Day 1

It's over.

It's been more than 24 hours since I received my degree from Morehouse College. Commencement has commenced -- and ended. The family has come and gone, the degree has been conferred. Five years of delayed gratification has culminated in one poignant and exhilarating ultimate. And as I sit here, champagne in one hand and a tear-stained cheek in the other, it’s all I can think:

It's over.
College is over.
Morehouse is over.

The late nights laughing it up with roommates when I should have been studying. Conversations & debates with brothers at the Brown Street polis. Drunken nights at football games, house parties…well, drunken nights. Fried Chicken Wednesday. Miss Maroon & White. SGA Spring Elections. Hump Wednesday. Jazzman’s.

Most everything that’s mattered to me for the last five years –

It’s over.

Graduation was nothing less than a celebration for me – no tears, few frowns, and mostly smiles. I was happy that I had finally finished, and even happier that I am now finally able to start the next grand phase of my life’s journey. Now, just a little over a day after I’ve graduated from my alma mater, I am hit with a rush of sorrow and nostalgic sentiment. Not only am I no longer a Morehouse College student, but I will never be a student at Morehouse again. Ever. And while there’s definitely a hint of the recognition of passing time and my own mortality that are informing my present state of mind, what’s making me the most upset – by far – is the emerging realization that my undergraduate years, undoubtedly the best years of my life, are forever gone with little hope of being accurately mimicked – the Morehouse experience is too authentic and unique to be imitated or mocked by any other entity.

As a good friend recently put it, “Morehouse, for better and surely for worse, is home.” I’ve taken my last walk through campus as a Man of Morehouse, with brothers with whom I’ve matriculated that I will very probably never see or hear from again. And now…now I am charged to leave home and pave my own way – a trailblazing path of excellence for myself that my brothers behind me can maximize and the world can optimize.

All I want to do is crawl back in my bed in 305 Brazeal and wait for my chance to experience the magic all over again. But while I realize that I’ll always have the Mystique, I also understand that Morehouse now belongs to the new breed. Certainly, if home is where the heart is, then my residence will always lay at 830 Westview Drive, SW.

With all of its flaws, promise, challenges, growth, fuck-ups and triumphs, I love and will always love Morehouse College. For everything it is. For everything it has made me. The last five years of my life – complete with pain, struggle, joy and victory – have been beyond great. I feel blessed and privileged to have experienced the people I’ve meet, the friends I’ve love, the memories I’ve made and the lessons I’ve learned in this short time. And now…

It’s over.

It’s sad, scary even – to be on the cusp of great change. But I recognize it too as good and necessary. Sure, without change there’s no heartache – but there’s no progress, either. And Morehouse Men are neither stagnant nor mediocre.

So, I’m going to wipe the tears of sorrow from my face and instead raise my chalice in toast to Dear Old Morehouse – my first love, whom I’ll always remember and have a fond place in my heart for. Thank you for making me steadfast, honest, and true. I will never forget your wisdom, your guidance, your legacy or your beauty...

I will never forget I am a Morehouse Man. I’m very much looking forward to the next time I come home to visit my mother and brothers.

It’s over – but the journey has just begun.