AFTER the past few "Good Guys," one might actually believe that Gus Blagden, the University student for whom the award was named after in the 1960s, was a strong and faithful Christian black man. The fact that in the past three years alone and next year as well- the Lawn room designated for a student who upholds high moral character has gone to a phenomenal series of selfless African-American students is an interesting contemporary phenomenon. After four years, we would be remiss in not recognizing the fact that this honor, and these students, who champion struggles for equal rights, equal education and use the Bible as their weapon of choice is significant.
Witnessing the smiling face of an African-American grace the front cover of this newspaper, chosen by their peers as the exemplary model of humility and genuine concern for others has in earnest almost become an annual tradition. Among all undergraduates within the University community, to think that each year a black student is the face of "goodness" at this institution is not only more noteworthy than the simplistic and race-less CD news article ("Adkins wins 'good guy' room," April 8) makes it out to be; in fact it is that much more monumental given the current state of race relations, and the ongoing concern that black students have here about their place at this University.
At the same time that black men in this community are nearly cornered to give blood samples to find a serial rapist, and others fight diligently simply to host events and successfully recruit black students to an institution waning in its public persona with the regard to diversity, comes this promising news at the close of each year. Skeptics might think the world and the University, at this point, are unfair, and that this small token of a room on the Lawn is that just indeed -- merely a token. But if you know the "Good Guys" who've lived on the Lawn, and the few other African-American students who have accepted their rightful place among the University's elite, then you would understand that their unselfish characters and hard work have actually paid off in some degree.
The fact that each year African-American students stake a claim in, and receive, this honor is more than just a tremendous accomplishment for them personally, but it is also an important signifier for black students attending the University, who can observe one of their peers receive this honor and watch that peer make a corner of Jefferson's institution -- albeit a small one -- a place for their own.
Each year, students wait with bated breath to find out if they are one of few Lawn residents, selected by an almost all-politico set of "peers" only to find that although they thought they might have been, they never were quite "in" on the "in crowd." Though in recent years, the selections committee has sought to wash up any dirty laundry in the selections process by openly recruiting students who aren't in on the U.Va. political or leadership scenes, the standards and sentiments for most outsiders seem to all be truly bent to those involved in a certain segment of the U.Va. world, and for most black students, this world is certainly not theirs.
"The Good Guy Room," however, has simultaneously become a beacon for black students, the home of at least one resident whom they know has a heart that still resides in, and works as a part of, their community. What Brian Edmonds, Ambrose Faturoti, Tamika Lockhart and now Amey Adkins have done for the little West Lawn room is house an entire community of hope, in the Christian faith and in the strong work ethic of all of the African-American students and workers, who on behalf of the University had much to do with building this place.
If Blagden were as selflessly committed to the welfare of other students, as most accounts of his presence here at the University say that he was, then he wouldn't mind at all that the University's most honored "Good Guy" awards have been given to students who are outgoing, altruistic and African-American. And the University, paying close attention and remarking on these progressive distinctions, instead of pretending to live in a colorless society that doesn't mention them or the significance of the honors, plays just as much a part of creating an environment for black students who deserve to be recognized because they are just as much a part of this community.
This weeks' opinion is to make nothing more than an interesting parallel. Interesting because although there are no named buildings or structures on Grounds designated for any of the tens of thousands of African-Americans who built them, the one student award truly designated to someone who lives their life in full service, has gone to an African American student committed to their education, committed to their community and most of all, committed to the ideal that their faith will carry them through the toughest times in their college careers. Perhaps African Americans of the past can look upon these pioneers on the Lawn and smile, as they benefit from years of hard work, resolve and perseverance -- the most honored and worthwhile form of service there is.
Kazz Alexander Pinkard's column usually appears Thursdays in The Cavalier Daily. He can be reached at kpinkard@cavalierdaily.com.