New Contenders Emerge in Quest to Identify Yale’s First African-American Graduate. Moses Simons edges out previous titleholders

The venerable NY Times is taking time for introspection: New Contenders Emerge in Quest to Identify Yale’s First African-American Graduate. Amazingly, Marquel, TPV’s Times Correspondent has the real scoop: 1807 graduate edges out two recently discovered erstwhile titleholders.

Marquel didn’t know if it mattered who was the first black graduate of Yale. It’s sort of like Who Was the First Gay Graduate. Or the first with no cavities. Or the first to conduct a panty raid, who almost certainly had also been the first gay since it was all male for the first hundred years or so.

So Marquel went looking for somebody who could answer the central question:

Who cares?

Probably the researchers. They must have a reason. I was going to see the Yale archivist.

She said, “to set the historical record. It’s important factual evidence”

“Of what,” I asked.

“Of who was the first African-American at Yale,” she answered.

“But that’s circular,” I objected. “Why is it important to know that?”

“Well did you know that Moses Simons was also out first Jewish graduate?” She queried.

“Well that makes him the first Jew, not the first black.” I said pointedly.

“He’s both,” she said proudly.

“Doesn’t that take away something from both achievements,” I asked stupidly, having no reason to ask such a dumb question except that I really didn’t like her patrician airs.

Sure enough she took my outlandishly stupid question seriously, “No, I think it’s possible to be the first black and first Jew simultaneously,”

“We’ll see about that,” I said determinedly, having no idea what I meant, but repeated one time for the record, “still why is it important?”

She sighed and said, “I think history is always important.” I had the feeling she had met my stupidity with an equal amount. That couldn’t be a good reason.

I went up to Harlem and approached a group of young blacks fooling around. I told them that someone was claiming the first black man to go to Yale was also Jewish.

“No way, man,” said one, “you’re either black or you’re a Jew. You can’t be both.”

“So what would you call him?” I asked.

“When was this,” the young man asked.

“1807,” I said.

“He’d be black” he asserted, “forget that Jewish shit”

“Really?” I asked.

They all nodded in agreement, while one said, “that Jewish shit was just to get into college. My sister did the same to get into Brandeis”

“No kidding,” I said, noting that suddenly the mood had changed. I felt they resented talking about how their lives were essentially devoted to either pleasing or fooling whitey.

Their was a bit of anger in the air and suddenly I didn’t fit in. I knew what I had to do. Humor. At my expense. “Hey, I said, “did you know my mama was so fat that when a recipe called for a pound of grease she just popped a zit?”

First they looked disgusted but then we all high fived and I was on my way back to Yale but when I got there I decided to continue down the road to Harvard. Why not, they might understand history better.

The Dean welcomed me, saying he was reluctant to criticize Yale. And he didn’t see my point that Simon Moses had to be either first black or first Jew at Yale, even though my buds in Harlem saw it clearly.

“Well, I said, it’s seems to take away from both. And also, “I added, “it seems like they’re kind of double dipping. It seems to me if you’re ivy league, you ought to go to the trouble of getting one from each group, not cheating by getting a double dipper.”

“Well it would be better to get as many, not as few, minorities as you can,” he said eagerly.

“So, ” I asked, “do you think any of this is really important? I mean, who cares was first?”

“You’re right there,” he answered. “I’d be less concerned who was the first black than who was the last.”

“Like the last this year?” I agreed excitedly.

“No I mean the last ever.” He said somberly.

“How do you mean?” I asked.

“Well this whole Obama thing has really damaged our endowment. People are angry he turned out not to be a real democrat. Even our republican donors could have taken that. It’s what they expected. But this do nothing approach has dulled Harvard’s shine. Remember TR went here. We are not do nothings.”

“So no more blacks at Harvard?” I asked.

“No no,” he averred,” we’re still actively recruiting. But we’re using different labels to avoid this anti Obama pushback.”

“Labels?” I asked.

“Yes,” he answered, “we’ve decided to forego Afro American. Also African American. Obviously not the n word.”

“Nigger, you mean,” I said.

“Err yes,” he said, blushing. “So we can’t use those, or black, or colored, or people of color of course.”

“So what’ll it be, Harvard?” I asked flippantly.”There’s not much left.”

“Well they’re just like you and me, in the end, ” he said.

“So you’re going too call them you or me?” I asked with disbelief.

“No I wasn’t finished,” he chided me. “The only difference is they have darker skin that’s it.”

“So?” I urged.

“So we’re going to, from now on,” he said, “call them darkie.”

“You can’t do that, ” I said.

“Why not?”” He asked.

“It’s an old old racial pejorative.” I riposted.

“”Not to my knowledge,” he said, “and the whole faculty voted on it. Barack Obama was our last black graduate. Now we’re set for a whole new generation of darkies.”

I left his office and hitched home. On the way I pondered the importance of history and realized sometimes it’s good to have a long memory.