Fostering Understanding in Our Community: Celebrating Black History Month: A Dialog on Triumphs and Trials

Dr. Cornell Morton:

Welcome. My name is Dr. Cornell Morton. I serve as president of Diversity Coalition, San Luis Obispo. And, we are very pleased to offer this program tonight, this dialogue and so pleased that you're able to join us. On behalf of the entire board, I want to thank you for your continued support, your continued participation, and we look forward to programs that you'll learn more about on our website as we move forward. Tonight, we are celebrating Black History Month. It's probably familiar for many of you, the notion and the theme that associates itself with Black History Month because Black history is in fact American history. We'll talk about that perhaps a little bit tonight, and help you and all of us better understand how and in what ways Black History Month continues to be important in our country's life. We talked a little bit about this issue, this program, the board did.

         And, we felt that given our current social and political climate in our country at this time, it was important to pursue this program tonight, to offer a conversation and a dialogue that we think will hopefully inform, and maybe even inspire some of us to continue to do the good work we're doing. And, those of us who were not quite engaged, that it will inspire us to get more involved in this community, across the vast array of diversity that exists in our state especially, and in some ways, even in our county,

         I won't go into great detail as I typically do about the Coalition's history, but some of you have heard me and others of us explain that the Diversity Coalition came into being back in March of 2011. It was in March of 2011 that a cross burning occurred in AG, Arroyo Grande. A Black family was victimized by that cross burning. And, a number of people came together throughout the county to support the family and in doing so, they decided to continue to meet, to continue to remain active. And in a nutshell, out of that grassroots effort, community effort, grew the Diversity Coalition, San Luis Obispo County.

         Tonight, our theme is a dialogue on triumphs and trials. And, we have an outstanding panel. I'll introduce them shortly. And again, we're happy that you're with us. Just a very quick background or history around Black History Month. Again, some of you are familiar with this history, but I'll very quickly share with you. Black History Month is an annual celebration of achievements by African-Americans, in a time for recognizing the central role African-Americans have played in American history. Also known as Black History Month, the event grew out of Negro History Week, the brainchild of noted historian, Carter G. Woodson, and other prominent African-Americans. Since about 1976, every U.S. president has officially designated the month of February, as Black History Month. Other countries around the world including Canada and the United Kingdom, also devote a month to the celebration of Black history.

         The story of Black History Month begins in 1915, half a century after the Thirteenth Amendment abolished slavery in the United States. That September the Harvard trained historian Carter G. Woodson, and the prominent minister, Jesse E, Moreland, founded the Association for the Study of Negro Life and History. An organization dedicated to researching and promoting achievements by Black Americans and other peoples of African descent. Known today as the Association for the Study of African American Life and History, the group sponsored a national Negro History Week in 1926, choosing the second week of February to coincide with the birthdays of Abraham Lincoln and Frederick Douglass. The event inspired schools and communities nationwide to organize local celebrations, establish history clubs, and host performances and lectures. In the decades that followed, mayors of cities across the country, began issuing yearly proclamations recognizing Negro History Week. By the late 1960s, thanks in part to the civil rights movement and a growing awareness of Black identity, Negro History Week had evolved into Black History Month, especially on many college campuses around the country.

         President Gerald Ford, officially recognized Black History Month in 1976, calling upon the public to quote, "Seize the opportunity to honor the too-often neglected accomplishments of Black Americans in every area of endeavor, throughout our history." Unquote. So since 1976, every American president has designated February as Black History Month. And, we have endorsed a theme or put forward a theme that we titled, Celebrating Black History Month: A Dialogue on Triumphs and Trials. And, this is a continuation of the Coalition series on Fostering Understanding in Our Community. So again, welcome. Let me very quickly move now to introduce our panelists.

         I'm going to begin with Dr. Camille O'Bryant. Dr. Camille O'Bryant is associate Dean for student success, welfare and issues of diversity and inclusion in the college of science and mathematics and professor of kinesiology, in the Department of Kinesiology and Public Health, excuse me, at Cal Poly San Luis Obispo. Dr. O'Bryant's areas of specialty include sociological and psychological aspects of sport, and physical activity. And, her specific areas of interest are in social justice, gender, race, ethnicity issues in physical activity and sport. Dr. O'Bryant has published articles and made a variety of scholarly presentations on how race, ethnicity and gender impact socialization into sport related careers. She earned a bachelor's degree in French studies at Smith College, and a master's degree of exercise and sports studies at Smith College. After completing her doctoral degree in sport, leisure and somatic studies at the Ohio State University. Dr. O'Bryant served as a member of the Sport and Exercise Studies Faculty at the Ohio State University from 1995 until 1999.

         She has been a member of the faculty at Cal Poly since 1999, and has served in a variety of leadership roles in professional organizations in higher education. She was vice-president for diversity of the National Association for Girls and Women in Sports. She's co-chair of the Social justice and Cultural Diversity Committee. And, she served as vice president for the National Association for Kinesiology and Physical Education in Higher Education, president from 2008 to 2010 for the Western Society for Physical Education of College Women. And, president from 2013 through 15 of the National Association for Kinesiology in Higher Education. Dr. O'Bryant served as a director of the Alumnae Association of Smith College, the board of directors from 2003 to 2006, and as a member of the Smith College Board of Trustees from 2015 through 19. Welcome, Dr. O'Bryant. I'd like to now introduce Dr. Charles Bell. Dr. Bell is nearly 30, I'm sorry, I almost dated you there Charles, nearly 13 year legal history or career.

