in West Haven that my roommate and life-long friend Charlie Weatherspoon (Spoon) and I affectionately referred to as “West Heaven”.?There we would have a cold beer and recap the night’s festivities.

Staring at my rear-view mirror, I smile at the then, bittersweet redemption of being the only player from the Class of 1978 to make the Varsity Basketball team as a junior, even if it was a step down from Branford.?Haha.

“You go back Jack do it again, wheel turnin’ ‘round and ‘round….’

Then came the frustration of not getting the playing time I felt deserved, but remembering how Congressman Franks had handled it a few years earlier, I didn't complain.?No disrespect to the other guys on that team back then, but there is no way I shouldn’t have been playing ball.?But I persevered.

Speaking of persevering, I talked about a small soft voice earlier in this reflection.?In a strange way, my Yale basketball experience helped to prepare me to deal with perhaps the most difficult time in my life when I was diagnosed with cancer.?Back in 2008, we were living in Franklin Tennessee, outside of Nashville.?There was a huge storm coming through.?On our back deck, there was an old dog crate in which lived a big black feral cat, Mr. Kitty we called him, who kept us clear of field mice and other critters, sometimes leaving perfectly dissected entrails on our front porch to show he was doing his job.?I woke up at 3 am, and went through the house to check on the kids as per normal.?As I checked outside on the back deck, the wind was picking up, and a big opossum had occupied Mr. Kitty’s house.?Yikes!?I went back to bed figuring that the unwanted guest would vacate by morning and I told myself I would deal with it then.?God had other plans though.?He clearly said in that small soft voice – deal with it now.?So I returned to the back deck, picked up the crate with the testy critter, and began to shake him out, when bam!?I had a splitting pain in my right scapula.?Had I torn a rotator cuff??No it was a pathological fracture.?Big yikes!?

Long story short, because I listened to that small soft voice, I was diagnosed early with multiple myeloma, and therefore had myriad options some don’t get with this sneaky form of cancer.?Happy to report that by the grace of God, I am in remission.?Guess the Big Guy has more for me to do on earth for the time being.?I tell people when I share this story in speaking engagements that this was not a “why me?” moment in my life, but rather, a thank you God inflection point in my life’s journey.?It has given me a finer focus and fuel to do more in service to others in need.?There are a number of us in the Class of 78 doing God’s work.?We invite y’all to join us in the fight for greater diversity, equity and inclusion in all of the systems that impact us as Americans such as healthcare, housing, banking, justice, and education for starters.?Those systems, and others, remain bogged down and unfairly stacked against people of color in particular, through an infection of racism that will ultimately prove lethal to this country if it continues to be ignored.?

I turn up the volume as Denny Dias breaks into an awesome guitar solo.

I remember one of the biggest snow blizzards the East Coast had seen in decades, and how that event was responsible for my getting hooked on “All My Children”;

I belly laugh when I think about Poobah and the other football-players “gatoring” at Rudy’s and seeing Spoon who played football trying to maintain his cool demeanor in the face of insistent urging to join his teammates on the beer soaked floor;

A thought about the Family – my “inner circle” and support group back then, makes me even more appreciative of that friendship.?We rallied around each other during both triumphs and defeats.?Yale would have been so much more difficult without those brothers.?Spoon, Rodney, Fred, Kenny, Rennie, Harry, Steve, just to name a few.

I recall a couple of our local acquaintances from New Haven that we hung out with from time to time, and how those associations quietly helped the historically strained relationship between “town & gown”.?Perhaps in some small way, my crew and I exploded the myth that anyone who attended Yale had to be a spoiled, elitist brat, by treating our neighbors from the city with the same respect we felt we deserved ourselves.?Having served as a “big brother” to David was also a foreshadowing of what would eventually be a nearly ten year career as a senior executive with Big Brothers Big Sisters.

The disappointment of not being named captain of the Varsity basketball team, as the only senior on the roster, brings a frown back to my face.?To think, for as long as anyone could remember, a senior had always been captain.?Oh well, I guess I would’ve have looked silly in one of those tight sweaters, sitting on that ridiculous fence.?Honestly, I was crushed, as I had been captain of nearly every athletic team I had ever competed on.?I have always felt natural in leadership roles.?

