I went to Yazoo City, MS, this weekend to see my amazing nephew graduate from high school. More on the nephew later, but the timing was perfect given that there was a comment–and later, a clarification–made the other day by bboyboop about whether black folks value education.
No one could go to this ceremony and question whether black people value education. More on that in a few, but the graduation itself was the most entertaining ceremony I’ve ever attended.
Get ready…

The ceremony was at the football field, and my family got there early so we could get good seats. The added benefit of that was seeing the crowd show up. For a quick glimpse of what was there, click here.
That pic doesn’t do justice, though. My batteries were dead when the countless people in airbrush wife-beaters rolled up. I would have gotten my ass whooped if I’d been caught taking pictures of chicks with homeade tattoos that said “sexy” on their wrists that looked like they were done with a stick pen and traced over with a fading permanent marker. So much. So much.
For the first time in my life, I felt like one of those New Yorkers I despise, the ones that come down South and talk about how backwards the people are and look down their noses at the way we live. I wasn’t looking down on people, but I definitely saw some shit that made me take pause. Lots of it.
Either way, the ceremony started, and it didn’t take long to get into the valedictorian and salutatorian’s speeches. My nephew was the salutatorian, so we were waiting for the first kid to hurry up so I could see what I came to see.
What followed was the best valedictory speech I’d ever heard.
Someone must have made that lil joker mad because he went off. He started by talking about some of the things he’d been through, something that usually turns me off, but he went on to implore the kids to keep on trucking, no matter what. He let them know that, no matter what, it’s your production that matters and little else in the real world. HE QUOTED T.I.!!! He also dropped the dopest, self-deprecating science I’d heard in a valedictory address.
“Do you think anyone will care that I finished number one in my class? Do you know how many people finished first in their classes in college? Nobody will care.”
That was real talk. I wish I could have gotten my students to understand that the only thing people give a damn about is what you do, not what you did. I was privileged to hear the young man speak from the stands, and I hope the kids that sat behind him as he spoke realized the same thing.
The nephew’s speech was spectacular. I try to relay it wouldn’t give justice, but it made me proud to see this mature, confident young man address his peers dynamically, relevantly, and in an entertaining manner. As I’ve said for years, I wanna be like my nephew when I grow up.
But after his speech, the rain came. The principal was trying to introduce the speaker, but it was time to go. Folks got their herr did, and the rain wasn’t going to mess that up. So, the production moved to the gym. I normally would say it was hot as four niggaz in a hatchback, but that analogy isn’t nearly emphatic enough. It was hot as a thousand or two niggaz in a gym. Yes, hot like that.
But things started rolling…and then this.

Yep, the power went out. What happened then? Everyone in the gym opened their cell phones, creating the best low-budget light show I’d ever seen. It was a tad disturbing when fourteen year olds then started firing up their lighters, but it was an interesting sight. To keep the party entertaining, the drummers in the band got to going. And since the school’s mascot is the Indians–foul, I know–the kids started doing the chant and the Tomahawk Chop–foul, again. It was so much fun, though, to see those cell phones going back and forth, watching folks make fun where none seemed possible. My buddy, whose from Jackson, said it best: Folks don’t have much in Mississippi, so they learn to make fun from what they’ve got. In this case, it was a party in a sweltering, pitch black gym. Great.
At that point, the ceremony had to be shut down. I feel for the kids whose last names are late in the alphabet because they didn’t get to walk. But, since my nephew’s last name is Arp, we were in the game. Plus, since it was his day, he got to walk right after the valedictorian. Good work, lil fella.
Next was the reception. Now, my sister is a Jones, meaning that she’s just as thrifty as the rest of us are. So to save funds, she had his reception at a hall at her job.
Where does she work? The Yazoo City Federal Corrections Facility.
That’s right–we partied at the pen after graduation. I need say no more. Just know it was crunk as all get out.
(That same buddy came and picked me up. I asked him if he knew how to get where he was, and he said, “You know it. My best friend’s been there for five years.” I love my friends)
As I read back over this, I realize it’s impossible to convey how fun the graduation was, but it was great. People frequently get large sticks inserted into their booties when graduations come, but it should be a party. Folks should cheer, bring their airhorns and jugs with pennies in the bottom, and just have a blast. It ain’t about knowing how to act. It’s all about celebrating an important milestone in those kids’ lives.
But let’s talk about how this ties into black folks’ and their views on education. Out of the 112 kids that walked, 111 of them were black (white folks in Mississippi simply put their kids in private schools to avoid any race mixing). Out of those kids, I can’t tell you how many were announced for having multitudes of scholarship offers from multiple schools. My nephew could buy a good house with all the money folks offered him. And these weren’t rich kids by any stretch. Folks that don’t value education don’t produce those kinds of results.
But to see who folks value education, you’d have to hear the rousing applause the kids that earned scholarships received. If folks didn’t value education, then getting a scholarship wouldn’t be a big deal. If black people didn’t value education, the graduation would not have been packed as it was. If black folks didn’t value education, the loudest ovations of the evening would not have gone to the valedictorian and salutatorian.
Trust me–black folks value education. Historically, black people have known that education is the genesis of liberation. During slavery, it was known that education would be necessary to do ascend to the strongest goal of the time–a stronger relationship with God. After emancipation, and during slavery, black folks defied the law and risked their lives to learn to read. Colleges have been opened all over the country with the specific purpose of educating black people. Kids at schools everywhere without two nickels to rub together have mortgaged all they have to get into school, to try to use education as their ticket to economic liberation. James Meredith took a bullet in his back as an offshoot of his attempts to get into school. The list goes on and on. Even black folks who have little more than elementary school educations go out of their way to encourage their kids to get educated as best as they can.
Trust, poor black folks and all other value education. They don’t always have the easiest time getting it, but don’t think for a minute that we, as a people, are averse to education. We’ve done so much with so little to get ourselves and our children in positions to learn as much as possible.
Should one not believe me, I’d recommend taking a trip to Yazoo City, MS.