Chasing the Light

Chasing the Light: An Extended Answer to the question:"Why Fort Valley State University?"
By: Nikki Byrom

Fort Valley State University wasn’t my first choice. Tulane University was. I was going to relocate to the middle of Louisiana, soaking up the culture, the atmosphere, the knowledge, and become a “great somebody” with a degree from a school other than the one that almost everyone in my family had attended. But alas, I was shipped off to Fort Valley State University to do my undergraduate time. I rebelled. All of my friends were going to Albany State or Valdosta or the University of Georgia, and I was being “stuck” in Fort Valley, thirty five minutes away from my hometown. Great!

I can definitely say that for at least 3 semesters, I was in the university family but not of the university family. I complained about little things, like having to walk from Davison Hall to the Computer Technology & Mathematics building for my 8 A.M. Pre-Calculus class, or the food in the cafeteria. I was so caught up in not wanting to be here that I didn’t allow myself the opportunity to actually take in what I was experiencing. Don’t get me wrong, I had plenty of fun and found ways to enjoy myself. My older friends (who were also FVSU alumni) would come and pick me up and show me around campus or scream at me during the football games. I was in the band, but I had no school spirit. I had band spirit. I wore the symbols, the tee shirts, the lanyards, the hats, but I was quick to say “My family made me come here. It’s tradition.” Thinking back on it now makes my brow furrow because of my ignorance. I realize I was like the people in Plato's Allegory of the Cave. I was being a real brat about the whole thing! I couldn't understand that what I was seeing was not the reality of Fort Valley State University. What I saw were just shadows of my experience.
I held on to this ignorance for three entire semesters and felt that I would be this way forever, that I would never love FVSU like my family and friends did. And that indeed was the case until the end of the fall semester of my sophomore year. I was friends with a girl that attended the University of Georgia and was about to graduate. While home one weekend, she gave me a call just to see how things were going. So I told her about all the things that were wrong with Fort Valley and how I still kind of wanted to be somewhere else. She then said, “See, that’s why I couldn’t have gone to a black school. And especially not Fort Valley.”

WHOA! Wait a minute. What’s wrong with black schools? I attend a black school. And I’m smarter than you. And most of the people in my classes are smarter than you. So what exactly are you trying to say? I couldn’t continue the conversation because I was so dumbfounded. More than dumbfounded, I was swimming in a sea of emotions. How could she say that about my school? That’s when it hit me, I had become a Wildcat.

Fort Valley State University is an 1895 land grant institution in the University System of Georgia. It is the second largest public university (acreage) in the state of Georgia and boasts a student population representing 130 of the 159 counties in Georgia, over 30 states and, 10 countries. The school started as a High and Industrial school and later combined with the State Teachers and Agricultural College of Forsyth to become Fort Valley State College in 1939. In 1996, the institution became Fort Valley State University. In his book Light in the Valley: A Pictorial History of Fort Valley State College since 1895, writer and historian Donnie D. Bellamy chronicles the university’s rise from the basement of a church to the campus we now know and love. Looking through its pages, I’ve gained a greater respect for this university and now feel honored to walk its halls. It’s about more than just buildings and their varied forms of architecture. No, we don’t have the columns and gargoyles that Ivy League schools boast, but for the most part, the older buildings on our campus were raised from the ground through the blood, sweat, and tears of the students, faculty, and community members. They were bound and driven by a desire to see the black children of the area in an environment that nurtured their aptitude and prepared them for a life greater than the one that was expected of them. Therein lies our prestige, our r'aison d'être. The opportunity to attend Brown or Harvard did not exist for students like my grandmother, who came from a small rural area. Their choices were limited to Fort Valley State, Albany State, or other Historically Black Colleges or Universities. We created our own opportunity. Out of this quiet, unassuming place the greatest minds are molded and cultivated through tests, trials and triumphs and seek to illuminate the world and change the state of Black America and the entire world. And with us comes the attitude: You don't have to give me anything; I'll make my own way.

