Latest news with #Morehouse
Yahoo
25-05-2025
- Yahoo
A Black 18-year-old college student was lynched on a playground 95 years ago. His nephew just accepted his posthumous degree
As Imam Plemon El-Amin stood on stage at Morehouse College in front of hundreds of people, donning graduation regalia his uncle Dennis Hubert never got to wear, all he could think was that Hubert would never be forgotten – even 95 years after he was killed. Hubert, an 18-year-old African American divinity student at Morehouse College, was lynched in June 1930 by a mob of seven White men on the playground of a segregated Atlanta school. Last Sunday, the historically Black all-male college where Hubert was a rising sophomore awarded him a posthumous Bachelor of Arts degree in religion. At the commencement ceremony, Morehouse President David Thomas called Hubert a 'son of Morehouse, a martyr of justice, and what history now sees as the Trayvon Martin of the 1930s in Atlanta.' El-Amin, who never met Hubert, says the moment reminded him of an Islamic saying: There are three things a person leaves behind after their death – their charity, knowledge and family members who pray for them. 'Many prayers were said in his name,' El-Amin said about the ceremony, where the 75-year-old accepted the posthumous degree on his uncle's behalf. 'Many people remembered him and were informed about his life and his legacy, and so the knowledge was there, as well as the charity of him sacrificing his life so that we would be more conscious of the value of young life and the value of human life, but also the value of justice.' El-Amin's family has had 'a long tradition' of a 'connection with Morehouse,' he said, with multiple generations graduating from the institution. Ten men in his family graduated from Morehouse and seven women graduated from its sister school, Spelman College. 'I was proud of Morehouse to give Dennis the honor, and I'm quite appreciative,' El-Amin said. 'The whole Hubert family is really appreciative of that.' Hubert's family had well-established roots in the community: his father was a prominent preacher and his mother was the principal of the elementary school where Hubert was killed, according to El-Amin. 'For one of their promising children, who (was) a rising sophomore at the Morehouse College to be murdered just in cold blood … at that time, 1930, is saying that there (were) no human rights given to the people of Georgia,' El-Amin said. Hubert was one of at least 38 lynching victims killed in Fulton County between 1877 and 1950, according to the Equal Justice Initiative. In Georgia, nearly 600 African Americans were lynched in that period – the second highest number of lynchings in any state. 'When we begin to address this history, when we begin to try to create remedies for the harm and suffering that terror violence and lynching violence created, I think we lay a path down that will help us move forward, which is why I was so pleased that Morehouse decided to award a degree posthumously to Dennis Hubert,' said Bryan Stevenson, the executive director of the Equal Justice Initiative. Like many lynching victims, Hubert was a young man with a bright future ahead of him. When he was killed, the student had been the driver for John Hope, the first Black president of Morehouse. 'This is a recognition of Dennis as not only a human being, but also as someone that had made his mark and was beginning to make his mark at Morehouse, and was not able to make his full mark here in the city or in life, but that people have a high regard for him,' El-Amin said. Less than 15 minutes after Hubert arrived at the Crogman School for Negroes that fateful evening on June 15, 1930, several White men attacked Hubert, falsely accusing him of insulting a White woman. 'What do you want of me? I have done nothing,' Hubert told the mob before one of the men shot him point-blank in the back of the head in front of two dozen witnesses. Hubert's killing sent shockwaves across the community, and the men were soon indicted in connection with his killing – accountability that was rare during that period, according to the Fulton County Remembrance Coalition. The defense argued the killing was 'justifiable homicide' because of the alleged insult. 'The African American community was pushing for justice, and they did get some things that were first in terms of justice between Black and White folk,' El-Amin said. Two days after the men were denied bail, the home of Dennis Hubert's father, Rev. G. J. Hubert, was burned to the ground, according to the coalition. When a Black Baptist church held a fundraiser to rebuild the home and support prosecution of the men, a White mob bombed it with tear gas. Days later, Dennis Hubert's cousin, Rev. Charles R. Hubert, escaped an attempt on his life, and the Spelman College chapel was attacked, according to the coalition. The men were acquitted of murder charges, and only two were convicted of lesser offenses, according to the coalition. One man received a sentence of 12 to 15 years for voluntary manslaughter, while another who confessed to firing the fatal shot received a sentence of just two years. El-Amin's mother, who was 12 when her brother was killed, scarcely spoke about Hubert because of the pain his loss had wrought. 