Though not a Tar Heel born, I will always love good ol’ N.C.

Throwback: This is one of my favorite columns I wrote when I was a back-page columnist for The Daily Tar Heel, UNC-Chapel Hill’s Pacemaker Award-winning daily newspaper.

There are few times that I recommend policy changes in the state or even dream of drafting legislation for the N.C. General Assembly. But I’m ready to drive over to Raleigh and beg for Sen. Ellie Kinnaird to sponsor an important bill for me. I want lawmakers to make me a real North Carolinian.

Although I’ve lived in Chapel Hill for three years, volunteered in the community, worked in town and voted here in the last election, I’m not considered a real Tar Heel because I’m an out-of-state student.

I’m doomed to be considered a second-rate citizen and an outsider, but I’d like to consider N.C. my home — not for a break on the $17,000 tuition bill, but because a lot of N.C. students take this University and this great state for granted.

I can’t count every time I’ve heard an in-state student express shame for being from here or comment how it’s not really an accomplishment to get into UNC unless you’re from another place. They apologize for Silent Sam, tobacco, cross burnings and Mike Krzyzewski, and understandably so.

But even though this state has its problems, all of its residents should keep in mind that things could be much worse — they could have been raised in Alabama, like me.

Sure, this state may have continuously elected Jesse Helms to the U.S. Senate, but Alabamians elected Governor George Wallace, a more public and outspoken bigot, four times. Plus, there are three Wallace Community Colleges in his honor, and he’s considered a hero.

Recently, Alabama slam-dunked in the backward contest by electing nut-job Judge Roy Moore as the state’s chief justice. Moore was removed from office because he defied a federal court order to remove a 5,300-pound granite monument to the Ten Commandments he put in the rotunda of the state judicial building.

Christian or not, you’d have to agree that it’s a crying shame when your chief justice doesn’t know enough about the law to realize he shouldn’t disobey a higher court. However, Moore is the frontrunner for the Republican nomination to the Governor’s Mansion, and I bet he’ll win it all.

Sure, the N.C. General Assembly has its problems — the fact that there’s no budget weeks before the fiscal year starts is proof of that, but Alabama runs on a 1901 constitution designed to disfranchise blacks, poor whites and women.

It is the longest known constitution in the world with 743 amendments including provisions on bingo, catfish, soybeans, dead farm animals, mosquitoes, prostitution and beaver tails. It also places the tax burden on the poorest families, instead of the rich.

North Carolina should be thankful that it has mostly fair laws, pretty good legislators, and a strong Institute of Government on the UNC campus to help it along.

Sure, we may joke that Tar Heel lawmakers hiccupped in establishing N.C. State University, but Alabama lacks a prestigious, unified public system of higher education. There are three separate college systems with at least two campuses each and nine independent universities that fight tooth-and-nail for limited funding and resources.

As a result, there is a large duplication of programs, and there are only a handful of nationally competitive programs in the state of Alabama.

North Carolinians should thank President Emeritus Bill Friday and others for establishing the UNC system, the model for Southern higher education.

Each N.C. resident is guaranteed a quality education at a low cost, but I had to pack my bags and drive 15 hours up Interstate 85 and pay an arm and a leg just to get a taste of it.

Even sports in Alabama can’t touch North Carolina. Yes, Matt Doherty’s departure was messy, and our football team might have a hard time beating Auburn High School’s squad.

Yes, ’Bama’s “Bear” Bryant was a coaching god, and the Iron Bowl is the most watched regular-season football game in the nation.

However, N.C. has the powerhouses of ACC basketball, the genius of Dean Smith, two pro sports teams that include Julius Peppers — and now the duo of Sean May and Raymond Felton with the Charlotte Bobcats — a womens’ soccer dynasty, Roy Williams and Woody Durham.

These are a few reasons why I thank God for the great state of North Carolina and embrace it more than many resident students do. I realize it’s not a perfect state — I wouldn’t drive alone through Albemarle if you paid me; however, I appreciate it, and I’m not the only one.

Trudier Harris-Lopez, Sitterson Professor of English and columnist for the Chapel Hill News, and Daniel Wallace, author of the novel “Big Fish,” are both native Alabamians who have found their way to this state by way of the Hill. Two acclaimed writers — or three, if you include me — can’t be wrong.

