By Dr. Harold A. Black

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haroldblackphd.com

When I was growing up, my parents made me and my brother work. In elementary school, they decided to put in a basement by digging out the dirt under the house. My brother and I had to take out so many wheelbarrows of dirt before we could go out to play. In high school, we were made to work during the summers doing menial work for minimum wages. We washed dishes and bussed tables. We didn’t complain—we now had money of our own. I bought books and records. We never thought of those jobs as menial. We knew that we were not going to earn that low wage as adults. We were living at home so any monies earned were disposable and not used for rent or food or utilities. We knew we were going to college. Although my parents went to HBCUs, my brother wanted to be an engineer but was barred from going to Georgia Tech so he went to Purdue. I wanted to follow him to Purdue but was forced to go to the University of Georgia when that university was ordered to desegregate. The state was paying my brother’s out-of-state tuition when Tech was segregated and took away that funding when Georgia was ordered to admit its first black students. Dad could not afford to send us both out of state and told me to find an alternative. I found the University of Georgia. While at Georgia, unbeknownst to my parents I worked to supplement the money they sent me monthly. One of my closest friends was the head waiter at a local restaurant and I...

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