'He was probably her protector and her person that she looked up to,' El-Amin said. But when she grew older and El-Amin became her caretaker, his mother would often call him 'Dennis,' which was 'quite moving' for El-Amin. Though Hubert died 20 years before his nephew was born, the tragedy scarred the family for generations. Growing up as the only son in his family, El-Amin said his mother worried about him because she couldn't bear to lose another family member. Other family members moved out of Atlanta to escape the trauma. They were among more than six million Black people who fled the South to escape racial terrorism between 1916 and 1970, according to the coalition. While Hubert's death traumatized El-Amin's family, he says he's comforted by his faith. 'Life doesn't stop with death and … God rewards those who are oppressed and those who are unjustly murdered,' he said. Part of the tragedy of Hubert's lynching was a lack of awareness surrounding his story among Morehouse graduates until only recently, several alumni said. Michael Tyler, a 1977 Morehouse graduate, said he doesn't 'believe that any of my classmates, or anybody during our generation, was aware of what had transpired with Dennis Hubert.' A few years ago, Tyler learned of Hubert's story when he visited an exhibit memorializing him at the National Memorial for Peace and Justice in Montgomery, Alabama. Sean Jones, a 1998 graduate who serves as president of the Atlanta branch of the Association for the Study of African American Life and History, discovered that piece of his school's history in 2021, then called for a discussion of it at the next alumni meeting. As a board member of the Fulton County Remembrance Coalition, Jones constantly advocated for the college to formally recognize Hubert and educate both students and alumni about his story. 'It's personal, it's painful, and … oftentimes it's a scary thing, because some persons have nightmares about it once they hear this kind of history,' Jones said. 'But it is something that must be discussed, must be highlighted.' The lack of awareness about the tragedy – even among Morehouse graduates – made the college's tribute that much more meaningful, Tyler and Jones said. 'It was extraordinarily significant and compelling, and something that I am exceedingly proud of my alma mater for doing – telling a story that had not been told in the public domain as it needed to be,' Tyler said. With the long-overdue recognition, '(Hubert's) memory will continue to inspire a new generation of Morehouse Men to serve with courage, speak truth to power, and uphold the ideals of equity and moral leadership in their respective callings,' a Morehouse College spokesperson said in a statement. Morehouse had approached El-Amin about the decision to award Hubert a degree a year and a half ago and initially planned to recognize Hubert last year, he said. Morehouse's faculty and students had nominated Hubert for the honorary degree, according to the college president. 'We remember the son who should have become a man here. We remember the voice that would have preached liberation. We remember the dreamer who was never given the chance to dream aloud,' Thomas said at the ceremony. El-Amin believes the school's decision to honor Dennis was influenced by the work of the Fulton County Remembrance Coalition and the Equal Justice Initiative to memorialize Hubert along with other lynching victims. The organizations in 2021 collected soil from the site of Hubert's killing – now the Crogman School Lofts apartment complex – and placed a marker there in his honor in 2022. A group of Morehouse students who attended the 2022 commemoration joined hands, encircled the memorial marker and sang the 'Dear Old Morehouse' hymn in Hubert's honor, Tyler recalled. 'Ninety-five years later, people are conscious of his life, which means he's still alive, though not here with us physically or in body, but his life, his will, and he is providing inspiration for those of us left behind,' El-Amin said. Such memorials may help educate future generations and prevent the return of past injustices, community members said. They're especially important today 'when there's such a hostility in some spaces to learning the history of struggle and violence against Black people,' Stevenson, of the Equal Justice Initiative, said. 'We can see that those very, very terrible times are not that far away and can easily come back,' El-Amin said.