Even though I will probably leave the state once I get that sheepskin stamped with James Moeser and Molly Broad’s signatures, I will never forget the Old North State and particularly Chapel Hill for showing me there’s a world outside of Alabama, opening doors for me, and teaching me Thomas Wolfe’s lesson that I can’t go home again.

In-staters, embrace the magic that surrounds this place. It’s so good you may enjoy life not taking Wolfe’s sage advice.

June 30, 2005 | Filed Under Columns

Leave a Comment 

Being like Mike is fine, but taking cues from Roy is best

Throwback: This is one of my favorite columns I wrote when I was a back-page columnist for The Daily Tar Heel, UNC-Chapel Hill’s Pacemaker Award-winning daily newspaper.

Don’t hate her, Carolina fans, but my mother was blasphemous.

Last October, she — an Alabama state champion coach of both men’s and women’s basketball — predicted this chapter in Tar Heel men’s hoops.

“Don’t expect too much from your team,” she said. “Now, I love Roy Williams, but he needs four years to recruit his own players before you can start winning championships.”

She was convinced that Tubby Smith’s Kentucky squad would win, and our season-opening loss to Santa Clara seemingly supported the case.

But Roy and the boys proved Mom and other naysayers wrong. We went undefeated in the Dean Dome, we earned our first outright regular season ACC title since 1993. We clinched the school’s fourth NCAA championship — the first since Dean Smith’s retirement.

But how on earth did it happen? Carolina had an 8-20 season and was twice excluded from the NCAA tourney as the sand in the Class of 2005’s hourglass fell. Now, we’re tops in the nation.

Sports analysts and leadership gurus will be answering that question for years. But to me, it happened because Roy Williams practices and preaches sacrifice and humility.

Sadly, we live in a Burger King world: Most people want to have it their way in group settings. We want to air our opinions constantly, and our wishes must be honored. We want to do as we please without interference. If we’ve earned a few resume bullets, we think that we deserve to run the show.

We hate sacrifice. Leaving the comfort of complacency or following new rules pisses us off, and we oppose new leaders who change the status quo. We especially hate it if those leaders sideline us to get to the top.

And we want to get a ton of attention. If we lead other people in excelling, we want to receive extra-special awards, to have our portraits hung or to have things named for us. American culture has made us selfish, and as an only child, I have a difficult time managing it.

Roy Williams is an exemplar of how to overcome nature and to be altruistic. He was the best thing to hit Lawrence, Kan., since James Naismith, the inventor of basketball and the University of Kansas’ first coach. Williams took the Jayhawks to the NCAA tournament 14 times in his 15-year tenure as coach. He went to four Final Fours and reached the championship game twice.

He sacrificed his life there for the benefit of UNC, his alma mater. Roy cried during his first Tar Heel press conference because he hated to leave Jayhawk players, recruits, staff, friends and loyal fans, and it pained him to see the shirts proclaiming him to be “Benedict Williams.” Still, he did it for us, and it’s definitely paid off.

But don’t even think that Williams has an ego problem, as most of us would. You won’t see him bragging about the fact that he was asked to coach the Los Angeles Lakers before they targeted that arrogant Durham devil. You won’t see Roy selling himself out on commercials for credit cards and crappy cars, stating that he’s not a basketball coach but a leader who happens to coach basketball.

Roy is too humble and has too much class for that. He spends most press conferences and interviews praising our players and recognizing Tar Heel legends. He even gave credit to Matt Doherty, his beleaguered predecessor who was controversially run out of Chapel Hill, for doing an excellent job in recruiting our great players.

Williams credits himself least. In fact, his motto for the program is, “It’s amazing what can be accomplished if no one cares who gets the credit.” Roy taught our boys to live like he does, and it made a big difference for our team, both individually and collectively.

What if each of us applied Roy’s lessons to our personal and professional lives? Would we be more successful as leaders and employees? Would we have fewer family fights? Would we be more productive academically, especially in terms of group projects? Would Student Congress stop bickering? Would I have stayed with the Campus Y? Probably so.