         He has represented large private lending... I'm... Yeah, lending institutions and municipalities of all sizes. Most recently, he served as the assistant city attorney for the City of San Luis, Obispo. And prior, he worked as chief deputy city attorney for the City of San Diego. He received his bachelor of arts in political science and minor in ethnic studies from Cal Poly, San Luis Obispo. He received his Juris Doctorate from California Western School of Law in 2007. Immediately upon arriving in San Diego in 2004, Dr. Bell began establishing his roots in the community, and he doesn't hesitate to let you know that he feels privileged to call San Diego County his home. Over the past 16 years, his unwavering commitment to community service has been recognized by numerous organizations. In 2016, California Polytechnic State University, sometimes known as Cal Poly, San Luis Obispo, Alumni Association awarded Dr. Bell with its distinguished service award.

         In 2017, California Western School of Laws, Alumni association, awarded him with its outstanding community service award for his notable community public and humanitarian service. And in 2019, he received the San Diego County Bar Associations Service Award for service by a public attorney for his excellence in the practice of law, with service to the community, the profession, the association and legal education. Dr. Bell's commitment to community service demonstrates his ability to fulfill the national city's desire for visible approachable community centric city attorney representing its vibrant socioeconomically diverse community. Welcome Dr. Bell.

         Dr. Patricia Rogers. Dr. Patricia Rogers Gordon grew up in Arkansas in the 50s and 60s where in defiance of Brown v. Board of Education, the Supreme court decision of 1954 declaring the segregated public schools to be unconstitutional, African-Americans continued to live under conditions of racial separation. In 1965, her family migrated to South Central Los Angeles. And, Patricia a first-generation high school graduate went on to earn her doctorate at USC, University of Southern California. She is a retired California State University administrator, an adjunct professor and founder of Creative Solutions, where she provided strategic performance training for corporations and nonprofits.

         Dr. Gordon continues to dedicate her time to mentoring first generation college students and fighting social injustice. She serves on the boards of several organizations that aid the economically disadvantaged, and she is active in a number of efforts dedicated to ensuring the civil rights of marginalized citizens worldwide. Dr. Gordon is currently working with the Equal Justice Initiative, the Southern Poverty Law Center, and The Sentencing Project, to stop mass incarceration of African-American citizens. She owes close to her values and she holds close to a quote by Dr. King, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. quote, "Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter." Dr. King. Welcome Dr. Gordon.

Dr Patricia Gordon:

Thank you.

Dr. Cornell Morton:

Dr. Joye M. Carter. Dr. Carter, the first Black chief medical examiner appointed in the history of this nation was recently named as the first full-time forensic pathologist to the Sheriff and Coroner's Office, or Division rather, in San Luis Obispo County, California. Dr. Carter has served as the chief medical examiner for the District of Columbia, Harris County, that is Houston, Texas, Indianapolis, Indiana. And, she was the first Black female to serve as the deputy chief of the Armed Forces Medical Examiner Department. And, as a chief physician of the U.S. Air Force in the field of forensic pathology. Dr. Carter was the first graduate of Howard University College of Medicine to become board certified in forensic pathology, and has been Triple board certified in anatomical, clinical and forensic pathology throughout her career.

         Dr. Carter has always been an advocate for fairness in the criminal justice system, and often has had to assume the role of single-handedly combating racism and gender bias while maintaining expertise and neutrality, in-depth investigation systems. One of her many mantras has been never give up and she continues to do just that.

         Wow. We're in for a treat. We are in for a treat. Oh my goodness. Thank you so much, all of you. We're so fortunate to have you with us tonight and I'm going to stop there. I'm going to turn it over to Kendra Paulding, my colleague on the board. And Kendra, thank you for your service and for your willingness to, excuse me, moderate this session. You got it.

Kendra Paulding:

Hi there. So, I would like to hear... Hello. I would like to hear from Camille first if you'd like to give your introduction. That'd be great.

Dr Camille O'Bryant:

Yes. Sure. Thank you, Kendra. And, thank you Cornell. My gosh, listening to the introductions for everybody- [crosstalk 00:15:02].

Dr. Cornell Morton:

Wow.

Dr Camille O'Bryant:

This made me think how indeed it is an honor and privilege to be part of this panel this evening. I want to thank the board of directors for the Diversity Coalition of San Luis Obispo for putting these programs together and inviting me to be a part of this community tonight. I really look forward to learning and hearing from other panelists, and being in community with all who are present in this evening. I will begin just, I know you don't have a lot of time and you know, Dr. Morton's already given you quite a lot of my background. But, I want to start with a little background of who I am, where I'm from and how it is, I ended up in San Luis Obispo, California, and as an associate dean. This wasn't in the rule book or the game plan.

         If you had asked me when I was going into college, what I wanted to be, the last thing I would have said was an associate dean. And, the call assigned to math in San Luis Obispo, California of all places. And then, I'm going to finish with a spoken word that I wrote a few years ago during a conference session. And, I use that spoken word a lot, sometimes just with myself, but also in my teaching and presentations I make to help me sort of navigate those twists and turns and challenges, and I would say difficulties that many of us face as persons who are from underrepresented groups in all these different careers. And it still, to this day helps me a lot in my own growth and journey. So, storytelling also is a really important part of our legacy as Blacks people in the United States. Our oral histories are part of our strongest histories.