CNN
25-05-2025
- CNN
A Black 18-year-old college student was lynched on a playground 95 years ago. His nephew just accepted his posthumous degree
Student life Crime Race & ethnicityFacebookTweetLink Follow As Imam Plemon El-Amin stood on stage at Morehouse College in front of hundreds of people, donning graduation regalia his uncle Dennis Hubert never got to wear, all he could think was that Hubert would never be forgotten – even 95 years after he was killed. Hubert, an 18-year-old African American divinity student at Morehouse College, was lynched in June 1930 by a mob of seven White men on the playground of a segregated Atlanta school. Last Sunday, the historically Black all-male college where Hubert was a rising sophomore awarded him a posthumous Bachelor of Arts degree in religion. At the commencement ceremony, Morehouse President David Thomas called Hubert a 'son of Morehouse, a martyr of justice, and what history now sees as the Trayvon Martin of the 1930s in Atlanta.' El-Amin, who never met Hubert, says the moment reminded him of an Islamic saying: There are three things a person leaves behind after their death – their charity, knowledge and family members who pray for them. 'Many prayers were said in his name,' El-Amin said about the ceremony, where the 75-year-old accepted the posthumous degree on his uncle's behalf. 'Many people remembered him and were informed about his life and his legacy, and so the knowledge was there, as well as the charity of him sacrificing his life so that we would be more conscious of the value of young life and the value of human life, but also the value of justice.' El-Amin's family has had 'a long tradition' of a 'connection with Morehouse,' he said, with multiple generations graduating from the institution. Ten men in his family graduated from Morehouse and seven women graduated from its sister school, Spelman College. 'I was proud of Morehouse to give Dennis the honor, and I'm quite appreciative,' El-Amin said. 'The whole Hubert family is really appreciative of that.' Hubert's family had well-established roots in the community: his father was a prominent preacher and his mother was the principal of the elementary school where Hubert was killed, according to El-Amin. 'For one of their promising children, who (was) a rising sophomore at the Morehouse College to be murdered just in cold blood … at that time, 1930, is saying that there (were) no human rights given to the people of Georgia,' El-Amin said. Hubert was one of at least 38 lynching victims killed in Fulton County between 1877 and 1950, according to the Equal Justice Initiative. In Georgia, nearly 600 African Americans were lynched in that period – the second highest number of lynchings in any state. 'When we begin to address this history, when we begin to try to create remedies for the harm and suffering that terror violence and lynching violence created, I think we lay a path down that will help us move forward, which is why I was so pleased that Morehouse decided to award a degree posthumously to Dennis Hubert,' said Bryan Stevenson, the executive director of the Equal Justice Initiative. Like many lynching victims, Hubert was a young man with a bright future ahead of him. When he was killed, the student had been the driver for John Hope, the first Black president of Morehouse. 'This is a recognition of Dennis as not only a human being, but also as someone that had made his mark and was beginning to make his mark at Morehouse, and was not able to make his full mark here in the city or in life, but that people have a high regard for him,' El-Amin said. Less than 15 minutes after Hubert arrived at the Crogman School for Negroes that fateful evening on June 15, 1930, several White men attacked Hubert, falsely accusing him of insulting a White woman. 'What do you want of me? I have done nothing,' Hubert told the mob before one of the men shot him point-blank in the back of the head in front of two dozen witnesses. Hubert's killing sent shockwaves across the community, and the men were soon indicted in connection with his killing – accountability that was rare during that period, according to the Fulton County Remembrance Coalition. The defense argued the killing was 'justifiable homicide' because of the alleged insult. 'The African American community was pushing for justice, and they did get some things that were first in terms of justice between Black and White folk,' El-Amin said. Two days after the men were denied bail, the home of Dennis Hubert's father, Rev. G. J. Hubert, was burned to the ground, according to the coalition. When a Black Baptist church held a fundraiser to rebuild the home and support prosecution of the men, a White mob bombed it with tear gas. Days later, Dennis Hubert's cousin, Rev. Charles R. Hubert, escaped an attempt on his life, and the Spelman College chapel was attacked, according to the coalition. The men were acquitted of murder charges, and only two were convicted of lesser offenses, according to the coalition. One man received a sentence of 12 to 15 years for voluntary manslaughter, while another who confessed to firing the fatal shot received a sentence of just two years. El-Amin's mother, who was 12 when her brother was killed, scarcely spoke about Hubert because of the pain his loss had wrought. 