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NEWS
INSIDE MOREHOUSE, APRIL/MAY 2009
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Inside Morehouse are those
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of the College.
MY WORD
Children Suffer From Injustice
By Unequal Schools
BY JONATHAN WALL
(Wall’s guest editorial appeared in
the Atlanta Journal Constitution on
April 20, 2009)
Recently, I was a judge at Georgia
Mathfest, an event where more than
5,000 kids engaged in mathematical
activities, games and all-around fun.
One of the main events was
math-bate, a combination of math
and debate in which teams were
given scenarios and had to analyze
and solve them mathematically.
They also had to think critically
about the various situations and
apply reasoning and logic. Once
they solved a scenario, they gave a
presentation in front of me and a
fellow Morehouse brother. While we
scored them based on the correct
ness of their math, most of the
points derived from their ability to
explain their reasoning and the gen
eral fluidity of their presentation.
What we witnessed in our many
hours judging events was disheartening.
Inequalities in education and the
underlying factors are something
that I’ve always been passionate
about understanding. Going to
predominantly white schools for
grades k-8, and a predominantly
black school for grades 9-12 helped
me see more clearly the dividing line
of educational quality. At Mathfest, I
saw the overwhelming disparities
that now plague America’s public
schools.
Of the 20 teams on each grade
level, about 15 were completely Cau
casian/Asian/Non African American,
two or three were all African Ameri
can. Only two or three were a mix.
There were tremendous gaps in the
speaking and reasoning ability of the
African American groups. The Cau
casian/Asian groups would stand in
front of us with confidence and
pride, using immense vocabularies
consisting of words far beyond what
I thought the average kid their
age understood.
The African American groups
were significantly less prepared, get
ting a majority of the problems
wrong and having one or two stu
dents do the talking while the others
just stood there. Not because they
didn’t want to speak, but because
they didn’t know the information.
Some even struggled to read the in
structions. The intended fun of the
event was not felt by these students.
The mathbate was just another ex
ercise in which they saw their Cau
casian peers outperform and win.
Being a judge, I had an obligation
to fairness, impartiality and neu
trality. I would search for reasons to
give the African American groups a
few extra points, so the scores would
look respectable, but my searches
came back empty. I didn’t quite re
alize to the full extent what I was
witnessing until the event was over
and the winners had been crowned.
I can’t even begin to describe the
feelings and thoughts that raced
through my heart and mind as I
walked group after group to the
podium to be awarded their first
place plaques. Of the 40 individual
winners, only three were black. And
two were on the same team.
It troubles me that America’s pub
lic schools (and private, but that’s an
other situation) are still unequal and
lack not only diversity, but equality
in the distribution of resources.
Some try to blame it on the intellec
tual capacity of the kids, but that is
not the case. There is no reason for
“There is no reason for
there to be such a wide
gap in the academic
skill set of students...”
there to be such a wide gap in the ac
ademic skill-set of students in the
same grade in the same state.
Disproportionate education is
injustice. Everything starts with a
foundation, the roots if you will.
Elementary/middle schools are the
roots from which we sprout up dur
ing high school, college and life.
When a root isn’t getting the proper
nutrients that it needs to grow, it
shrivels. It may be harsh, but if we
don’t make a change, this is what will
continue to happen to generation
after generation of our youth. There
has got to be a better way. And we are
all in charge of finding it. ■
Jonathan Wall wants to be a civil
rights attorney.
The Lesson in My Name
BY MANSA BILAL MARK KING
W e can learn a lot from a
name. In the best of
African traditions, a per
son’s name tells you about her or his
life journey and/or life purpose. My
parents named me Mark Alexander
King.
Mark was a disciple of Jesus and
thus a man of faith. For my family,
though, Mark was also the son of
“The Rifleman” (a 1960s television
western). My father was an expert
marksman in the Army. So, he is the
“Rifleman” and I am his son.
And Mark is Greek for “strong
defender.” Alexander was a Greek
ruler and empire builder.
With my surname, King, we
again find this connotation of a de
fender of people or a conqueror.
The best war a king can wage,
though, is against his lower self. To
neglect the internal war while rul
ing over others invites any king to
tyranny. Such is the calling of the
names given to me by my parents.
After I embraced Islam, I released
one name and added two new ones.
Again, following African traditions,
I did not release my name entirely I
added to it. Through this practice,
African names tell the story of a
person.
So, my story continues with
names from Islamic Africa. Mansa
is the Mandinka word for “ruler” or
“king.” Most of us have heard of the
Mansa named Musa. On his pil
grimage to Mecca, he gave away so
much gold in charity that it hurt the
Northeast African economy. This
was just one Mansa who ruled Mali.
Today Mali is rising again be
cause of the Timbuktu papers.
These priceless treasures give voice
to the indigenous, literate Muslim
scholars who lived in West Africa’s
scholarship centers for nearly 1,000
years. Today, the inheritors of these
manuscripts often live in impover
ished conditions. Yet, analyses of the
papers have already begun to
connect African American non
violence traditions to West African
non-violence traditions. That is,
they connect the Rev. Martin
Luther King Jr. ‘48 to the Mansa-
supported scholars of West Africa’s
Golden Age.
Finally, there is Bilal, the name I
ask friends to call me. Bilal lived in
Arabia. However, he was from
Habesha, which is part of modern-
day Ethiopia. Bilal was one of the
first residents of Mecca to embrace
Islam. He did so despite being held
in slavery, or perhaps because of it.
The Islamic message on slavery
features equity requirements. These
include: feeding and clothing one’s
slaves as one eats and dresses; help
ing one’s slaves with their hard
work, and freeing slaves as atone
ment for sins. This requirement to
humanize slavery was among the
many elements of Islam that
induced fear among the Meccans,
who rejected the Islamic call to live
righteous lives.
Islam’s potential to establish a
just society seemed a threat to their
unbridled quest for political, eco
nomic, and status superiority. Bilal
embodied the political threat when,
instead of obeying his owner’s
command to whip a Muslim, he
embraced the faith, too.
Though he was tortured for his
disobedience, a wealthy Muslim
soon purchased Bilal and set him
free. Bilal spent the rest of his life as
a defender of justice and religious
freedom. He also became the first
muezzin, a person of great piety
who calls the Muslims to prayer. I
strive to have faith like Bilal did -
against all odds.
So, my ancient names tell stories
that are quite relevant today. I made
my name change legal after encoun
tering bureaucratic troubles. The
“separation of church and state”
does not (and cannot) prevent our
secular laws from regulating how
spirituality is expressed. But, that is
another chapter in the story of
my name. ■
Mansa Bilal Mark King is an assistant
professor of sociology.