Now it is my great pleasure to
introduce a senior who was chosen by you
the class of 2017, to address you this
morning. He is a Amir Hall, who graduates
today with a major in English. Amir is
from Trinidad and Tobago. Emir.
That was a long walk yo.
Good morning.
Where do you come from
and how did you arrive?
These are two questions at one of my favorite
poets Bhanu Kapil asks in her poem, 12
questions. To help with this question
I'll begin with a story. One evening when
my parents picked me up from school I
got into the backseat of the car and
fell asleep promptly, among the bags of
groceries that they must have bought
along the way When we got home I was
awakened by my mother, opening the back
doors. It was then that I felt my
father's hand slipping underneath me, one
cradling my head and the other just
underneath my legs.
He nestled me in one arm and he took a
grocery bag in the other. "My baby tired?"
he asked. I really only responded by
borrowing my head into his shoulder. I
woke up when I felt myself falling onto
my bed. Between my barely opened eyes I
could see my father letting the wind
unfurl the sheets above me, so that they
fell on my body without a whisper.
Mummy, who's tuning in right now shout
outs, was the sole onlooker at my bedroom
door. I was 14
This is where I come from. My father's
arms, my mother's gaze and the comfort of
their sheets. Upon your arrival here in
our first year I'm sure you had some
idea of where you came from, yeah. And
when I recently
asked graduating seniors about where
they came from the answers varied. some
said my mother's womb. Some said Abuja in
Nigeria. Well, one one prison did. Hey!
Columbia, Maryland and the public school
in Cleveland. These communities we come
from were also our means of arrival to
the hills of Amherst. We all can think of
people from those communities and those
schools that have helped us on our
trajectory here. Many of those people are
sitting behind you today for one last
time and for the first time for some of
us, they are here to help you pack
your clothes fold your bedding and begin
the next segment of your journey.
Ten years down the line when someone asks
where do you come from, Amherst College
will be added to the long list of places
that you name. You will undoubtedly
remember this quad, frisbee colonized
as it is. Our Lord and Savior the moose.
What happened to Pete?
The eerie lights of Merrel after midnight.
And the always awkward Val. When someone
asks how did you arrive, hopefully you
will remember the people you met here
who helped carry you along the way.
Siana McCall in her speech at senior
assembly spoke of one spoke of one of
her favorite professors here. Professor
Cobham-Sander. And the
indelible impact that that professor
made on her life. At the end of my first
semester here, Professor Cobham-Sander
invited our class over for dinner.
I didn;'t go because I had struggled that
semester and performed porly in her
class, and I was too ashamed. I slept
instead of going to her house and later,
I received a text from one of the
members of the class, letting me know
that professor had sent some home-cooked
food for me in Tupperware. Four classes
and many home-cooked meals later,
professor Cobham-Sander has been at every
corner and every crossroad and sometimes
I think she actually knows my future. And is
just telling me how to get to it.
When I think of how I arrived here I
think of faculty and staff members, like
her, who have carried me through
some of the most tough experiences that
I could have had. I also think of
students who carry each other on this
campus in significant ways. One notable
example was Amherst Uprising, organized by
Lerato Teffo , Sanyu Takirambudde, and
Katyana Dandridge. What began as
solidarity began to become a space of
vulnerability. When people of color began
sharing their own experiences with
racism here on campus. We listened to
each other and in so doing were reminded
that AMherst College had a lot of
work to do to support its students of
color. During that weekend we began that
work. On the third day of a Amherst uprising
I stood in awe
in the lobby of the library as groups of
folks composing staff, students and
faculty brainstormed what initiatives
might help address the needs that we had
identified. What amazed me was that we
were all there. Although the movement
was student-led, it wasn't
students against administration or
students against faculty. Each group was
there and invested in making the college
better. Even then we were a community
carrying each other. In addition to the
big things, like engaging in on campus
activism, we will also remember the
smaller more tender carryings. Like my
first year roommate Kendall Sims, who
always shared his chocolate milk with me,
or that one time I didn't pack any of my
room, until the day before I had to leave
the country. Lola Fadulu led a whole
group of my closest friends, in the
effort to pack my room and hence save my
life. Today we celebrate the friends who
put that garbage bin and bottle of water
beside your bed.
mmm-hmm Remember that friend that
Facebook messaged you about the homework
assignment that was due the next day? We
remember the friends that ventured into
the socials with you, against all their
better judgment. And remember the
friends that brought you Val, when Val
was too much. 3 much. Did you all get it?
And those who sent texts to remind you that
you could do it. When my father passed
away, in the spring of my junior year,
this community did not falter. Recent
alumni, professors and staff members
called and emailed to offer their
condolences. Many of you graduating
seniors also reached out. Nayah
Mullings was the first person I called,
Barely awake she held me in the best
ways that she knew. Bese Birhanu
call that evening too. And willfully bore
my pain with me. George Ward sent an
email, in which he said, though we are an
ocean apart I am here for you. What
George said illustrates a unique truth
about that experience for me.
The Amherst College community took me
through one of the most difficult
experiences of my life. Even when I was
not physically here.
What this shows is the capacity for this
community to extend beyond these
physical peripheries. After today we will
not be here we will be miles or even
oceans apart, but I am certain that this
community will hold you all the way. The
folks sitting next to you, in front of you,
join the immense crowd sitting behind
you in the efforts to carry you through
this life. On behalf of our class I would
like to thank those people and
communities we came from, for bringing us
to the hills of Amherst.
You have made sacrifices, you have
scolded us amd you have offered us
praise. Those of you here and those of
you who couldn't make it, #mom, I thank you.
I would also like to thank the people we
met here at Amherst College who have
carried us through our four years here. I
speak of the staff and faculty. Those who
got extra sauce for my rice. As you know,
I need sauce. Those who stayed late in
office hours, cried with us and sought to
teach us. Thank you. And we cannot speak
of carrying if we do not speak of the
women, especially black queer women, in
the class who have done the bulk of the
emotional and organizational work that
brought us to this place. Thank you.
And lastly I invite the class of
2017 to extend our thanks to each other.
We have won and lost games, danced and
sung and submitted papers late with each
other. Sometimes all in the same day. It's
very true. And when someone asks you where
you come from, know
that you came from Amherst College and
that Amherst College has given you this
community. These are the people who will
stand at your wedding altars and come to
your book signings. They will text with
you through boring meetings at work. They
will attend your future graduations. They
will definitely send you memes, and they
will spoil your children. Like my father
carrying me at 14 years old you're stuck
with them. They will be here for you and
we will carry each other through.
Thank you.