'He was probably her protector and her person that she looked up to,' El-Amin said. But when she grew older and El-Amin became her caretaker, his mother would often call him 'Dennis,' which was 'quite moving' for El-Amin. Though Hubert died 20 years before his nephew was born, the tragedy scarred the family for generations. Growing up as the only son in his family, El-Amin said his mother worried about him because she couldn't bear to lose another family member. Other family members moved out of Atlanta to escape the trauma. They were among more than six million Black people who fled the South to escape racial terrorism between 1916 and 1970, according to the coalition. While Hubert's death traumatized El-Amin's family, he says he's comforted by his faith. 'Life doesn't stop with death and … God rewards those who are oppressed and those who are unjustly murdered,' he said. Part of the tragedy of Hubert's lynching was a lack of awareness surrounding his story among Morehouse graduates until only recently, several alumni said. Michael Tyler, a 1977 Morehouse graduate, said he doesn't 'believe that any of my classmates, or anybody during our generation, was aware of what had transpired with Dennis Hubert.' A few years ago, Tyler learned of Hubert's story when he visited an exhibit memorializing him at the National Memorial for Peace and Justice in Montgomery, Alabama. Sean Jones, a 1998 graduate who serves as president of the Atlanta branch of the Association for the Study of African American Life and History, discovered that piece of his school's history in 2021, then called for a discussion of it at the next alumni meeting. As a board member of the Fulton County Remembrance Coalition, Jones constantly advocated for the college to formally recognize Hubert and educate both students and alumni about his story. 'It's personal, it's painful, and … oftentimes it's a scary thing, because some persons have nightmares about it once they hear this kind of history,' Jones said. 'But it is something that must be discussed, must be highlighted.' The lack of awareness about the tragedy – even among Morehouse graduates – made the college's tribute that much more meaningful, Tyler and Jones said. 'It was extraordinarily significant and compelling, and something that I am exceedingly proud of my alma mater for doing – telling a story that had not been told in the public domain as it needed to be,' Tyler said. With the long-overdue recognition, '(Hubert's) memory will continue to inspire a new generation of Morehouse Men to serve with courage, speak truth to power, and uphold the ideals of equity and moral leadership in their respective callings,' a Morehouse College spokesperson said in a statement. Morehouse had approached El-Amin about the decision to award Hubert a degree a year and a half ago and initially planned to recognize Hubert last year, he said. Morehouse's faculty and students had nominated Hubert for the honorary degree, according to the college president. 'We remember the son who should have become a man here. We remember the voice that would have preached liberation. We remember the dreamer who was never given the chance to dream aloud,' Thomas said at the ceremony. El-Amin believes the school's decision to honor Dennis was influenced by the work of the Fulton County Remembrance Coalition and the Equal Justice Initiative to memorialize Hubert along with other lynching victims. The organizations in 2021 collected soil from the site of Hubert's killing – now the Crogman School Lofts apartment complex – and placed a marker there in his honor in 2022. A group of Morehouse students who attended the 2022 commemoration joined hands, encircled the memorial marker and sang the 'Dear Old Morehouse' hymn in Hubert's honor, Tyler recalled. 'Ninety-five years later, people are conscious of his life, which means he's still alive, though not here with us physically or in body, but his life, his will, and he is providing inspiration for those of us left behind,' El-Amin said. Such memorials may help educate future generations and prevent the return of past injustices, community members said. They're especially important today 'when there's such a hostility in some spaces to learning the history of struggle and violence against Black people,' Stevenson, of the Equal Justice Initiative, said. 'We can see that those very, very terrible times are not that far away and can easily come back,' El-Amin said.
CNN
25-05-2025
- CNN
A Black 18-year-old college student was lynched on a playground 95 years ago. His nephew just accepted his posthumous degree
