Читать книгу Go to School, You're a Little Black Boy - Lincoln Alexander - Страница 4

“Being first means you have to do more … you can’t be ordinary.”

If we are fortunate, there will be a series of memorable, critical, and invaluable experiences and events in our lives that will positively shape our outlooks, reinforce our beliefs, give us life goals, and guide us through our life journeys. I have been fortunate in that regard, as my experiences left me determined to be as good as I can be, to not be afraid to break ground or be intimidated by that overwhelming responsibility, and to not accept that my colour should inhibit my opportunities.

When my wife, Yvonne, and I travelled to Africa in 1960, the impact of that trip was overpowering, and even today it continues to resonate with me and define who I am. Race, colonialism, poverty, political turmoil, and the simplest of life’s goals for so many wonderful cultures were among the boundless issues and experiences that confronted us every day on that adventure. The trip gave me a great sense of pride in who I am as a human being and in my race, and, in so doing, it shaped and refined many of my goals in life.

It was around the time of this trip, not surprisingly, and in the ensuing years that it became clear to me that blacks could and should be national leaders, university professors, professionals of all sorts — part of the intellectual leadership. The idea of politics was never on my radar, as they say, in my university years and in my early law career. Fortuitous exposure to certain friends and colleagues changed that, leading me to become the first black member of Parliament in Canada and, eventually, the first black cabinet minister, albeit in a short-lived Joe Clark government. Cynics might contend such a first was inconsequential in the scheme of things, but I know differently. I know that from my colleagues at the time, from my constituents, and from members of the black community. It demonstrated what we are all capable of accomplishing and also what this country stands for. As well, I want to believe it served as a beacon of hope for the black community.

Fortunately, I had learned early not to fear being ahead of the pack. My determination was fuelled by my recognition from a very early age that education was the path to limitless possibility, and it has been, I think, fitting and well-suited that I was made chancellor of the University of Guelph in 1991. For a record five terms in that esteemed post, I have seen constant reinforcement of my belief in the grandness of education, from bright and enthusiastic students — the future — to committed educators and administrators who deliver that greatest gift.

Belief in that gift was the legacy that my mother, Mae Rose, gave me. The title of this book, the quote “Go to school, you’re a little black boy,” is hers, and I use it to honour her insight, beauty, and wisdom. Those words, her words, have been at the core of what I have accomplished in this life. She was a mere maid, but her knowledge and foresight transcended her station in life; she knew that accepting defeat was easy, but success was possible, and education was the vehicle to take you there. She was right, and it has.