For that reason, I’m making a pledge to be more like Roy Williams each day, and I’ll be thankful if I can become half the gentleman and leader he is.

Coach Williams, you have inspired me — and with the deepest sincerity and Carolina pride, I thank you. Even though the administration didn’t cancel Tuesday classes, I took a holiday in your honor.

April 6, 2005 | Filed Under Columns

Leave a Comment 

The Confessions of a “White” Black Student at Carolina

Throwback: This is one of my favorite columns I wrote when I was a back-page columnist for The Daily Tar Heel, UNC-Chapel Hill’s Pacemaker Award-winning daily newspaper.

During a recent dinner conversation, one of my closest friends said, “The verdict is in. I’m sad to report that you are no longer black.”

“No longer black?” I immediately asked. I quickly looked at my hands to make sure that I had not unknowingly undergone a Michael Jackson-esque transformation, but I quickly realized that my skin was the same color it had always been.

“People don’t think of you as black,” she continued. “In fact, you’re practically white.”

It was one of the most confusing moments of my life. My friend’s revelation perplexed me. I couldn’t understand the fact that people saw me as not being black, and even as “white.” I tried to make sense of the matter in different ways.

First, I looked at my family. Both of my parents are black. Both have beautiful brown skin, broad noses and the most unique hair I have ever seen. They were also born in historic times for blacks. Both lived through Jim Crow segregation, and my mom even picked cotton.

I then looked at my own experiences. Raised in Alabama, one of the most segregated areas of the nation, I quickly learned that race was a big factor in American society, and that I was not in the majority.

I attended subpar, all-black schools and grew up on a dirt road in an all-black neighborhood. I was called “nigger” more times than I can count, and when I did move to a racially mixed community, none of my white neighbors would even speak to me.

I went to a racially mixed boarding school and faced even more problems because of my race. Staff members and administrators discriminated against students of color, and I received a death threat after standing up against hate speech.

Even at Carolina, I have had highly insensitive remarks directed at me. I was even called a drug dealer at a party last year.

To me, I was most certainly black, and our closed-minded society treated me accordingly. However, that completely contradicted my friend’s report.

Still confused, I began to ask other people to weigh in on the issue. I asked friends, co-workers, professors and even campus administrators.

My conversations with these people varied. Each person had different thoughts on the issue, but all of the talks had a common thread: Most of my decisions since arriving in Chapel Hill were not “black enough.”

I am in a “white” fraternity. My North Face fleece and Reef sandals are among the most heavily used articles in my wardrobe. I own all three John Mayer CDs. I chat with friends and play Frisbee on Polk Place.

My main involvement on campus has been with “white” organizations such as the Campus Y, student government, the Interfraternity Council and now The Daily Tar Heel.

Basically, I made all of the wrong choices if I was to be considered “black” at UNC.

But why is this the case? Sadly, society has dictated that certain activities, organizations, styles of clothing and actions are “black,” and that most others — especially those of the mainstream culture — are “white.”

Do we have follow that edict and judge our fellow students based on racist categories? As difficult as it might be, I hope that we can start treating our fellow Tar Heels more like individuals, instead of categorizing them by prejudiced cultural norms.

I admit that I am a utopian-minded person, and I sincerely believe that we must be the change we wish to see in the world. Improving race relations begins with each individual, so I am going to start doing my part.

I am going to remain a proud brother of my IFC fraternity. I will continue to wear my North Face apparel and sandals. The DTH and Campus Y will still be part of my life. I’m going to blast “I Don’t Want To Be,” my favorite Gavin DeGraw track, as loudly as possible.

I am also going to renew my membership in the Black Student Movement, to write my honors thesis on the campus struggle for a black cultural center and to work to connect more African Americans to campuswide activities and organizations. I will even be relaxing with the most recent Twista CD.

To be quite honest, I am going to continue being myself, a unique individual. Maybe I can be an exemplar of what I consider common sense: People should not be made to feel bad because they are eclectic or challenge the status quo.

In fact, those are the only people who have ever made a genuine impact on society, and that’s why I will be writing this column.

January 12, 2005 | Filed Under Columns

2 Comments