July 31, 2008
Ivy League Memoir: A Family Legacy
As a youngster, I used to listen to my mother tell me how she and her sister grew up in Ithaca, New York.
She was always talking about how pretty it was and would go on and on about the Finger Lakes and
the mountains. It always seemed weird to me since I grew up in the segregated south. I knew about New
York City (I thought that Harlem was the same as New York back then) and Brooklyn because I had heard that
a lot of Black folks lived there. Back then I figured that Black folks could not possibly live in places like that,
living that close to white people and such. On top of that it was too cold. Coming from Richmond, Virginia
this all seemed too strange for me. I could not really understand how Black folk could live that close to
white people.
As my mother told me more, I learned that my grandfather, who died before I was born, won a scholarship
to Cornell University back in the early 1900s. He stayed up there and married a beautiful woman whose
family was one of the few Black families in town. That was why my mother, the older of two sisters, was
born there in what I thought was a strange, far-away land. And though she is dead now, the romantic visions
of this cold life in a small quaint college town remain imbued within me.
Her father faced many challenges as one of the very few Black students at Cornell during that time.
Basically, all of the other Black students shared those challenges as well. I learned that he bonded
with a number of them and decided to start a Greek Letter fraternity. It seems at that time there were
no fraternities for Black students and assimilation into University life at Cornell was difficult. More than
the weather up there was cold.
Anyway, my grandfather and six of his fellow students were successful in founding the first Greek
Letter Fraternity, Alpha Phi Alpha in 1906. Back then Cornell was daunting; though admitted to study, it
was clear that students of color did not really belong or feel welcome in the community. At the same time
Greek Letter Fraternities were a key survival system for white men. They provided social bonding and
academic support for their members. Logically enough, Blacks could not join them back then. What
my grandfather and his friends, now affectionately and reverently known as the founding Jewels of Alpha
Phi Alpha, did must have been phenomenal. They were courageous enough to say that if we cannot join
the fraternities that make you feel welcome and supported at Cornell, then we need to form our own. There
had been an earlier effort to start a fraternity at Cornell for Black students that was unsuccessful, but
my grandfather and his friends were committed enough to make their goal a reality regardless of the sacrifice.
Alpha Phi Alpha now has members worldwide and boasts in its membership so many accomplished
Black men that it has truly set a proud tradition. There is so much good that can be said for the organization
that this article certainly cannot do it justice. If any readers want to know more I would invite them to visit
the Alpha Phi Alpha website, www.alphaphialpha.net.
In a twist of fate my grandfather seemed to have deeply influenced my fate when my opportunity to
attend college came. Oddly enough, Virginia’s resistance to integration gave me a strange break. The
state started to close schools and actually would pay for students to go to private schools out of
state. Ostensibly this was to help white students avoid the apparent curse of studying alongside Black folk.
My mother insisted that I apply to private schools and encouraged me to target New England boarding
schools in particular. Through this twist of fate, I earned a scholarship to the Phillips Exeter Academy and
got additional aid from the state of Virginia so that it cost my family very little for me to study there.
While Exeter was largely a culture shock for me, I survived and learned that smart and good people can
come from anywhere and any background. I got a good education and for the first time in my life learned to
live alongside whites, both rich and poor. It was academically challenging for me as a teenager from the
South but I survived. By the time I was ready to graduate, my mother was quite ill and was pleading with me
to target an Ivy League institution. Again I heeded her pleading but rebelled against the idea of Harvard.
Too many of my classmates were desperate; it seemed, for that chance. I was more influenced by a chance to get to a big city and found out that Columbia was in New York City and the University of Pennsylvania was in Philly. My idea of going to college was having the chance to hear live jazz and be bop in particular. Philly and New York were it for me. Fortunately, I got accepted to both. My mother thought for me. Without comment here, she obviously did not understand how Philly really was. But on the basis of her opinion I chose Penn.
Roll forward from Cornell in the early 1900s to Penn in the intense and radical sixties. I found out that not
a whole lot had changed. There still were not that many Black students attending Ivy League universities
in general and Penn in particular. You could walk around all day and not really see any. If you did it was
no more than one or two. I was blessed to have a Black roommate who was also my Exeter classmate
and one of my closest friends. I set up my own support system before I got there.
However, I quickly learned that we had gained admission but had not gained acceptance. Generally I found
that those Blacks who played varsity sports had a little more chance to get some level of acceptance based
on their athletic value and charisma. I also found out that among the few Blacks there, a number of them
came with high test scores but didn’t have the same level of preparation that I did. By my sophomore year
I noticed a lot of them were flunking out. They were often super bright, by any criteria, but they could not find
any sense that they were welcome in such an academically challenging environment.
By my junior year, I had met as many Black students as I could. My southern upbringing and
outgoing personality made me want to speak to every Black student that would speak back. I met a young
man who had come down from Harvard to study law. He told some of us that Harvard had underground
groups for Black students and that we should start one at Penn. We agreed and gathered in front of the
library where he staged a speech. After listening to him speak I decided that I disagreed with him because
his emphasis was on helping less fortunate people outside of the University instead of the students within
the university.
My contention was that too many of the students at Penn were having a hard time academically. It was not
that they were not smart enough or unwilling to work hard enough but that they just did not feel that it was
really their school. I argued that many of us just felt depressed and rejected at the University on a
community level and it made it that much more difficult to deal with what was already hard. Well, the
law student from Harvard quietly backed down and gave me the mike. Sometimes in retrospect I think he
set me up to do what I did. He may have been reading some Machiavelli or something.
Anyway, from my speech, the small group of students gathered anointed me to start a group. A student
from West Africa agreed to serve as Vice Chairman. Our purpose was sort of primal. We formed
the organization to help ourselves survive and graduate. Some resented that and viewed us as privileged
but did not understand how vulnerable we were and how dispensable we felt. Radicals invaded campus
when we had meetings and tried to make us feel guilty. Despite this, we formed a group called the Society
of African and African-American Students otherwise known as SAAS. It survived. It was a sixties solution to
the same problem I imagined and still imagine that my grandfather and his friends had at Cornell.
The formation of the group caused me some problems with the establishment at Penn but I survived
the turbulent times and graduated. This is ancient history now but Penn has grown to embrace Blacks
more aggressively than many schools now and SAAS evolved to become the Black Student League.
Not entirely like Alpha Phi Alpha, but in my own small way, I along with my fellow students who were
members of SAAS worked to keep the flame alive. Let us not see bright minds in people of
color underdeveloped, destroyed or embittered.
I feel a psychic connection to a grandfather whom I never met. I am grateful for his legacy and gift to me.
I hope this story helps us remember that we must remain vigilant and that those who came before us in
the struggle for rights and opportunities made it possible for us to have even higher expectations and
greater opportunities in the face of challenges.
My own thinking is that we should not rest too long to revel in the petty pleasures of luxury and success
that “integration” and equal opportunity has brought us largely on the backs of our ancestors. We must
commit to make sure that those students of color who are in higher education not only survive but excel.
We must help and encourage every student who wants to go to college to find a way to do so. Whether
Ivy League or not, Historically Black Colleges and Universities or not, we need to stay committed to
young people of color and build on the positive legacy.
Washington DC based Julian Conway Wilson Jr. is an educator and the grandson of Robert Harold Ogle, one of the seven Jewels who founded Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity Inc. He is currently working on a
book project about estranged fathers and family healing. This article was originally published in http://www.natcreole.com/, an online global urban culture magazine. Visit the site weekly for updated news, reviews, profiles, playlists, essays, travel journals, and upcoming events.
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