“When you know she’s no high climber, then you find your only friend…”

I solemnly think about the only time I had ever quit anything, when I left the basketball team after I could no longer take sitting on the bench behind players I felt in my heart, I was better than.?It was embarrassing to sit there on the road, watching our guys getting spanked on the floor, and wondering what opposing fans in the stands thought about those of us on the pine who knew we were better players than the ones they were watching.?Did those fans think we were even worse than the people out on the floor since we weren’t playing??Needless to say, a couple of us were usually sweating profusely following warm-up drills, as that was our only chance to showcase our sequestered athletic skills.??

So with an odd sense of relief, I turned in the Eli uniform that had become tarnished in my eyes, and moved on.??Fortunately I was blessed with sufficient athletic ability to be welcomed onto the varsity track team that same day.?Although my track season was cut short due to injury, I still had the chance to compete, and I discovered what a true genius Harry Davis is, in spite of his somewhat unconventional ways.?His ability to pay attention to detail as a stellar hurdler has certainly been important to his career as a filmmaker.?

And then there was Wolf’s Head.?One of the highlights of my senior year was the time I spent in “The Hall.”

The fascinating architecture of that windowless mausoleum we called our country-club, the wild stories told by visiting alumni, the support and compassion shown by fellow delegates during those rare times we opened up to others via personal history presentations. ?And the gourmet meals Rosey prepared on Thursdays and Sundays were as good as anything I have ever eaten in Manhattan.

There are some things about life at Yale that I will never understand, however.

I am still baffled at how intelligent, creative, future leaders of America, can be suckered in year after year to participate in a mindless event like Bladderball, unless of course you were the ones lobbing water balloons into the beer-soaked masses like some of us did from the top floor of Welch Hall.?Todd McCreight was the genius behind the catapult we fashioned that was especially effective at night.?

“In a room with your two-timer, and you’re sure you’re near the end…”

Most of all, I remember the smiles on the faces of my family, especially the proud look of my dad, when I received my diploma at graduation

And the feeling as I drove out of New Haven headed back to Motown, via a detour in Manhattan for a couple of days, that although a wonderful adventure was ending, a new chapter in my life was just beginning.

In many ways, our Yale experience was a condensed version of what life had in store for us as we faced real responsibility for the first time. There were ups and downs, laughter and tears, joy and pain, excitement and disappointment. ?In essence, life happened, and we are all better men and women for it, which should give all of us who are parents a bit of solace that somehow, our children will “get it” one day – without our help.

“In the land of milk and honey, you must put them on the table…..”

I am sure we all have some regrets about our time at Yale, the greatest possibly being that we were all so caught up in academics, and selfish indulgences, that we didn’t give ourselves the chance to really get to know one another back then.?It would have been beautiful had we had more meaningful conversation about our respective fears, hopes and dreams.?Maybe we gave all we were capable of giving at that time in our sociological development.?We probably were better off keeping our mouths shut, and simply enjoying the moment.?

At the end of the day, it was absolutely the people who made Yale special for me.?I see faces from my past, not textbooks.?I vividly recall interactions with other Yalies.?Naturally we would all like to go back and handle some situations and encounters with more tact, after we have had the benefit of reflecting on those instances as now mature adults.?However, we are who we are today because we learned not only from the things we did right, but also from those mistakes we made back then.?In any event, sincere apologies to anyone I may have offended or disappointed in some way back then.

The Class of 1978 is extra special because it provided an example of how diversity can be a catalyst for true personal growth.?Our class was comprised of the most diverse group of students the University had ever seen.?We celebrated those differences by teaching each other about our respective ethnic and cultural backgrounds.?We worked together, played together, loved together, partied together, and became better people because of it.?

Yale is a proving ground for tomorrow’s leaders not because of GPAs and high SAT scores.?Nor is it because of countless hours spent hidden from human contact in “The Stacks”.?Those things certainly played a part in the grand scheme of things, but it is the diverse environment of Yale that provides for the significant character growth that only comes through personal interaction with a variety of people, beliefs, and life experiences.??

It is this realization that allows me to place the good, the bad, and the ugly of my Yale experience, my entire life for that matter, into a huge bag, shake it up, and know that I would indeed –

“Do It Again!”

Happy 45th to my fellow 78ers!

Peace,

LP