There is something to be said about the experience one has as a student at a Historically Black College or University. There’s unquestionably a greater sense of camaraderie and community than at other schools. I asked a few of my alumni friends to share with me the highlights of their years here. What I basically got was an hour or so of memories, history and achievement. I was told that there were no words to describe the experience. And these friends had gone on to attend other schools in their post graduate studies, but always felt that Fort Valley was home. Homecoming is huge at most schools, but at an HBCU, it’s more like a family reunion. People come in from everywhere with their best to show each other and the world around them that Fort Valley State is the place to be. During the 2005 Homecoming festivities, I was in class having a discussion with one of my professors about traditions here at FVSU. Here’s an excerpt from a blog entry that I wrote about the conversation: (lower case letters are intentional)
…this morning, i went to class to prove a point to myself. i asked my professor if he was going to kickoff at noon and he said that because he didn't like football, he wouldn't be in attendance. i told him that kickoff had little to do with football, it had more to do with the university coming together to officially begin the homecoming festivities. it's a chance for everybody to get together, laugh and have a pretty decent time. it's like a family meeting before the reunion. he complained that it cancelled classes and that it should be held after classes like most pep rallies are. first of all, it's not a pep rally. not in the traditional sense. and secondly, the football team, band and cheerleaders have practice in the evenings, so why delay their practice when we could hold classes off so that everyone could attend if they wanted to. then he had a flashback to his high school days and we got a long lecture about how he couldn't really play football and blah, blah, blah. and then he talked about how he hates that graduations here have so many prayers in them and that it violates his constitutional rights to have to sit through them (attendance at commencement is mandatory for faculty members) but he'd rather not say anything for whatever reason.

my point was that if he were anywhere else, he'd make a conscious effort to attend the homecoming festivities because he wanted to. i think there's a definite disrespect and lack of understanding going on amongst some of our faculty members that are not of color. and i'm not saying they're bigots cause i've already said that elsewhere. what i'm saying is, if i were teaching somewhere else, i'd try to understand the culture i was surrounded by, not dismiss something that's important to that group simply because i don't think it's important or i choose to believe differently. but then again, that speaks to the duality of life that Carter G. Woodson talks about in The Miseducation of the Negro. we're expected to want to attend their festivities in addition to ours and not feel slighted by any of their customs or traditions, but it's their choice whether or not our customs and traditions “make sense”. if you don't want to be here, to participate to try to understand, then well... uhm...uh... if the totality of your experience on this campus is to further your research to beef up your vita, pick up the paycheck you complain about every month, scoff at our traditions and customs, spew your bigotry laden "lectures" to these poor, ignorant, black kids who probably won't graduate anyway... if you don't think it's important to stop once a year to pay homage to the people who built this school and pray for it's prosperity... maybe you should just leave.

So yeah… I was a little angry. But Wildcats, it’s important that we stand up for this university. In every way. Not just because we’re black students at an HBCU. We’re saying it because 111 years ago, some concerned citizens got together and said “Our children need to learn.” Who are we to tolerate someone standing on this hallowed ground making a mockery of everything our founders worked hard to build and that our presidents, professors, and financial backers strived to maintain? We have customs and traditions that mean something. I've heard our customs referred to as "quaint" and "aw isn't that cute" descriptions. But it's not cute. It's symbolic. It means something greater than anyone on the outside looking in can understand. When I graduate, I want to turn around and shake the hand of the graduate behind me. I want to congratulate all on a job well done.
"Congratulations such and such, you have completed a degree program designed to make you a competitor in a world hell bent on destroying you. You have made a concerted effort to exact change in your life and in the lives of those around you. You have embarked on a journey that will lead you to great reward if you choose to use the tools given to you by your professors. You beat the odds and silenced any nay sayers that prophesied that you would be nothing. You are a college graduate. You have seen the light."

I am chasing the light. I am chasing the dream of every person whose name is called on Founders’ Day. I’ve made my share of mistakes here, but who hasn’t? All made me a better woman, student, scholar; person. I am chasing degrees in the discipline of English Language Studies and Literature like there is no tomorrow because, for all practical purposes, there is no tomorrow. Being a student at this university has given me a greater sense of self, and I can honestly say that I am trying my best to come back here to teach in the Horace Mann Bond Building when I receive my Doctorate. Opportunity knocked and then ran as soon it heard me coming to answer the door. I’ve been chasing the light ever since.