Commencement Address

by

# William E. Kennard

Chairman, Federal Communications Commission

at

Howard University

Washington, D.C.

May 13, 2000

**THE CHALLENGE TO GENERATION D:**

**BEYOND THE COLOR LINE**

(As Prepared for Delivery)

Thank you, President Swygert, and thank you, Chairman Savage, for this
honor. I feel very privileged to address your commencement ceremony on
this glorious day.

My congratulations to the graduates. I commend each of you\--especially
students graduating magna cum laude or summa cum laude or cum laude, and
all the parents who are just thinking, "It's finally graduation day,
thank you, Lordy"\--I congratulate you all.

I did not attend Howard. But I am an heir to this institution. We all
are. Because, each of us stands on the shoulders of those who walked the
grounds of this special place.

We stand on the shoulders of Howard University President Mordecai Wyatt
Johnson, who helped introduce Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. to nonviolence;
and America became an heir to a revolution for social justice.

We stand on the shoulders of Howard University's Dr. Carter G. Woodson,
who authored new chapters in the history of our people; and all
Americans became heirs to a history as rich, as diverse, as compelling
as those represented in this millennial graduating class.

We stand on the shoulders of Howard alumni Toni Morrison and Zora Neal
Hurston. They painted a portrait of the African-American family; and all
Americans became heirs to stories so rich, so textured, so lovingly
detailed that they changed the face of 20th century American literature.

We stand on the shoulders of Howard's Charles Hamilton Houston. He made
the law school a civil rights citadel where lawyers like Thurgood
Marshall, Vernon Jordan and President James Madison Nabrit Jr. were
trained to battle for justice; and all Americans, all Americans, became
heirs to laws that can, in the words of the prophet Amos, allow "justice
to roll down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream."

And we stand on the shoulders of Howard's Dr. Benjamin Hooks. He was a
pioneer of civil rights as the head of the NAACP and the first
African-American member of the Federal Communications Commission.

As the FCC's first African-American chairman, I stand on his shoulders.

I know one thing, I would not be standing before you today as Chairman
of the FCC were it not for this institution.

Howard's story is our story, the story of African-American families.

We must recognize those most responsible for this graduation: the
mothers and fathers, the grandmothers and grandfathers, the aunts and
uncles.

These are the people who cosigned the student loans, loaded the U-Haul
trucks, paid the tuition or promised to, those who sent the care
packages and paid for the collect calls, who wired the money\--who
borrowed money from your aunt\--who borrowed from your uncle\--who gave
the money to your mother\--who [pretended]{.underline} to loan it to
you.

Today we recognize them all. As you graduate into this www.dot-com
economy, never, [EVER]{.underline} forget those who taught you your
ABC's.

Thinking about families, I cannot help but think about my own
grandfather and the lessons he taught his family.

My grandfather\--his name was James Kennard\--worked on the network that
formed the foundation of the Industrial Age. He was a Pullman porter on
the railroads\--it was in fact the best job a black man could have on
the railroad in those days.

My grandfather was a brilliant man. A learned man. A beautiful writer.
He could quote everything from the Bible to Shakespeare. And my
grandfather was completely self-taught\--a man whose only professor was
his own curiosity.

And yet he rode the rails for years and could go nowhere. He could be a
part of the most important industrial network of his time, so long as he
stayed in his place as the man who carried the bags.

My grandfather wanted to find a better life for his family. So he left
the segregated south and moved them to California.

But even in California, the black children would go to one school, the
white children to another. It turns out that the black school was across
town. The white school was a few blocks away.

When my father was five, my grandfather sent him off to the neighborhood
school. And they sent my dad home.

The principal said, "colored children can't go to this school."

The next day, my grandfather dressed my father up and sent him back to
that school. And they sent him home again. My grandfather said, "you
belong there." So he sent him back again. And again. It was tough on my
dad\--kids used to chase him home and throw rocks at him. But he was
quick and wiry\--like me. So he made it.

And finally, the principal relented. "Okay," he said. "We'll take the
Kennard boy."

My grandfather taught my dad that when the doors of opportunity are
closed, you knock. And when nobody answers, you keep knocking. And if
nobody answers that door of opportunity, then you break that door down
and walk on through.

My grandfather taught his son to smash through glass ceilings maintained
by the insecure and the incompetent. My grandfather taught his son that
when a road block lies in your path, you drive under it, around it,
through it, over it\--that you let nothing stand in the way of your
dreams.

That was my grandfather's lesson to my father and my father's lesson to
me. And I know it is Howard's lesson to you.

Today you receive degrees in your diverse fields\--engineering,
literature, medicine and law. But you go forth from this campus as more
than specialists in any field. You are heirs to a tradition\--a
tradition that teaches us we can do anything we dream and demands that
we bring everyone along.

It's a powerful tradition embodied in your motto: "Leadership for
America and the Global Community."

Now this tradition certainly echoes in the story of Andrew Young.

Andy is another distinguished graduate of this institution\--an heir to
this tradition. Andy is a pioneer of the civil rights movement. He was a
mayor\--a congressman\--an ambassador to the United Nations.

For Andy Young, a lifetime of achievement began by asking one question.
In his memoir, *An Easy Burden,* he tells the story that after three
years at Howard of not seriously applying himself, he had the uneasy
feeling that he was not doing all that he could with what he had.

In the summer before his senior year at Howard, Andy returned to his
hometown of New Orleans. He ran into an old friend named Lincoln. They
talked about the different paths they had taken in life.