         And, one thing I've learned in working with students over the years and myself and my peers, is that the power in telling our story is a way for us to claim our social and cultural capital that is often kind of glossed over or eliminated based on the fact that we don't even really know our history. And, that's part of the overall plan and patterns around white supremacy. So, I'm originally from Boston, Massachusetts, and the more tired I get, the more you'll notice that based on how I talk, I'm a child of the 1960s and 70s. And during my childhood, I definitely remember and experiencing a variety of triumphs and challenges, especially as I was old enough to be aware of what's going on during the Black Civil Rights Movement. even though it was happening for decades and decades beforehand, but the late 60s, things came to a head with the assassinations of Martin Luther King, and Malcolm X and Robert E. Kennedy.

         And, although I was only seven years old, I will never forget watching Martin Luther King's funeral was my family. We actually had three houses next door to each other, all O'Bryant's. And, we all got together and watched it together. Despite those challenges in my own family and across my peer groups, I am always in awe of the strength and resilience and persistence of my kinfolk as it were. And, that those periods or moments of strength, and resilience and persistence are always greater than those moments of pain and frustration. So, as I reflect on my childhood and even into my adulthood and professional life, I know I've been surrounded by an experience, many first. Just hearing Cornell's presentation of the panelists, you have also heard some of those first. My father and his twin brother, his identical twin brother were the first Black graduates to earn their master's in business administration from Northeastern University in 1964.

         If you're in those space of higher education and student affairs, you may have heard of or read about a man named John Donaldson O'Bryant. That was my uncle John. He was the first Black member elected to the Boston School Committee in the 20th century. Isn't it weird that prior to the 20th century, there were actually Black Americans on the Boston Public School Committee, but Plessy versus Ferguson and Jim Crow kind of took care of all that. And, it took another 75 years to get a Black person elected to the School Committee. It was my uncle John. He also served until the time of his death as vice president of the Student Affairs at Northeastern University. Growing up around him and my father and my uncle, my other uncle, I was always amazed at how much they were engaged in community and coalition building throughout the City of Boston and the State of Massachusetts.

         When we were younger kids, as soon as we were big enough to carry boxes and move different equipment back and forth, my uncle John would rally us together to help him plan for and run a meal for raising money for the Black Educators' Alliance of Massachusetts. It was the Annual Bean Supper. So, Boston and baked beans and hot dogs, it worked out for us. But from a young age, it wasn't just about carrying the hot dogs and the beans and serving the dinners, it was seeing people come together and building coalitions and communities to undo civil injustice, social injustice. I was one of the first girls to join the Boys Club, well, now the Boys and Girls Club in Roxbury, which is in Boston. And, that was indeed, thanks to Title IX. So in 1975, having a chance to join the Boys Club, and join the swim team, and actually have a job, a part-time job after school, were the beginning seeds of me moving into the career as I know it now.

         When I was in high school or before I went to high school, the Boston Public Schools got this court order to desegregate by a federal judge. And so from like 1974, 75, 76, through those years, I never had any Black teachers until after busing. So, it wasn't until I was in eighth grade that I had my first ever teacher that was Black or African-American. It was my eighth grade American history teacher. And, I'll never forget. He wanted to bring a unit of African-American history into an American history course, eighth grade American history class. And, the parents raised Holy... You know what. And, even a lot of my classmates were just adamantly. I mean, we're eighth graders, we're 13. And they just were like, "No way, I'm not going to read this, you can't make me."

         But Mr. Howard, he was from Richmond, Virginia, and he persisted. And we learned things, I never knew that the first person that died in the Boston massacre, which was the start of the revolutionary war, was a Black man. Growing up in the City of Boston, I had to learn about that after one of my teachers was brave enough to face that resistance and help me learn a little bit of history from my own city, where I could be represented in that history. So thank you, Mr. Howard, I'll never forget you and your strength in that regard. I swam competitively from the age of 12 until I graduated high school.

         And then when I was in college, I actually joined the crew. So, I was a rower in college. I went to a predominantly white, private liberal arts college. and throughout my experiences, swimming and rowing, and even in my formal education, I was, as my mother would often say, "The only fly in the buttermilk." It was not uncommon for me as an athlete and coach in sports like swimming, rowing, synchronized swimming, to have other the athletes but more often the other coaches, question my presence in those spaces.

         Did I really belong? Could I really swim? You know that age old stereotype that Black people can't swim, pretty strong back in the day. And, it still persists even to this day. And, it was always so much fun to step on the starting blocks, stand up on the starting blocks, and those other athletes would think, "Ah, I got this, I got this." And, I'm like, "Mm-hmm (affirmative), Yeah, I got this too," and all the gold medals to show it. I was undefeated for two years in my events in high school. So, I used to take great pleasure in swimming those races and shattering that stereotype. But, my experiences with sports and an interest in education ultimately led me to pursue advanced degrees in exercise and sports. As I embarked on my doctoral journey, one of the first papers I researched and wrote in the graduate sports sociology class was focused on the lack of representation of Black people in the professoriate.

         Why weren't there more people like me? I was really curious about that. And during that time, and when I was doing that research for that paper, I learned that less than 2% of all doctorates and what was then referred to as physical education and kinesiology are held by Black people. While that percentage has increased somewhat throughout the years, I can say with a reasonable amount of confidence that we still probably hover around the 5% mark of Black people with their doctorates and physical education in kinesiology. And, the number may increase slightly, if I look at related disciplines like health, and public health, and health education and maybe physiology. But, the point is that in the fields that I've chosen to pursue for my professional career, Black Americans and their representation is relatively low. But my love for sports, my desire to figure out how indeed we can maybe learn more about why we can't get more folks like me involved, especially in leadership positions, did ultimately lead to a job at Cal Poly.

