“I was born in 1962”

Reflections about last week of May 2020?

I find it hard to believe I was born 57 ? years ago. This was before the assassination of Martin Luther King in 1968, before the Voting Rights Act of 1965 (outlawed special tests to vote), and Civil Rights Act of 1968 (Fair Housing Act). Much had occurred from 1948 when President Truman desegregated the military until the year before my birth in May 1961 when Freedom Riders went to the south to commemorate the Brown vs. Board of Education decision by the Supreme Court had their bus bombed by an angry mob and were beaten when they escaped the inferno. It is hard to believe we are living in the 21st century. The events of the past week feel like we are living in a past era.

My own story began in a small town in rural eastern North Carolina. I was born very poor with few to no opportunities available to me other than getting an education. From 7th grade, I knew I wanted to be a doctor. I remember being told by a doctor that I would never become a doctor because I was too poor (and probably too black). When I was 4 or 5 years old, I remember reading a sign over the doctor’s office door that said Blacks Only (this was the back door of the clinic in 1968 or 1969). I went through school (high school and college) with a single-minded focus of going to medical school someday. As I reflect on my past challenges, I realized that fewer than 200 black students attended the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill (my alma mater) in 1968. I was unaware of the odds stacked against me. With the help of many people who saw my potential over the years, I was able to realize my dreams of becoming a doctor in 1989.

What does my story have to do with what is happening today. By the grace of God and the help of my community and others, I was (and am) able to live my dream. What about those who are not? The events of the last 3 months with COVID-19 and the death of numerous black men and women over this same time period illustrates that the final common pathway for black people in America is hardship and death. Death by a gun, death by police and mostly death by disease (COVID-19 being the latest cause). This is not a political statement. My plea for us to respect and care for others.

I attend a very liberal Presbyterian Church in Decatur, GA that is majority white. I love the messages from our team of pastors about social justice and how we are all to strive to serve our fellow man, no matter who they are or what their circumstances are. I was attending a church sponsored dinner where we meet with others from the congregation we might not otherwise interact with. After dinner the topic of racism in America came up. Someone asked me what I thought would help our country heal. My answer was very simple. Children are not born racist (or any other way), they are socialized this way by family, friends and the society they live in. The only way we will change America is to change our hearts (the collective heart) not by concentrating on our differences but on how we are alike.

When one dies we all die… When one suffer, we all suffer… When one fails, we all fail…