As Imam Plemon El-Amin stood on stage at Morehouse College in front of hundreds of people, donning graduation regalia his uncle Dennis Hubert never got to wear, all he could think was that Hubert would never be forgotten – even 95 years after he was killed. Hubert, an 18-year-old African American divinity student at Morehouse College, was lynched in June 1930 by a mob of seven White men on the playground of a segregated Atlanta school. Last Sunday, the historically Black all-male college where Hubert was a rising sophomore awarded him a posthumous Bachelor of Arts degree in religion. At the commencement ceremony, Morehouse President David Thomas called Hubert a 'son of Morehouse, a martyr of justice, and what history now sees as the Trayvon Martin of the 1930s in Atlanta.' El-Amin, who never met Hubert, says the moment reminded him of an Islamic saying: There are three things a person leaves behind after their death – their charity, knowledge and family members who pray for them. 'Many prayers were said in his name,' El-Amin said about the ceremony, where the 75-year-old accepted the posthumous degree on his uncle's behalf. 'Many people remembered him and were informed about his life and his legacy, and so the knowledge was there, as well as the charity of him sacrificing his life so that we would be more conscious of the value of young life and the value of human life, but also the value of justice.' El-Amin's family has had 'a long tradition' of a 'connection with Morehouse,' he said, with multiple generations graduating from the institution. Ten men in his family graduated from Morehouse and seven women graduated from its sister school, Spelman College. 'I was proud of Morehouse to give Dennis the honor, and I'm quite appreciative,' El-Amin said. 'The whole Hubert family is really appreciative of that.' Hubert's family had well-established roots in the community: his father was a prominent preacher and his mother was the principal of the elementary school where Hubert was killed, according to El-Amin. 'For one of their promising children, who (was) a rising sophomore at the Morehouse College to be murdered just in cold blood … at that time, 1930, is saying that there (were) no human rights given to the people of Georgia,' El-Amin said. Hubert was one of at least 38 lynching victims killed in Fulton County between 1877 and 1950, according to the Equal Justice Initiative. In Georgia, nearly 600 African Americans were lynched in that period – the second highest number of lynchings in any state. 'When we begin to address this history, when we begin to try to create remedies for the harm and suffering that terror violence and lynching violence created, I think we lay a path down that will help us move forward, which is why I was so pleased that Morehouse decided to award a degree posthumously to Dennis Hubert,' said Bryan Stevenson, the executive director of the Equal Justice Initiative. Like many lynching victims, Hubert was a young man with a bright future ahead of him. When he was killed, the student had been the driver for John Hope, the first Black president of Morehouse. 'This is a recognition of Dennis as not only a human being, but also as someone that had made his mark and was beginning to make his mark at Morehouse, and was not able to make his full mark here in the city or in life, but that people have a high regard for him,' El-Amin said. Less than 15 minutes after Hubert arrived at the Crogman School for Negroes that fateful evening on June 15, 1930, several White men attacked Hubert, falsely accusing him of insulting a White woman. 'What do you want of me? I have done nothing,' Hubert told the mob before one of the men shot him point-blank in the back of the head in front of two dozen witnesses. Hubert's killing sent shockwaves across the community, and the men were soon indicted in connection with his killing – accountability that was rare during that period, according to the Fulton County Remembrance Coalition. The defense argued the killing was 'justifiable homicide' because of the alleged insult. 'The African American community was pushing for justice, and they did get some things that were first in terms of justice between Black and White folk,' El-Amin said. Two days after the men were denied bail, the home of Dennis Hubert's father, Rev. G. J. Hubert, was burned to the ground, according to the coalition. When a Black Baptist church held a fundraiser to rebuild the home and support prosecution of the men, a White mob bombed it with tear gas. Days later, Dennis Hubert's cousin, Rev. Charles R. Hubert, escaped an attempt on his life, and the Spelman College chapel was attacked, according to the coalition. The men were acquitted of murder charges, and only two were convicted of lesser offenses, according to the coalition. One man received a sentence of 12 to 15 years for voluntary manslaughter, while another who confessed to firing the fatal shot received a sentence of just two years. El-Amin's mother, who was 12 when her brother was killed, scarcely spoke about Hubert because of the pain his loss had wrought. 'He was probably her protector and her person that she looked up to,' El-Amin said. But when she grew older and El-Amin became her caretaker, his mother would often call him 'Dennis,' which was 'quite moving' for El-Amin. Though Hubert died 20 years before his nephew was born, the tragedy scarred the family for generations. Growing up as the only son in his family, El-Amin said his mother worried about him because she couldn't bear to lose another family member. Other family members moved out of Atlanta to escape the trauma. They were among more than six million Black people who fled the South to escape racial terrorism between 1916 and 1970, according to the coalition. While Hubert's death traumatized El-Amin's family, he says he's comforted by his faith. 