         And 1999, I joined the faculty in kinesiology, and I met a few challenges in that first year. I'm from Boston, like I said, moving further away from home, 3000 miles to be exact and an age pre internet, really like we know it now, social media really didn't exist. I don't even think I had a cell phone then, quite honestly. I know my mother didn't have a cell phone, but she called me one day to let me know she had been diagnosed with cancer, and I'll never forget sitting on the steps of a Crandall Gym down by the Spanos Stadium, and I just cried my eyes out. Like, why did I come so far from home when the love of my life, my mom, was facing such a serious diagnosis. She did survive that surgery and everything and did live another 20 or so years before she... We did lose her this past year, sadly. But, I come from strong stuff.

         And so, that was one challenge. Being the only Black faculty member in my department in college is another challenge in terms of trying to find mentors, and colleagues, and folks who could be in community with me and help me learn and grow, and have some space and respite. Cornell, I'll have to admit, he was one of my go-to places or spaces when I needed just to kind of be with somebody else who could understand, and commiserate, and support and mentor me. So, I've been very blessed to have faculty colleagues like Cornell who helped me through those not difficult times. Because, it was very common for me to have colleagues, mostly white men who would take great pride in making anything I said, or did seem nonsensical and unwelcome. So, with the amazing mentorship and support of my peers in the Black Faculty and Staff Association, and some amazing allies like David Khan. I was able to withstand those challenges and ultimately earn tenure in 2006 and was promoted to professor in 2011.

         So, I'm not teaching right now because my current appointment as associate Dean in the college of science and math, has me spend quite a lot of time helping students navigate those same types of twists and turns, and challenges that I experienced as an undergraduate and graduate student, and many of our students experience now. But, I honestly say I definitely rely on those hard lessons I learned. The benefits of good mentoring and advising that I was able to have to help our students be successful. Especially when they encounter those unavoidable challenges that are part of their academic and personal journeys. About six years ago, I attended the Annual National Conference on Race and Ethnicity , sometimes we just call it in NCORE in American higher education. And, I chose to attend one of the pre-conference workshops, because I liked the session, title and description. I found that really intriguing. I don't remember the exact title, but the idea was helping women of color connect with and celebrate this stealth legacy, and leadership and institutional transformation.

         This workshop was designed to help women of color in the academy navigate the many hurdles and barriers, implicit and explicit that we face while navigating those trips and turns of individualize, institutionalized forms of racism, sexism, and the many other isms, as they relate to our social and cultural identities. So, I think of that workshop often, and I thought a bit today or not just today, but when I was invited to be on this panel. And, when I thought about Black History Month, too many times, our voices, our vitality, our vibrancy, our beauty and power as Black people are stripped away from us. Sometimes from outside and even sometimes from within.

         So in that workshop, my peers and I, none of whom I'd ever met before, we had a chance to connect with each other, reconnect with ourselves and reclaim our social and cultural capital through a variety of exercises. One of the most pointed exercises for me, was the creation of a spoken word. Now, I've never written spoken word and I don't consider myself a poet or creative writer, but I can honestly say that, that exercise was an important pivotal turning point for me as I was in embarking on my new role as associate dean. So, I'm going to share it with you now, as I close my comments. And, although it was a few years ago, 2015, so I guess, it's like six years ago now, this spoken word still resonates with me today and it still sustains me today. And, I hope you find some things in it that resonate with you and your twists, and turns, and journeys, and triumphs, and trials and challenges that you've experienced in your life.

         I am from Boston, Boston Strong, from a beautiful extended family, multiple races, many faces. Do you segregate at Boston Public Schools crossing through the KKK and neo-Nazis, because we all deserve an equal opportunity to receive a good education. I battle the complexities of intersectionality and white supremacist patriarchy that courses through every layer of the institutions where I work, live and play. I collide, growing and learning through collisions of differences. What? You're not white, but your last name was O'Bryant, that's Irish, isn't it? The collision of an Irish name with brown skin has helped me learn many things about power and privilege.

         I defy when people told me Black people cannot swim, yet my first job in entry into my profession of teaching and coaching came to me, because of my work as a lifeguard and teaching swimming lessons. I encourage others to try, try to think beyond and within the boundaries they set for themselves and others set for them, dialogue and change from across and within. I forgive myself for the mistakes I've made, and others whose interactions with me have been intentionally and unintentionally disrespectful. I gained strength from the framing and experiencing the world through the gazes of social justice, inclusion, critical race, theory, and critical feminist theory. I Hark my family, blood and beyond, and my chances to help those with whom I am privileged to work, live and play. Thank you very much.

Kendra Paulding:

All right. Thank you. Next up. We have Charles and...

PART 1 OF 4 ENDS [00:31:04]

Kendra Paulding:

All right. Thank you. Next up. We have Charles. And that was really powerful, Camille. Thank you so much. Go ahead, Charles.

Dr. Charles Bell, Jr.:

Good evening. And thank you, Dr. O'Bryant, definitely hard to follow. When asked this evening by Dr. [Morton 00:31:16] to participate in this panel, I really thought about one, the amazing relationship I have with Dr. Morton and how it started, similar to Dr. O'Bryant, on the campus of Cal Poly, and just be able to find that safe place, that bond, to be able to build with him and just be able to find guidance in a mentor. So before I go any further, I want to thank him for his continued mentorship and guidance that I've received for so many years of my life, and I look forward to many more years going forward.

