Who Are You Going to Be?

A scene from the campus theatrical presentation of Martin Luther King’s “Letter from Birmingham.”

As we celebrate the legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., I am reminded once again of this question and the challenge inherent in it. I am reminded that this was Martin Luther King’s story. After all, he was a black man and he felt the sting of segregation personally.

But it also was not his story. He was a middle-class, educated man, who earned a Ph.D. at 26. He had a relatively comfortable life in front of him as a pastor, with a committed congregation and a family and community that loved him. Security seemed certain. He could have created a life that insulated him and his from the brunt of segregation. He could have found a way to be happy, even in the midst of terrible societal circumstances.

But he made a choice to engage. And he paid a price for it. In time away from his family. In never seeing his children grow up. In stress, in loss of privacy, in early death.

I also realize that I can legitimately say this is not my story. After all, I am from another country, and this is not my history. I am the daughter of Dr. and Mrs. Lambert-Aikhionbare, great parents who both hold graduate degrees, as do I. I have never known hunger or poverty, never been stopped by the police, never been called the “n” word to my face, have always made good grades and graduated on time, often early. I have never had to take out a loan to pay for my education. I have lived a blessed, sheltered, and privileged life in many ways.

But as I have both learned about the choices made by the heroes who have come before me and seen the current devastation of people, communities and the environment caused by the refusal of the many, myself included, to see, be, and act, I have realized that I too must make a choice — who am I going to be? I have decided I don’t get to sit this one out. So I say, loudly and boldly — This is my story. Because the story did not start and will not end in America. Because those who were left behind were not unscathed. Because I am a black woman and proud of it, so I do deal with the discomfort, the burden, and the pain of race. I too pay a price for being black and for doing the work. But most importantly, I must engage because I am a person. Human, not in a way that ignores, denies, or minimizes my race, gender, or any of the other identities that are important to me, but in a way that makes me unable to be fully me until I work to create space for the full humanity of those around me. In a way that makes me not truly free until I work for the freedom of others.

There has been progress, and we should celebrate these successes. But 43 years after MLK’s death, there is still much work to do, and in truth, some indicators are getting worse. For example, the average family of color earns 60 percent of what the average European American family earns, which is especially troubling both because this figure is worse now than it was in 1974 and because the U.S. Constitution designated black slaves as three-fifths or 60 percent of a human being. When you look at wealth, the picture is much starker; the average family of color has 10 percent of the wealth of the average European American family.

In 2008, the nation elected its first African American president. The world paused to celebrate. That night, Don Black’s hate website crashed because it was overwhelmed with traffic. The site, which usually averages 80 new registrants per day, received 2,000 new members on election night. David Duke, the former Louisiana legislator, has also seen an average increase of 25,000 daily visitors to his white nationalist website post election.

I will not overwhelm you with statistics. They can be overwhelming and are too easy to tune out. Instead, once again in 2011 — in a world where we are often too busy to think or reflect, where our gadgets can easily drown out the whispers of our hearts, and we are often isolated and insulated from the challenges others are experiencing, where our lives are comfortable and we are constantly encouraged to focus on us and ours — I ask you as I ask myself — who are we going to be?

We are here only because many before us chose to make this their story, roll up their sleeves, and do the work.

I hope you will not sit this one out.

By Ame Lambert, Senior Director of the Office of Diversity and Inclusion

This essay was the introduction to a campus theatrical presentation of 
Martin Luther King’s “Letter from Birmingham,” with Edgar Davis as MLK.

Meet Ame Lambert

Ame Lambert of South Burlington began work as Champlain College’s new senior director of diversity and inclusion last November with a goal to create a diverse and inclusive campus community. Lambert and her staff work directly with students to prepare them to thrive in a global, multicultural, interdependent world. The office also serves as a resource to campus departments on diversity issues and provides training, programming, and support services to underrepresented populations.

“It is about equipping champions to do what they are passionate about and what they want to do. People have been asking how to address bias incidents, how to create inclusive communities, how to weave diversity discussions into the curriculum and co-curricular activities. People want knowledge to make diversity real and relevant, and it is our responsibility as the Office of Diversity and Inclusion to provide that information and be a resource,” Lambert explained. She launched an in-house training/certification program called Intercultural U in the spring semester.

Prior to coming to Champlain, Lambert was director of intercultural affairs at Northwest Missouri State University. She is a graduate of Baylor University and earned her master’s degree in human resources and labor relations from Michigan State University. She is originally from Nigeria.

The voices of Champlain College’s educators and leaders are being heard in various ways every day and not always just in the classroom or on campus. Their philosophy and beliefs are being heard in our community—delivered as an introduction to an evening of history brought to life on Martin Luther King Day. Or a newspaper essay on the personal conviction of living a sustainable life. Or the insights that reveal themselves when you live close to the students you teach. We offer you a sampler of Champlain voices asking...who are you going to be?