Once upon a time ago, as a member of the Harvard Club of New Jersey, I attended one of our dinner parties/meetings where I experienced what I can now gladly conclude: illustrative of Senator Cory Booker's state of mind in this video.
Now, let's talk about the party.
After the usual tete-a-tete and meeting with other guests, we were seated. I had a couple of African American gentlemen and their wives on the same table with me that seated about ten of us. On my right-hand side, was seated the Vice President of the Club, a Caucasian lady. Coincidentally, most of us were served baked salmon fish, and green beans.
When the food came, my salmon was unusually bigger than what I noticed on the plate of the other guests around me. Feeling uncomfortable, I come to take a corner eye look at the plate of the Vice President, my brother, my own big pass wetin I see for her plate.
And when the dining was progressing, I realized that a particular hostess was paying me unusual attention. Now and then, she would bend over to ask if I was okay, and I would nod and say thank you. She didn't stop topping my glass of wine throughout the dinner.
At a point, I became apprehensive of something unfathomable. I hope they are not taking me for a celebrity or someone else, I was soliloquizing. And as I was doing justice to my sumptuous meal, I come dey take corner eye dey spy around to see if there is any hidden camera somewhere. I couldn't fathom anything unusual.
Later, I saw a gentleman, their manager, walking around to ensure all was well. Later, our eyes met. And simultaneously, both of us gave the Black salute, as if it was planned. To the uninitiated, the Black salute is cultural among Black gentlemen and it involves taking a bow or simply nodding your head as a form of courtesy greeting when you walk by another Black dude on the street.
Having worked in Manhattan, New York for many years, I became so familiar with the Black salute. The uniqueness of the greeting is that only the two of you can notice it. But your eyes must meet to be able to register the greeting or salute. Most often, you can bow and just simply say "sup" for What sup.
Looking at the Manager, though a finely built Black gentleman, he didn't look like a Black American, but more like a gentleman from one of the countries in the Caribbean Islands. When the meal was over and the guest started walking around, greeting, and exchanging contacts, I came on one with the guy.
We greeted her, and from his accent, I was right. He was from the Caribbean Island. I told him I was an African from Nigeria. He said I know that the moment I first saw you walk in. And he went ahead to tell me how excited he was to see me here among all these great guys. And before I could ask why, he said: "We don't normally see guys like you with them each time they come around." Hearing that, emotion took the best part of me.
So, he was behind that special treat that I received, I told myself. And I thanked him for taking good care of me and the other guest.
As a student, in most of the ten classes I took for my graduation, I was the only black guy in class. So, it is understandable to me why the Manager and the hostesses don't always see guys like me when the alumni members are in town for a meeting.
I asked him if he has grown-up kids, and he replied yes, adding that they are in High School. And I told him to start reminding them every day that going to Harvard is not for only White guys. He said, I am so glad that you came over to meet with me; I'm going to tell them about you when I get home. And I replied, great.
A few years later, I learned a big lesson from my encounter with my Black Restaurant Manager. It dawned on me why Harvard University promotes diversity and why the Harvard Club in all the cities I have stayed or worked (New Jersey, New York, Denver, and Dallas), thought it honorable and diligent to welcome me to my new city and never wavered in sending me a membership application.
I didn't stay or work in Dallas but in Houston. Surprisingly, it was the Harvard Club of Dallas that sent me a welcome package, including a membership application. Denver was unbelievable; I was there as a student, but the Harvard Club did send me a welcome package as well as a membership application.
It is not about me, it's about the promotion of diversity. Not necessarily what I can use my Harvard connection to do for myself in America, but how I can use it to inspire or impact the lives of other children who look like me or who come from a certain background or share my circumstances.
In other words, I am in a unique position; those kids who are comfortable interacting with me, might not be so comfortable meeting with my fellow White alumni colleagues to express their thoughts and desires about Harvard. It's about accessibility.
Here is a Black Restaurant Manager, overtly excited to serve a young Black Harvard alumnus from Africa. The sumptuous meal notwithstanding, it wasn't me who benefited, it was the Alumni Association that created the environment - a diverse environment - that made the contact between me and the Black Restaurant Manager possible. And that's the spirit of Harvard University.
What that man felt, the psychological and emotional upliftment is what Senator Cory Booker is feeling right now - an African American jurist, a mother, a sister, holding herself high, unruffled, despite the unnecessary hostility from Senator Ted Cruz and his right-wing gang.
What the Cory Booker speech on the floor of the US Senate and my Black Restaurant Manager's "special care for me" represent is celebrating the success story of others like them in strange places, despite all the odds.
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