         When asked to speak about the topic, Trials and Triumphs, there's so many things that I could've touched upon that fall under the umbrella of law, which is often what I'm asked to speak about. But what I've really thought about is what is a trial and trial, and what is an aspect of law that I think touches us all that sometimes that's really gone unspoken in the larger community, but recently as should've been, has come into the light I think for many more of our society than those that we're aware of it in the past?

         And for me, my trial is linked to my hair. You really can't see it 'cause I have it back up, but I've been growing my dreads now for 20 years, 21 years. It all started in 2000 at the beginning of my senior year of high school when my mother embarked on her lock journey and invited me to join her on that path. Until that day, I always had short hair, short haircut. That was just the style, that was just my approach, that was just kind of the way I'd lived with my life with hairstyles up to then. But I decided to now join my mom on her journey into locks and it started that way.

         But quickly, I found myself no longer with the guidance of my mother or my loctician that I started with when I started Cal Poly in the fall of 2000. Needless to say, for those that know the Central Coast know San Luis Obispo, I arrived in the Central Coast unable to find a loctician or someone else able to assist me with my hair on my journey. And at that point, I found myself on my own and I really began learning to twist and take care of my locks on my own. It really became, how would I say it, labor of love that really taught me to investment in myself and invest in something I started to take pride in and something that was really still a connection to my home, my mother and something I was learning more as I dove into the history of locks and the history of African Americans, the heritage of Africans and our hair.

         And so, one of the first trials I found when I arrived at Cal Poly was, one, learning how to do my hair myself. But two, as a member of the Cal Poly football team, being confronted with what is well known as hazing. One evening, getting ready to go to campus, a freshmen, I can hear the sound of doors being knocked on and what sounded like clippers and razors, clippers, as you would hear at a barber shop, coming down the hallway. And I immediately knew what was happening. Upper class men were going through in hazing the new freshmen by cutting their hair. And you can imagine terror and fear that that took over me knowing that something I had just invested in, something I took so much pride in, something that linked me to something I was so proud of, what's about to be taken away. But luckily, I was able to find a senior member of the team, plead my case and made it past that first hurdle, that first trial, and went along on my journey.

         Throughout my years at Cal Poly, I figured, as I move out of San Luis Obispo to a larger, I would say more diverse community such as the City of San Diego where I arrived in the fall of 2004 to start law school, I wouldn't feel so alone and I would have more of an understanding in my community of my journey with my locks. However, finding myself being one, and by the time I graduated, the only African-American in my law school class, I was once again found alone in my journey with locks and the pride of my hair.

         And upon graduation, I thought, okay, new chapter, something new's going to happen, a new opportunity to now join a new workforce, which might have a different approach. But upon graduation, I was approached by one of the Black professors that had been a mentor for me throughout my entire law school journey, and she congratulated me on graduating and she looked at me and said, "So what are you going to do now?" And I spouted off about, "I'm going to look for this job. This is what I think I'm going to land. This is what I hope to do. This is my career goals." She stopped me and said, "No, no, what are you going to do about your hair?" And I looked at her and I was like, "What do you mean?" and she kind of explained to me how now, I was ending my educational time and things were going to change. I was walking out into the professional arena and I would likely need to cut my hair in order to proceed on with my legal career.

         And I was really taken aback, but then I had to sit there and think about what she had experienced. Amazing African female attorney, amazing professor, I mean hands down was the most brilliant one I've ever met, but then I remember when she started her career, it was in 1980s in Chicago and the kind of discrimination, kind of prejudice, kind of pressure she felt working as a corporate lawyer at that time for a Black woman wishing to, at that time, move up the corporate ladder, the kind of pressures and stereotypes, and kind of pressures to assimilate to a corporate culture, which oftentimes was based on [inaudible 00:37:02] appearance. So I took her words. I took her advice and I really understood where she was coming from, but I continued on my journey.

         Next thing I noticed is I went out and I started working for my law school and I was admissions recruiter for the law school and sent me all over America to so many college fairs for students interested in going to graduate school. I was excited because I was going to Orangeburg, South Carolina and I was going to be presenting at HBCUs. And I was so excited to be able to talk to the students about law school, a career, all these aspects that I was so excited to share with them, but I wasn't prepared for the questions that I fielded that day.

         Set up my table, set up all my materials, was ready, and out of say 80% of the questions are, "You could be a lawyer with hair like that?" And I really enjoyed being able to talk to all the students and see the astonishment and see them really asking like, "How did you make the decision to continue to grow your hair? Are you ever going to cut it? Do you think you can really have a career?" And have that open discussion about what was important to me, what are my values, and why I continued along my journey.

         As I graduated from law school, started my first job in my legal career, I recall going to court and I recall walking into the courtrooms with my locks down to the middle of my back and seeing the responses from those in the ... one on the bench, one at the court staff, but also those just in the courtroom, from my peers, wondering if I was lost, if I was in the right courtroom, and the pride I felt when finally my case was called and it was the counsel representing the City of San Diego and everyone looking around and I would stand up. I walk up to the court, to the bench, across the bar and they all had to stand there looking at my dreads down the middle of my back as I represented my client on behalf of the City of San Diego.

         One of the things I took much pride in as I became more senior in my legal career was opportunities to mentor new law students. I remember one instance where a young lady came to me, had just started her twisting, her short-haired phase and she was worried that she was in her second year of law school and if she was going to have to cut her hair in order to get a job. She was worried about the state of the economy, the state of the pressures to, once again, conform or the perception is that we have to agree to do, agree to look like in order to move forward in a profession.