'Life doesn't stop with death and … God rewards those who are oppressed and those who are unjustly murdered,' he said. Part of the tragedy of Hubert's lynching was a lack of awareness surrounding his story among Morehouse graduates until only recently, several alumni said. Michael Tyler, a 1977 Morehouse graduate, said he doesn't 'believe that any of my classmates, or anybody during our generation, was aware of what had transpired with Dennis Hubert.' A few years ago, Tyler learned of Hubert's story when he visited an exhibit memorializing him at the National Memorial for Peace and Justice in Montgomery, Alabama. Sean Jones, a 1998 graduate who serves as president of the Atlanta branch of the Association for the Study of African American Life and History, discovered that piece of his school's history in 2021, then called for a discussion of it at the next alumni meeting. As a board member of the Fulton County Remembrance Coalition, Jones constantly advocated for the college to formally recognize Hubert and educate both students and alumni about his story. 'It's personal, it's painful, and … oftentimes it's a scary thing, because some persons have nightmares about it once they hear this kind of history,' Jones said. 'But it is something that must be discussed, must be highlighted.' The lack of awareness about the tragedy – even among Morehouse graduates – made the college's tribute that much more meaningful, Tyler and Jones said. 'It was extraordinarily significant and compelling, and something that I am exceedingly proud of my alma mater for doing – telling a story that had not been told in the public domain as it needed to be,' Tyler said. With the long-overdue recognition, '(Hubert's) memory will continue to inspire a new generation of Morehouse Men to serve with courage, speak truth to power, and uphold the ideals of equity and moral leadership in their respective callings,' a Morehouse College spokesperson said in a statement. Morehouse had approached El-Amin about the decision to award Hubert a degree a year and a half ago and initially planned to recognize Hubert last year, he said. Morehouse's faculty and students had nominated Hubert for the honorary degree, according to the college president. 'We remember the son who should have become a man here. We remember the voice that would have preached liberation. We remember the dreamer who was never given the chance to dream aloud,' Thomas said at the ceremony. El-Amin believes the school's decision to honor Dennis was influenced by the work of the Fulton County Remembrance Coalition and the Equal Justice Initiative to memorialize Hubert along with other lynching victims. The organizations in 2021 collected soil from the site of Hubert's killing – now the Crogman School Lofts apartment complex – and placed a marker there in his honor in 2022. A group of Morehouse students who attended the 2022 commemoration joined hands, encircled the memorial marker and sang the 'Dear Old Morehouse' hymn in Hubert's honor, Tyler recalled. 'Ninety-five years later, people are conscious of his life, which means he's still alive, though not here with us physically or in body, but his life, his will, and he is providing inspiration for those of us left behind,' El-Amin said. Such memorials may help educate future generations and prevent the return of past injustices, community members said. They're especially important today 'when there's such a hostility in some spaces to learning the history of struggle and violence against Black people,' Stevenson, of the Equal Justice Initiative, said. 'We can see that those very, very terrible times are not that far away and can easily come back,' El-Amin said.
Yahoo
20-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Morehouse College Graduation: Celebrating Brotherhood and Black Excellence
(Photos by Ari Skin) An African drum procession. Fraternity members barking in celebration. Black kings adjusting each other's proverbial crowns. There's no graduation quite like Morehouse College's commencement — a spectacular array of pageantry that marks the matriculation of hundreds of Black men every year and reinforces the HBCU's status as a beacon of Black excellence. The all-male college based in the West End binds together its graduates — notables which include Martin Luther King Jr., former Atlanta Mayor Maynard Jackson, and Academy Award-winning director Spike Lee — under the guiding principles of brotherhood, intellectual curiosity, and dignity. And since 1867, its graduation ceremonies have hammered home that idea. 'Being a Morehouse man is bigger than just being successful in your career,' said Darius Martin, a newly graduated 24-year-old who majored in finance. 'You got to be a pillar in your community … a man of integrity, a man of consequence.' Scroll through some of the moments captured during Morehouse College's commencement ceremony Sunday. Sunday's ceremony featured a keynote address from theologian Cornel West, and honorary degrees were bestowed on Oscar-nominated filmmaker Ava DuVernay and the school's president, David A. Thomas. A posthumous degree was awarded to the family of Dennis T. Hubert, a Morehouse student that was lynched by a white mob in Atlanta in the 1930s. Capital B Atlanta was on hand to capture the sights and sounds of Morehouse's 141st College Commencement on Sunday, celebrating a class of 511 graduates. The men find themselves leaving campus life during an uncertain time, marked by shifting national politics, federal job cuts, and an economy that some economists say signals an impending recession. But each graduate who spoke with Capital B Atlanta following the ceremony expressed faith that they were prepared. 