THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, June 7, 1996 TAG: 9606060011
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A14 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Opinion
SOURCE: By BENJAMIN SOLOMON CARSON SR.
LENGTH: 73 lines
Benjamin Solomon Carson Sr., director of the division of pediatric neurosurgery at Johns Hopkins University and Hospital, delivered Eastern Virginia Medical School's commencement address at Chrysler Hall May 18. Dr. Carson overcame poverty and a broken home in Detroit to become a world-renowned surgeon. Following are excerpts from his address.
I was not a particularly good student, and that's putting it mildly. I had no competition for last spot in my class. I was always the first one to sit down in a spelling bee, always a big goose egg when there was a math test. I had a major philosophical disagreement with a math teacher, who seemed to think that you should know your times tables. As far as I was concerned, they were printed on the back of my notebook, so why should I waste time memorizing them?
When I was in the fifth grade, I was a walking ``TV Guide.'' I could tell you about every television program, every day, every hour. All the jams on the radio; all the latest fashion; every car going down the street, make, model and price.
My mother had only a third-grade education and worked two or three jobs as a domestic, cleaning people's houses, but she started turning off the TV and making us read books and submit to her book reports. And we didn't know that she couldn't read, so she pulled a fast one on us. But it was a wonderful thing, because I started reading books. I read every animal book in the Detroit public library, and then I went on to the plants, and then I went on to the rocks.
I recognized that I wasn't dumb at all. I was tired of being called ``Dummy.'' You never saw me anywhere without a book. If I was waiting for the bus, I had a book. If I was in the bathroom, I had a book. Within the space of a year and half, I went from the bottom of the class to the top of the class, much to the consternation of all those people who used to call me ``Dummy.'' By the time I was in the seventh grade, the same ones would come to me and say, ``Benjamin, how do you work this math problem?'' And I would say, ``Sit at my feet, youngster, while I instruct you.''
I had the same brain in the fifth grade as I had in the seventh grade. What had happened was that there was a major reorganization in my thinking process.
A survey done a few years ago looked at the ability of eighth-graders in science and math in 22 nations. We were one of the 22, and we weren't in the top five. In fact, we were number 21 out of 22. This is a problem because we have moved into the information age. Most of us were born in the industrial age, where all you needed was a strong back and a willingness to work and you could do OK. That's vanishing. Being number 21 out of 22 is not going to carry us very far.
Some people say, well, this is the United States of America. We're great, we're powerful, we're mighty, we're No. 1. Rome said that. Greece said that. Egypt said that. And it was true. They were No. 1. And then they became enamored of sports, entertainment and lifestyles of the rich and famous, and they went right down the tubes.
That could happen in our nation. My suspicion is that if that survey were done again, but instead of looking at knowledge of science and math it looked at knowledge of sports and entertainment, no one could touch us. We have become a nation that can tell you everything you want to know about Michael Jordan, Michael Jackson and Madonna and the Academy Award winners and things that really don't amount to a hill of beans. If all the sports stars disappeared tonight, it wouldn't make any difference. But if all the garbage collectors disappeared tonight, we'd be in trouble. It's a matter of perspective.
When an average baseball player makes as much for hitting a ball with a stick 20 or 30 percent of the time as 100 schoolteachers put together, what kind of message is that sending to our young people?
Many have heard the phrase, The young black male in America is an endangered species. Why should you care? Think about this. There are more young black males today in jail then are in college. Even though all our ancestors came here in different boats, we're in the same boat now. If part of the boat sinks, eventually the rest of it goes down, too. by CNB