         And I was able to share with her my story. I was able to connect her to some other amazing women in the legal field that had beautiful locks here in San Diego. And I was so proud 'cause I didn't have that person early in my journey as part of my trials that I overcome one after the other, but to share that with others is something that I was very proud of. And to see her to this day, she's now a practicing attorney and her locks are down to her shoulders. So it was one of those things with trials and triumphs. These are the small ones I continue to remember and share with others.

         But this evening, I'm not sure if the host can share my link in the chat box, but what I wanted to leave everyone with is something that maybe all of know, but maybe some of you don't, but it is called the CROWN Act. The CROWN Act was drafted and sponsored by State Senator Holly Mitchell, and was passed unanimously in both chambers of the California legislator in June 2019, was signed into law, July 3rd, 2019. And the CROWN Act stands for Creating a Respectful and Open World for Natural hair. And it's a law that prohibits race-based hair discrimination, which is denial of employment and educational opportunities because of hair texture or protective hairstyles, including braids, locks, twists or Bantu knots.

         So I leave that with you and I hope you take an opportunity to click on the link shared in the chat box because this has passed in California, but has not been passed throughout all the United States. There's many groups that are in need of support. This is a message I think that continue to be shared, but I share this because all of us I think in our community know the trials that we've gone through with our appearance, with our hair, with the pressures to assimilate to pursue our dreams. But I'm so excited that in 2019, in the years of my career, that this legislation passed and it became law in 2019. And I just want to share that with everyone that through all the trials, this is an amazing triumph for all of us. So thank you.

Kendra Paulding:

Wow. I loved hearing about your hair and that connection with your mom. I'm so glad you didn't cut your hair. It's beautiful. So next up, we want to welcome Patricia.

Dr. Patricia Gordon:

There. Hi. Hi. Thank you for this opportunity to celebrate Black Women in American History. As we celebrate Black History Month, I invite us to acknowledge the contributions of Black women in our fight for a seat at the table and to have a viable leadership voice.

         First, we're going to recognize Black women as abolitionists. Later, we will examine the pivotal role that Black women occupied in the early voting rights and civil rights movement. Then, we will explore the cutting edge and powerful roles that we're playing at this time.

         However, we cannot have a conversation about Black women's roles in America without acknowledging the multiplicity of positions of intersectionality. Intersectionality takes into account a person's overlapping identities and experiences in order to understand the complexities of prejudice we face. For example, we have to fight the fight against racism in addition to sexism. Then, you add class, culture, sexual orientation, and gender identity. All of these are overlapping interdependent systems of racism.

         Dr. Sharon Presley, the executive director of the Association of the Libertarian Feminist and co-author of Exquisite Rebel, she gives a rundown of some of the many Black women who worked toward the abolition of slavery. There were far more women in the abolitionist movement than the heroic Tubman and Truth. Many Black women helped make the abolitionist movement a success. Dr. Presley in her article, we speak their names, Black women abolitionists, named a dozen Black women abolitionists who we have not heard of, but who absolutely helped light the path to freedom.

         Black women as a whole were excluded from women's suffrage rights movement and their activities. Black female reformers understood that in addition to their gender, their race significantly affected their rights and available opportunities. White suffragists and their organizations ignores the challenges that African American women face. They chose not to integrate issues of race into their campaigns. The National American Women's Suffrage Association held conventions that excluded Black women. Black women were forced to March separately in the back of their parade. Ida B. Wells confronted suffragists who would not denounce lynching. She stated, "White women speak of rights. I speak of wrongs."

         In 1896, the newly formed National Association of Colored Women advocated for a wide range of reforms to improve life for African Americans including Jim Crow laws in the South that enforced segregation. Their motto was "lifting as we climb." Black women continued to fight until the Voting Rights Act was passed in 1965. By the way, I encourage us to look beyond the simplistic story of Rosa Parks refusing to move to the back of the bus. It was a rebellion of [maids 00:46:51], a rebellion of working class women who were tired of boarding the buses in Montgomery and being assaulted and abused by the bus drivers. That's why the movement could hold so long because it went to the very, very heart of Black womanhood.

         Black women powered the civil rights movement, but rarely became as leaders. Nevertheless, they were at the forefront and played a critical role. Some Black women were empowered and thrilled by the Black Power Movement, including the Black Panther Party, but most encountered its male chauvinism common to many nationalist movements at that time. Female activists sometimes did not find the intra-racial cross-gender solidarity they sought, the roles played by men and women within the civil rights movement and reinforced the gender norms of the '60s. Bev Jackson, one of the chairpersons of the Democratic American caucus stated, "Black women have a special resilience. They have no safety net. So Black women just learn to walk the tight rope better." John Lewis stated, "Without the Black woman, there would be no NAACP."

         Part of my story is, after a prolonged illness, my father died in 1954 at the age of 44 as a result of unavailable healthcare for Black citizens in Arkansas. Although he was an independent landowner and an independent owner of a concrete business, by the time he died, it had all been sold, leaving my mother with 11 children and our status went from middle-class to deep, extreme poverty. Although in 1954, Brown vs Board of Education rule that racial segregation in public schools was unconstitutional, schools in the South remained separate and unequal. Our only source of income was either domestic work or field work. I did both.

         As soon as my brothers turned 18, they escaped the cotton fields by joining the military and sending money home. My brothers made California home and convinced my mother that California was the land of opportunity. In 1965, my family was part of the great migration of millions of African Americans that left the South for what the author, Isabel Wilkerson, described as warmth of other suns. My mother proudly registered to vote for the first time in California in 1965. In the 56 years since my mother registered to vote and the 56 years since the Voting Rights Act, Black women have earned and insisted on a place in American politics.