'I've never been a person that backs down from a challenge,' said Caleb Weaver, a 23-year-old business administration major from Washington, D.C. 'We gonna, you know, walk in — chin up, chest out — and we're gonna face whatever is coming.' The commencement began outdoors on Morehouse's main campus, as school faculty members, playing African drums, led a procession of graduates clad in black caps and gowns to their seats on the yard. The Morehouse Glee Club sang 'Lift Every Voice and Sing' before the ceremony moved indoors to the Martin Luther King Jr. International Chapel due to rain and lightning. 'Once again, we have proven that rain don't stop the 'House,' Thomas said as attendees filled the hallowed hall. Thomas and Provost Kendrick Brown (right) honor co-valedictorians Elijah Walker (second from left) and Colin Royal. 'Nothing is arbitrary,' Walker said in an address to his classmates. 'Act with intention, and from a place of right.' Darius Martin's post-commencement look — cowboy hat and belt buckle — nodded to his Texas roots. The San Antonio native called the day bittersweet as he reflected on his journey up to now: transferring schools, bonding with classmates, and experiencing family loss. He memorialized his mother, Angel Martin, via a framed photo and artwork. Seth Mutenda (third-from-right) watched with pride as his youngest brother, Enosh (center), earned his bachelor's degree in economics surrounded by brilliant Black men who look like him — a far cry from their Tokyo upbringing. 'We were never really surrounded by Black excellence like this,' the 25-year-old told Capital B Atlanta of his 22-year-old sibling, who was a founding member of Morehouse's soccer club. 'Seeing him really cherish that and take that to heart and kind of live that experience … it's been really cool to see him really change from that and be proud of his Blackness.' A young boy tries on a graduation cap after commencement ends, perhaps envisioning his own future as a Morehouse Man. Morehouse football tight end Colby Anthony Bell (right) holds a cigar alongside teammate and fellow graduate Cai Teague, a marketing major. Bell, a communications major from Los Angeles who transferred to Morehouse in 2023, said he believes his experience prepared him for corporate America. 'I'm a junior college guy, so I had to get it out the mud,' he said, adding he's excited about the job he has lined up: working in tech sales at the restaurant commerce platform Toast. 'Today is a culmination of my hard work and effort.' The post Morehouse College Graduation: Celebrating Brotherhood and Black Excellence appeared first on Capital B News - Atlanta.
Black America Web
16-05-2025
- Politics
- Black America Web
Prophesy Deliverance—Why Morehouse Men Need To Hear From Dr. Cornel West
Dr. Marlon Millner pictured with Dr. Cornel West. Photo courtesy of Dr. Marlon Millner In the coming days, I will return to the red clay hills of Georgia to gather and celebrate hundreds of Black men who will graduate from Morehouse College, the nation's only historically Black college or university dedicated to serving male-identified Black students. It will be an especially momentous occasion—and not just because I will celebrate my 30th reunion as a proud 1995 graduate. The moment matters because graduates, families, faculty, and alumni alike will be challenged by a compelling and critically insightful commencement address by Dr. Cornel West. Dr. West is one of our nation's leading public intellectuals and a scholarly activist. There might not be a better person for this moment than Dr. West. With his longstanding commitments to social analysis, historical understanding, cultural criticism, political engagement, and progressive faith, West offers both a personal and public narrative of human maturation that my young, newly minted brothers will need for this critical moment in our world. When I was at Morehouse, some of the most important books I read were not books for classes, but books I read on my own. The authors that gripped me included poets and Black arts scholars Haki Madhabuti and the late Nikki Giovanni, theologian, the late James Cone, Black feminist, the late bell hooks, esteemed legal scholar and civil rights activist, the late Derrick Bell, and perhaps most importantly, Dr. Cornel West. I recall denying another Morehouse student their copy of a required course text by buying Race Matters in the campus bookstore. As a freshman, I eagerly read this book by the Union Theological Seminary professor, then on his way to Harvard University. My mind, heart and vocabulary all expanded as West grappled with a set of ideas, social practices, and the historical unfolding of the intractable hegemonic conditions of political subjugation, economic exploitation, moral degradation, and cultural dehumanization, which produced the nihilistic conditions of lovelessness, meaninglessness and hopelessness for so many Black people—then and now. Cornel West visited Morehouse in 1992, and he was honored by the college. He signed my book: 