Looking to the Future

Anthony Harris
Opinions Editor

I write this article as I prepare for a trip to Memphis to commemorate the assassination of famed alumnus, Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. As 20 Questions noted last week, it is odd that we are commemorating a death, but I get to go to on a weekend trip for twenty bucks so I don’t have much of a problem with it. But as I pack for this mini-vacation, I can’t help but think about the parallels before me.

I’ve been freaking out lately thinking about the future. I have 38 days left (yes, the countdown still moves on) and other than sleep, I don’t quite know what I’m doing on Day 39. I can bet there are those around here who have their lives set for themselves. They have internships in the summer, big jobs, and graduate schools after they graduate. Even those who don’t even have to think about these sorts of things for years down the line can have some sense of security.

But when you get right down to it, we’re all really lost. When Morehouse tells us we are men, they seem to leave out the perpetual hardship of being a man. I’m not blaming this on Morehouse (for once), but I’m just talking about the daily trials of being a man.

I spent the last four years trying my best not to ask my parents for anything in the semblance of security, but I’ve had a meal plan everyday. I’ve had a steady job that ensures I have whiskey in moderation, but it’s certainly not a living wage. I avoid using credit, but I can never manage to save money. And while I’m honestly better at it than any other time in my life, I can never quite get social skills down.

When I first matriculated into this college (because the Oxford English Dictionary defines “matriculate” as “senses relating to enrolment,” not as some sort of enrichment process), I heard many a tale of how Morehouse would make a man out of me. While this school may have played a part, I can only be thankful that life has taught me so many lessons overall.

I’ve had good home training, but living in Atlanta has shown I have to apply the lessons my parents have taught me. I learned to write in high school, but I learned to write better and more succinctly in college. I memorized a lot of Biblical doctrine from Rev. Dr. R. L. Archield back in at Friendship Baptist Church in San Antonio, TX, but it all helps in how I interpret Rev. Dr. Aaron Parker’s sermons every Sunday at Zion Hill Baptist Church here in Atlanta.

I came here not to become a man but to become a better man. I did not just become the man that Morehouse has shaped me to be, but Morehouse in the auspice of life has taught me a great deal about responsibility. Yet while I think about all I have learned over the years, I’m still freaked out about the future.

Do I have doubts about what it will be like when I enter the world for real this time? Of course. Did I not plan as much as I should have? More than likely. Do I have enough knowledge, talent, and faith in God that I won’t end up homeless? Probably. Am I sure? No.

But is anyone really sure? I’m scared… frightened about my future. In time, maybe this feeling will pass. But when anyone passes me and is amused by my wonderful parlor trick of counting each hour, minute, and second until I graduate, also take note of the trembling I feel as I realize how each second that passes is a moment closer to being pushed from the tattered security blanket that is Morehouse College.


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