         Now, Black women are even more mobilized. Over the last several years and across America, Black women won elections in historic numbers, from school boards to vice-president. We are a voice against voter suppression, mass incarceration of Black men and women. We are advocates for equal health care, and we will continue to confront racial disparities in policing, and we will advance the cause for economic equality.

         Historically, Black women vote in extra ordinary numbers, but we don't vote alone. We usher our families, our neighbors, our churches to the polls. Stacey Abrams noted, "Black women are going to be at the forefront, not only giving rise to voter turnout, but also shaping the conversation." She continued, "It has been a sea change in how vital our voices have been." She added, "We're here like the Underground Railroad, but it has surfaced now. In a big way. It's a rail train."

         My conclusion is we have a lot to be proud of, but we have much, much, much more work to do. Thank you for this opportunity.

Kendra Paulding:

Impressive. Thank you so much, Patricia. So important to hear more about intersectionality. I think that that's such an important concept. Thank you so much for bringing it up. And last, but certainly not least, we have Dr. Joy Carter.

Dr. Joye M. Carter:

Good evening, everybody. I'd like to thank the Diversity Coalition for sponsoring this panel tonight. I've really enjoyed hearing from my colleagues. This is why Black History should be every day of the year because we have melanin every day of the year.

         I'm very happy to be here. This happens to be the anniversary of my grandmother's birth. February 23rd is very important to me and my grandmother is very important to my career. My family all hails from Virginia, one of the major slave trade selling areas of the country, and my family is a mixture of native American and Black. And my grandmother taught me the ways of native American as well as the notion that no one on earth is better than you, and there's nothing you cannot do if you're trained for it, and I really embrace that concept.

         I am actually from North Eastern Ohio, very small village called Wellsville where we had a multicultural upbringing because that was the area where steel mills and brick yards and pottery were king back in the old days of the '50s, '60s and '70s. So I grew up with all kinds of people and everybody there talks like me. My family relocated to Indianapolis, Indiana because during that time period in the early 1970s, Indiana refused to bus and my mother was hired as a teacher. The federal government was insisting on separate and supposedly equal education.

         I started high school in Indianapolis, Indiana, which is also the home of Eli Lilly. And I had expressed an interest to my guidance counselor as a freshman that I wanted to be a doctor. The guidance counselor immediately said, "I would not make a good doctor." And I looked at him and I just said, "You don't know anything about me." I walked out of the office and I ran into another guidance counselor named, Mrs. [Green 00:55:05], and I said, "Mrs. Green, I was just told I couldn't become a doctor." And she said, "Oh, no, baby. There's a program sponsored by Eli Lilly that has an immersion for students that want to learn about medicine."

         And she signed me up for the program and I spent my summer in between freshman and sophomore year in high school at the [St. Vincent's 00:55:32] Hospital in Indianapolis, Indiana. I was 14 and I wasn't doing a whole lot as far as medicine, but my job was to help prepare meals for the medical staff. This was a Catholic hospital. Back then, I wasn't into cooking so I had a book in my pocket and I burned my hand on coffee, and the workers asked me to step outside of the kitchen area and not to create any more harm, and they wouldn't tell anybody, just don't come back in.

         And so I'm out in the hallway reading my book, and back in the old days in hospitals, the morgue where deceased are stored and the kitchen area were in close proximity, I'm reading my book and I spy the sisters pushing a shrouded body into the morgue area and I was very curious. And the sister said, "No, this is horrible. You don't want to know." And I'm thinking I'm a teenager and I'm curious. I literally begged my way in to see what was going on. And I later begged my way in to see a post-mortem because this was not a natural death.

         I don't know what made that forensic pathologist allow me to watch, but that day changed my entire life. I was already firm in my convictions, on my belief that everybody is a person. And when death occurs, whatever has kept us alive moves because energy is never destroyed. It just moves or it changes, but you don't destroy it. And so I watched the post-mortem at the age of 14. And by the end of the post-mortem, I knew this is exactly what I was going to do for the rest of my life. It was my calling. It was my passion. To be able to tell how someone died was one thing. To be able to document through death was the second thing, but also to be able to help the family, which is what I also was privy to, help the family through the most terrible time of their life, and I was inspired.

         And when my mother picked me up from work that day, she was not inspired and she was very upset, but I had received a equal dose of stubbornness from her, my father, and my grandmother. And I said, "This is what I want to do," and I was not afraid. I was intrigued. I was able to change my job from the kitchen area to animal care at Indiana University, School of Medicine. Been an animal lover my entire life, and back in those days before [inaudible 00:58:34], they were doing research and my job was to make sure the animals were cared for and, of course, I really cared for all of them.

         But I was able to read more about forensic pathology and I was so intrigued. I wrote to a doctor, and this was in the '70s, sight unseen, his articles made sense to me and I wrote to him and said, "I want to be a forensic pathologist." I wasn't sure he was going to answer me, but about three months later, I got a return letter. And this is from Dr. Joe Davis, the late Dr. Joe Davis, who was the chief medical examiner of Miami, Florida. And he said, "Here are things that you must do. You must know the human body. You must know anatomy and physiology. You also must have good communication skills. You must know how you feel about death." And that led to intermittent conversations through writing between the two of us through the rest of my high school career, college. And I met him when I was a first year medical student at Howard.

