A note to my fellow Morehouse men

Give your president the room he needs to be great at Morehouse.
A tour guide ushers prospective students on March 18 near the Benjamin E. Mays Memorial in front of Graves Hall on the Morehouse College campus in Atlanta. (Jason Getz/The Atlanta Journal-Constitution/TNS)

Credit: TNS

Credit: TNS

A tour guide ushers prospective students on March 18 near the Benjamin E. Mays Memorial in front of Graves Hall on the Morehouse College campus in Atlanta. (Jason Getz/The Atlanta Journal-Constitution/TNS)

On the day I graduated from Morehouse College in 1984, some 40 years ago, the Rev. Jesse L. Jackson was the commencement speaker. Having been born and raised in Chicago, I was no stranger to Jackson’s stellar preaching and oration skills, and yet I remember not one single word of his speech. He was in the throes of an exhausting first run for president, and it was clear he was profoundly fatigued. I vaguely remember falling asleep.

What I do remember about my graduation day, however, was my father, aunts, uncles and cousins, including my cousin Cookie (Lillian), who graduated later that same day from Spelman College, all being there to celebrate my making my mother’s dream come true: to have a son become a Morehouse Man. She was not there, having died less than two years before that proud and glorious day.

It has been excruciating to witness the atrocious and terroristic murders and kidnappings of Israelis and others at the hands of Hamas on Oct. 7 and the startlingly brutal response to those atrocities by the Israeli Defense Forces in Gaza. But I caution my Morehouse brothers not to turn their backs on the president when he speaks at their graduation ceremony next week.

Of course, the potential hurt feelings of one man cannot be compared to the unimaginable suffering of the Palestinian people in this moment of war, nor of the Israeli citizens and Jews and others who live daily with the anxiety of not knowing when or if their loved ones will be freed from capture.

Credit: Darryl Fortson

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Credit: Darryl Fortson

Morehouse Men have to do something in these matters. But the things they do must be the right thing. First, they must not detract from the dignity and triumph of the families who have successfully negotiated a Black man from the cradle, past the drive-bys, the gangs, the police, the crack pipe and the prison-industrial complex built for Black men. The moment is too precious, and it can never be reclaimed. Second, they would do well to think of Cedric L. Richmond, a Morehouse Man who, when he became director of the White House Office of Engagement, was the first Morehouse Man to serve in that capacity. Neither he nor any other such individual can be envisioned as serving in the next if President Biden is not reelected.

Life will ultimately reveal to you that “you think you know, but, well, you never know.” It was 59 years ago that then-President Lyndon B. Johnson gave the commencement address, now known as the “To Fulfill These Rights” speech, at another HBCU, Howard University. (That speech was addressed to then-Howard University President James Nabrit, Morehouse class of 1923.) It serves as one of the greatest orations on the condition of the Black man in American history. No one saw that great a speech coming.

But how much of a squandered historical moment, during another unpopular war (Vietnam), would it have been if President Johnson had spoken to Black folks’ backs there instead to the nation’s soul?

My humble suggestion to the Class of 2024 is not to plan to oppose Biden in advance but to challenge and inspire him in advance. Challenge him to give an oration for the ages, one rivaling Johnson’s. Challenge him to reconcile justice for the aggrieved Israelis, quashing terrorism wherever it rears its ugly head, even as he encourages Israeli leadership to revisit the just, loving and righteous nature of the God they serve, particularly in the matter of the Palestinian people, helping them to remember that it was a certain Jewish rabbi of old named Jesus who preached a gospel of love, mercy, forgiveness and peace. And challenge him to speak to the injustices against our people here at home.

Give your president the room he needs to be great at Morehouse — for Morehouse and for your loved ones and the alumni in attendance. Don’t interfere with the celebration of the people who have sacrificed so much to see this great day. You are a part of a continuum of great struggle. Play your part with grace and with vision. You are, after all, Morehouse Men.

Darryl Fortson is a family physician in Las Vegas and a 1984 graduate of Morehouse College.