Day of Reflection on Monday, June 8

In the spirit of the recent notification from Chancellor John Sharp, I'm designating Monday, June 8, as a day for all of us, in our own way, to focus our thoughts and prayers on the memorial services that will be held for George Floyd in Houston. For many, his tragic death has been a source of great sorrow, but there is also reason for great hope that we are not simply witnessing, but that we are actually participating in, a fervent reawakening of the American spirit in opposition to inequity and injustice. For those of you who have work assignments on Monday, you may step away from them at your discretion and use the day as a time for reflection. There will be no need to request leave time.

I've struggled with my own emotions during the past few days, not simply over what I've witnessed during that period of time, but also over what I've witnessed over a lifetime as an educator. And while many of those thoughts are still chasing around in my head, I'd like to offer you some of my own, personal reflections in the context of what I've witnessed, and its implications for this place we affectionately call "our university":

A&M-Central Texas is in many ways a unique institution, but in none more so than the demographic of its students. Almost 60% are students of color, representing multiple ethnic groups, most notably Black and Hispanic, but with significant contingents of Asian, Pacific Islander, and even Native American students as well. In general, our students tend to be somewhat older, having started or returned to college later in their lives. Many are serving or have served in the military. Yet a steadily growing number are as young as 18, graduates of an Early College High School program, or they're transferring in from area community colleges at a more traditional college-going age.

Our students swirl together within a still developing learning environment at this young university, but one eager to confirm the promise in each of them as revealed through their own unique perceptions, goals, and abilities. But sometimes even that enthusiastic, well-intentioned environment can almost unwittingly divert or even shelter them from confronting the systemic, frequently harsh realities of inequity, racial bias, and injustice.

The world, however, has a way of awakening all of us to those realities, and with the tragic, senseless death of yet another person of color — George Floyd — they have taken deep root in all of us. They have changed, perhaps forever, our fervently desired sense of well-being within this country, this state, this community, or this university. They question the depth of our belief in the value of life, and seem to challenge our will and ability to do good. They shake our spirit. George Floyd's death is another painful call to engage and to value one another, to uplift one another, to love one another. And it becomes imperative that we reach out to our students, helping them face the reality of his death, while instilling in them a commitment to the value of his life, a value not contingent upon color of skin, family origin, or social status.

It's been a hard lesson for all of us to learn and, God forgive us, all too often it's been a hard one for us to teach. But God bless George Floyd and rest his soul for sharing it with us again. Black lives do matter. His life mattered deeply to his family and his friends, and now through their grief, they are sharing it with all of us. This time we must make it matter — at this university, we must commit to make it deeply matter — to and through our teachers — to and through all members of our staff — and with God's help, and the memory of George Floyd — to and through our students.
— MN