         Part of my journey getting to forensic pathology was college after high school and I went to Wittenberg University in Springfield, Ohio. I earned a academic scholarship. Wittenberg is very small, a private Lutheran college. And my mother dropped me off and I was looking forward to a great academic career. But the very first night of the first full week of school, Wittenberg being 2% Black or less, they held a Savage Tan contest in the cafeteria, in the cafeteria that I had to pay dues for student activities. We had a little group called Concerned Black Students, and we got together. We all talked about what could we do with this Savage Tan contest at a primarily white institution where we were paying fees.

         They held this contest at the dinner hour. Students and my group, we had our swimsuits underneath our clothes. So when they actually had the audacity to call up individuals to show off their tans, first for the guys, all the young Black men stood up and went on stage and won the prizes. When they called for the women, the young Black women, you could not beat our tans, we won the prize. And then we said, "This will not happen again. You have no idea how arrogant, how disappointing, and frankly, how racist this behavior was, and we're not spending money on student government activities for this nonsense." That contest was canceled that night, never to recur again.

         I'm surprised that 40 years later, in fact, 2020 ...

PART 2 OF 4 ENDS [01:02:04]

Dr. Joye M. Carter:

I said 40 years later. In fact, 2020, I received the outstanding alumni award from Wittenberg University. My motto has always been, I don't quit. I don't give up. And also that I'm not going to be the last one. I was getting ready to graduate from Wittenberg. I had made up my mind, I wanted to go to Howard University. I was going to continue in the theme of forensic pathology and I received an academic scholarship from the United States Air Force because we were in close proximity to Wright-Patterson Air Force Base. So I did attend medical school as a military officer. And because I was in Washington D.C. where Howard is located, I was able to spend a lot of time working around the very active basis in the Washington D.C. area, Walter Reed, Andrews Air Force Base, Bolling. And I continued along the line of being a forensic pathologist to the point where my classmates actually nicknamed me blood and guts.

         I was always in the anatomy lab, because I was intending to be a chief. I set my goal to be the Chief Medical Examiner of Washington D.C., and I was not going to be deterred. And I knew I had to learn everything that I could. So I finished medical school. I did an internship in New York City, actually. Then I returned to Washington and did my residency in anatomical and clinical pathology, learning how you make diagnosis of disease and evaluate treatment in the medical setting by looking at the body, doing biopsies, and of course using body fluids for testing. Upon completing that, I then served in my fellowship year with my mentor, Dr. Joe Davis in Dade County, Florida Miami. And that was the most wonderful year for me, because I gained a lot of experience. I was their first black female fellow, Dr. Davis, who insisted on good communication skills, sent me all over the country to lecture about what I did and how I did it.

         In 1989, in fact, January 17th, 1989 was the last major riot in Miami. And I was on duty that day when a case was sent in as a traffic accident. And that was not a traffic accident. It was a man who had been shot while driving a motorcycle. And it was sent in as a traffic accident and almost overlooked. I spied a hole in the back of the helmet and sent the body for x-ray and it was a death due to a gunshot wound, not a traffic accident. And I witnessed the burning of many areas of Miami over a week's time. And I remember writing my first article, which was called The Shame of Miami. Because in that office as their first black physician, many of the support staff in that office were African-American. And they lived in places like Overtown and Freedman's Village, which were black neighborhoods.

         And yet the staff used euphemisms like Liberty City Natural, Freedman Natural, but what they were referring to were homicides. And they continue to victimize individuals just because they lived in neighborhoods. Miami, like many cities, can be very expensive. And not recognizing that your support and your help are individuals who by circumstance live in these neighborhoods, you think it's okay to say that because you're not saying it about yourself. So I pointed that out and I said, "You need to be aware of everybody as we're taught, know who your community is." And I published that article in the National Medical Association Journal, because this is something we all need to be aware of. I guess I'm known for fighting for just cause, that's what I'm supposed to do, that's my calling.

         Being a medical examiner is a job where you determine how people die for different locales. It can be a scary job for those who are not trained properly or don't know their feelings about death. But frankly, when you're able to tell how somebody has died, you actually weld a great amount of power and you have to be careful with that power. And some would say that perhaps it's not for a person of color. And I would say, "Why not? I'm going to be the first and I'm going to do it, do it well." My upbringing was that I don't need to scan. We are human beings. The only race that I really recognize is the human race. And the second race would have to be the Indianapolis 500. Other than that, I don't know what people are doing with these different subjective terms.

         Being the first Chief Medical Examiner in this country has meant that I live up to what I always say in that is I treat everybody with respect. I treat everybody as if they are worthy of respect, because I'm a doctor and I took the oath to do so. It doesn't matter if your body's in pristine condition. It doesn't matter if you've been homeless on the street. Doesn't matter if you've actually committed a crime or you're the victim of crime. My duty and my pledge was to treat everybody the same and to be thorough in my examination of them. And that's what I've always done. As I now celebrate my almost 39th year of medical practice, I've lived up to that my entire life. It's not a black or a white thing, or a red thing. As a matter of fact, I would argue with you and everyone here tonight, there is no greater tool of diversity than death.

         No one escapes it. It doesn't respect your income, your gender identification, whatever vehicle you drive or neighborhood you live in. No one gets out of life alive. And that's one of my other mantras. So why not treat people like they are people? I've worked in many cities around the country and lived all over the country. I was active duty in Washington D.C., and I did serve as the deputy chief of the Armed Forces Medical Examiner System. And I've lectured and traveled all over the world, which has afforded me even a greater observation that people are people, and we really have the same basic desires. We want to clothe ourselves and our children, have enough food to eat, and have something to do. And that