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To my beloved HBCU,
O Southern, my dear Southern, to much of my heartbreak I have to let you know that leadership has failed you–again. If you could see how the decisions of the fortunate few have defiled your legacy. This legacy was birthed out of the dreams of slaves on the very ground where they worked and on the battlefield where they shed blood on for our freedom–-they failed you. This soil that sprouted a safe haven for black minds to be morphed into free thinkers—they failed you. The only HBCU school system In The World–they failed you. The descendants of the vision of P.B.S. Pinchback and Dolores S. Spikes, oh how it pains me that they have failed you. With the crest of Lacumba across their chest, they forgot the power of her roar I fear, for they bowed to a Fox who even on her best day couldn’t measure up to the majesty of Lacumba’s stride.
This ground which is so sacred, so tender–so hallowed, they were supposed to protect you; instead, they opened our doors to a Fox whose intentions were not to raise you higher but instead puff their head and fill their pockets with all your wonder. And the fortunate few, they filled them; showering the swanky Fox with accolades this world has never seen before. They wanted to exploit you in a chess game of pomp and circumstance and send you across the airwaves for their personal gain. To make their image seem like something it’s not. It’s a shame they didn’t know the essence of your greatness–O Southern, Dear Southern, they did not know your aura until others elevated you on national pages and TV stages.
But O Southern, My dear sweet Southern, your children knew. Your sons and daughters held your banner high. Even when forced in the face of adversity, they stood tall for you. To understand that even though we know all ‘skin-folk ain’t kinfolk’ but you, Southern, taught us to find time to educate all even in the midst of a gaslighting stake that wants to remain permanent in your soil. We will not let it be. You taught us to raise our voices at every sound of injustice, not to infiltrate spaces to create tables for others. Still, you Southern, gave us the tools to build our own tables and build pillars of intelligence so we would never have to rub elbows with the likes of Foxes who flail dead presidents in our faces to make it seem we’d be nothing without them. Truth is, we have been everything since our very inception.
O Southern, Dear Southern, we’ll always loyal be. Where Foxes try to huff and puff and blow our house down, we know as pure and true as our Gold and Blue we will forever stand out bold for Thee. And that’s our forever promise to you.
Signed,
One Who Shall Not Be Shaken
