Three weeks ago today, one of my two best friends from childhood — Alphonse Duane Edwards — died unexpectedly and too young.
Two weeks later, Duane’s mom called me to tell me that the other 1/3 — Curtis Jackson — had just passed as well, too young and unexpectedly.
And last night, I got robbed at gunpoint by four desperate young people trying to steal my car.
Everything about these first two tragic losses makes me want to give up. And everything about the third near-tragedy gives me a reason to keep going.
There’s one picture of me, Curtis, and Duane that I can see so clearly in my mind but that I just can’t find.
This is not how this was supposed to go.
One of the many connections that bound us together as childhood friends was the shared experience of not having our fathers in our lives. Too many of our other close friends shared this same connection. So we loved each other. We affirmed each other’s value. We spent time with each other. We had fun and caused trouble together. And now we were supposed to be investing together in the lives of our children so that they would experience a different reality than we had. I’m heartbroken for their children who are missing their fathers the way Curtis, Duane, and I were missing ours.
To all of these children who are mourning the losses of their fathers — for all of these bright, beautiful Black boys and girls, men and women — I want you to know that you matter and your lives matter. I want you to know that your fathers dreamt about you before you were born. We all did. I’m so sorry that they are no longer here to tell you, so I will: I know your fathers loved you. I knew your fathers and I saw their light. I didn’t know everything about them, but I saw their light. I wish I could celebrate and acknowledge that light by telling them once again that I love them.
But I can — we can — keep loving you, their children, even those of you who I have not yet met. Our love can keep encouraging you to live as if your life matters. Because it does!
The back story is that, just before I got that call from Duane’s mom — like literally moments before — I had just finished whispering a prayer of gratitude and commitment to God as I submitted my last applications to graduate school in physics. You see, I am a free negro — one of the three A-Nigros — and I had just commited to live like it. My commitment was to give each day my full effort despite my fears of falling short.
So if I were free, what would I do? Who would I be? If I were free, I would be an astrophysicist studying the mathematical laws that govern the physical universe, on earth and far beyond it. That’s what I’d do. That’s who I’d be. I would spend my life doing what lights me up: shining God’s light by delighting in the magic and mystery of the natural world.
So 25 years after graduating as the only Black student I saw in four years of math and physics classes at the same university that awarded the first PhD to a Black student in any subject in 1876 , I have decided to live as a free negro and to do what people do when they believe their life matters: I’m choosing to invest in what lights me up so that I can shine that light to those who have been left out.
So to all of our future Black scientists, artists, mothers, and fathers, what will you do with your one wild and precious life? What will you do? Who will you be?
Please keep shining the light that God intended you to shine. Live each day as if your life matters. Because it does!
For my part, I’m going to use my freedom to affirm the value of Black lives and other undervalued people by investing in their capacity to pursue and expand the wonder of science at the highest levels of study. God’s invitation for us to delight in the Universe is universal. It’s an invitation to all people, not just the privileged few. To affirm an individual’s right to more deeply pursue the magic and mystery of the natural world is one way to proclaim the value of their life. And I want to lower barriers to encountering the wonder of science among underrepresented and undervalued populations. The widespread presence of Black people doing and delighting in science will be just one indicator of our freedom and value in science and in society.
So I’m going to keep proclaiming our collective freedom and value by continuing to do more of this:
And as for the four young men who stole my groceries, my wallet, and who tried to steal my car…using my house keys…please pray for them. There’s nothing they took that can’t be replaced. (Matter fact, the only bag of groceries they left was the bag of milk, which is what I went to buy in the first place. I love my cereal. And maybe the fresh fruit they took will do them some good.)
People are desperate. These young people are desperate. As one of my former students used to say, “Times is hard, Mr. D!” Please keep investing in our communities and in our kids so that they no longer feel as if putting a gun in other people’s faces is their best and only option for getting ahead. Their lives matter, too.
