“The time is always right to do what is right.” — Martin Luther King, Jr., 1968
The 86-year-old man hobbled to the podium, about to address an auditorium filled with college juniors and seniors.
We shifted in our seats, wondering what lessons of modern sensibilities we, resident assistants assembled for training, could gain from someone then associated with the university for seven decades.
He sized up the crowd and opened with: “I’m an old man.”
Polite laughter ensued. Then, as if to underscore the generation gap that yawned before us, he followed up:
“I’m a VERY old man.”
George K. Makechnie (lovingly referred to as “Dean George” by all who knew him) was dean of one college, acting dean of two others, and a founder of a fourth; his association with Boston University spanned 80 years.
Throughout that unprecedented tenure, his energy and optimism were infectious, and his vision for breaking down the barriers that divide us was less an ideal than a way of life.
I happened to pick his 70 Stories About Boston University, 1923 – 1993 off the shelf recently, browsing through some of his tales of his time associated with BU.
In 1953, he befriended Howard Thurman, who had been named dean of Marsh Chapel. Thurman, co-founder of the Church for the Fellowship of All Peoples in San Francisco, became the first black person to become a dean at a predominantly white university, and his and Makechnie’s philosophies were as one.
Each of them stood by his principles, secure in the knowledge that they were right and just. Makechnie related this story about such an instance in his book:
In 1953, it took an act of courage [by university president Harold C. Case] to nominate a black man for such a position, and it met with opposition in high places.
In 1956, the same courageous president asked me to withdraw my nomination of a candidate for a position in physical therapy because the individual was black and Catholic. His argument was that physical therapy treatment by one with such a background would be influenced negatively. I refused, saying that I found no validity in his position.
There ensued a long pause in the telephone conversation, which I finally broke, saying: "Harold, in my view there are three options and they are all yours: As president you can overrule a dean, or you can support a dean, or you can get a new dean. I cannot in conscience withdraw the nomination."
Later I learned that Case made a stronger supportive statement to the trustees about the candidate than I would have made. She was appointed.
Does not a subordinate officer have a duty to oppose a position being taken by his or her superior officer on a given issue when in the subordinate's judgment that position may have unfortunate consequences?
Dean George stood by his conviction, even in the face of potential termination — one of the options he himself suggested.
Could he have knuckled under and acceded to the president’s wish? Of course. But what would that have said about his character?
Makechnie’s courageous and steadfast defense of equality underscored his integrity, and not only influenced President Case to be an even greater champion of the cause, but likely instilled a deeper respect for Dean George.
In 1986, he dedicated the Howard Thurman Center for Common Ground, which not only honored Thurman’s legacy, but Makechnie’s as well. It stands as a reminder that there is much more that unites us than divides us, and it starts with knowing yourself.
“When you can go deep down inside yourself, really know who you are and are secure in who you are—then—you can find yourself in every other human being.” — Howard Thurman
When you know what you stand for, courage is an afterthought.
As Henry VI told himself in Shakepeare’s 1591 eponymous play, “Thrice is he armed who hath his quarrel just.”
There’s so much to learn,
Of course integrity and courage go together as integrity requires courage of us. So many will be proving this in the next four years as principle we hold dear come under attack. Mary Baker Eddy called “moral courage” “the king of the mental realm.”