'Stay strong in the struggle, dear brother!' Those words compelled me to years of study, service, and struggle at Morehouse. West's book framed for me a life of the mind, committed to being a Black prophetic Christian intellectual rooted in grassroots movements, solidarity with other marginalized people, and deep and broad democratic commitments to serve, empower, and enable all to thrive with human dignity and possibility. While Race Matters may be West's best-known book, one of his earliest, Prophesy Deliverance! An Afro-American Revolutionary Christianity , might be his most important and most compelling for this moment. A year ago, I openly criticized my beloved alma mater for inviting then-sitting President Joseph R. Biden to deliver the commencement address and to receive an honorary degree. In an open letter to faculty, asking them to vote to deny the president an honorary degree, I said, 'When I studied at and graduated from Morehouse College in 1995, I was deeply shaped by the lives of former President Benjamin Elijah Mays, and alums Rev. Dr. Howard Thurman and Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. While Morehouse monumentalizes those persons on campus, there is no better monument to their lives at this moment than the moral courage to challenge a sitting United States president.' Those words, true then, are especially true now that Donald Trump has been re-elected president. Source: Pacific Press / Getty Cornel West has been one of the most consistent and compelling voices highlighting America's ongoing complicity in the triple evils Dr. King identified as racism, militarism, and hypercapitalism. Dr. West, in his own 2024 bid for the presidency, engaged in a campaign of truth, justice, and love. He boldly condemned the killing and capturing of hundreds of Israeli citizens by Hamas, and the United States' unilateral arming of Israel to prosecute a war beset with atrocities of killing tens of thousands of Palestinian non-combatants, and displacing and starving hundreds of thousands of others. West predicted that centrist civility and pandering to the middle class would not protect us from the rise of jingoistic, xenophobic, anti-Black economic oligarchy and state violence at home and abroad. More than 40 years ago in Prophesy Deliverance! , West told Black intellectuals and especially Christian theologians that if inclusion of the Black middle-class into a structurally racist capitalist economy and a racially constrained democracy was all we were seeking, we needed to long ago stop calling our training, leading, serving, and studying 'liberation.' After hearing from the apex of American power a year ago and seeing just how damaging that display of power has been, Morehouse Men would do well to listen to an organic intellectual from the streets of Sacramento, Calif., and the pews of the Black Baptist church; one who knows that success without sacrifice, money without morals, intellect without integrity, and power without empowering all may make these newly minted Morehouse Men mighty, but not worthy of our so-called mystique. Though Dr. West is not a Morehouse Man, like Dr. Mays, he has indelibly shaped Morehouse Men. He has taught, mentored, or influenced intellectuals like the esteemed Morehouse trustee and Black Studies and Religion scholar Dr. Eddie Glaude, and Harvard Divinity School scholar, Dr. Terrence Johnson. A bevy of Morehouse preachers were impacted by his years of teaching at Union, Harvard and Princeton, including such important prophetic voices as Morehouse trustee and pastor of Mt. Ennon Baptist Church of Maryland, Rev. Dr. Delman Coates; pastor of Olivet Institutional Baptist Church of Cleveland, Rev. Dr. Jawanza Colvin; pastor of the historic Abyssinian Baptist Church of New York City, Rev. Dr. Kevin Johnson; and pastor of the sanctuary of the civil rights movement, the Ebenezer Baptist Church of Atlanta, U.S. Senator Rev. Dr. Raphael Warnock. Beyond Morehouse, one only needs to recall 2014 when Michael Brown lay dead in the streets of Ferguson, Mo., killed by a racist rogue cop, as clergy and activists descended. New leaders emerged in the name of #BlackLivesMatter: Alicia Garza, Patrisse Cullors, Opal Tometi, Michael McBride, Traci Blackmon, Starsky Wilson, and Charlene Carruthers, among many others. And early on, locking arms in solidarity, but not seeking the spotlight was Dr. Cornel West. Now, as an elder, senior scholar, veteran activist, and decades long dedicated progressive Christian, this humble brother can help let the voice of the suffering, marginalized, locked up, left out, and least of these speak—so that in a new generation of Morehouse Men, we can understand that our mystique remains in a moral tradition, ever expanding and evolving, challenging us to grow deep roots, and produce bountiful fruit of justice, love and equity. Dr. Marlon Millner is a visiting assistant professor of Religion and African American Studies at Wesleyan University, and a 1995 graduate of Morehouse College. SEE ALSO: Dear Old Morehouse: Can We Not With Cornel West? The Tragic Case of Rodney Hinton Jr. And The Trauma Of Black Grief In America SEE ALSO Prophesy Deliverance—Why Morehouse Men Need To Hear From Dr. Cornel West was originally published on Black America Web Featured Video CLOSE