Despite growing up at the same time, in the same community, they didn't
have the same opportunity.

Andy's mother and father were able to send him to college. Lincoln's
mother struggled to raise eight children by herself. While Andy was
looking forward to a life of new opportunity, Lincoln had dropped out of
school. One thing led to another, and he finally ended up in jail.

Andy returned to Howard unable to put Lincoln out of his mind. Thinking
about Lincoln, a verse from the book of Luke tugged at Andy's soul:

"To whom much is given, much is required."

And Andy asked himself: "What will be required of me?"

We all know that Andy Young answered that question with words and work,
declaration and deeds, a lifetime of service and sacrifice.

And that brings me to my challenge for this graduating class\--for you
the heirs to the tradition of Howard\--this tradition of producing
leaders for America and the global community.

*To whom much is given, much is required.*

Much has been given to you. I call you GENERATION D, the digital
generation. You will graduate into a world where the Internet will give
you instantaneous access to global markets; where you can use a device
that you will hold in the palm of your hand to access more information
than is contained in the Howard University library. And I know you will
go forward to invent even greater technologies and with them you will
achieve what we cannot even imagine today.

But the promise of this digital era is not just building smarter
devices. It is building stronger communities.

Technology cannot give every American access to opportunity until every
American has access to technology.

At the dawn of the last century, W.E.B. DuBois said, "the problem of the
20th century is the problem of the color line." At the dawn of this
century, our challenge is to make sure that the color line does not
determine who is on-line.

Thirty-five years ago, President Lyndon Johnson stood here and delivered
a landmark address on civil rights.

He said those now famous words: "You cannot take a person who, for
years, has been hobbled by chains and liberate him, bring him up to the
starting line of a race and then say, 'You are free to compete with all
the others,' and still justly believe that you have been completely
fair."

What Lyndon Johnson said 35 years ago is even more true today. Because
today the race is being run on Internet time. The race track is a global
network of fiber-optic lines, broadband cables and wireless connections
over which ones and zeroes race at Internet speed. Those who start
behind will stay behind\--and this race runs so fast they will never
catch up.

And we are already off to an uneven start. Blacks and Hispanics are only
40 percent as likely as whites to have Internet access at home. This gap
between the information haves and haves-nots is called the digital
divide.

Now some people argue there is no digital divide. In fact, it is an
argument brought to you by the same folks who say we live in a
color-blind society. Frankly, I don't know what country those people
live in. It certainly isn't the America I know.

That is why I have devoted my tenure at the FCC to bridging this divide
of opportunity\--to preventing the color line from deciding who is
on-line\--to ensuring that every American has access to the tools of the
21st century.

I believe that ensuring that all Americans have access to technology is
the civil rights challenge of this new millennium.

We will not meet this challenge until all of our children are as
interested in becoming Michael Dell as they are in becoming Michael
Jordan\--when they would rather have the latest laptops than the latest
high-tops.

And for me, meeting that challenge\--embracing public service\--has been
the most exhilarating experience of my life.

I have seen the faces of children in our inner cities light up as they
surf the web for the first time and...then I've known the reward of
crafting the policies that will wire a million classrooms to the
Internet.

Thanks to the vision of President Clinton and Vice President Gore, since
1997 this country has invested 10 billion dollars to connect our schools
to the Internet. It's a program called the E-rate. And I am proud to say
that in three years we have wired one million classrooms to the
Internet, improving the lives of 40 million American children.

And I have visited the homes of Native Americans on reservations in New
Mexico and Arizona. Too many of them are still waiting for a telephone.
I heard their stories too. They told me about what it is like to live in
the 21st century without a telephone, when you can't call your doctor or
an ambulance or the police.

Then I've known the satisfaction of working with my FCC colleagues on
proposals to bring basic telephone service to over a million low-income
Indian people on tribal lands.

I have had the privilege of meeting almost every one of the CEOs of the
high-tech sector\--these 20- and 30-something billionaires who,
overnight, have created almost unimaginable wealth. And, you know, not
one of those CEOs who have walked through my door is African-American,
and that has got to change. And you are going to change it.

I have heard the stories of Americans with disabilities who worry that
this Internet revolution will pass them by...and then celebrated with
them as we created the rules to ensure that they will have access to
this wondrous technology.

I am proud of the work that we have done to bring all Americans into the
Information Age together\--to bridge the digital divide. But we have
only just begun. And what my generation has done is but a prelude to
what this generation can do\--as heirs to the Howard tradition. So I
want to leave you with one question: what is required of you?

What is required of you? The very same determination that enabled your
families here today to put sacrifice before self, to put your tuition
before their vacations, your graduation before their retirement.

What is required of you? Not merely net worth but the wealth of
character that declares across this yawning digital divide: leave no one
behind, bring everyone along.

What is required of you? Not merely a degree but the knowledge that a
Howard University diploma means that you are not only qualified to
compete but blessed to serve.

What is required of you? Service. So much so, the legacy of the Howard
tradition bears eloquent witness to the truth of the poet who wrote:

No vision and you perish;

No ideal, and you\'re lost;

Your heart must ever cherish,

Some faith at any cost.

Some hope, some dream to cling to,

Some rainbow in the sky,

Some melody to sing to,

Some service that is high.

What is required of you? That when the call is heard, to answer in the
words of the prophet Isaiah, "Here I am. Send me."

What is required of you? To heed the book of Ephesians, "having done all
to stand, just stand."

And now having studied, worked, saved, persevered, persisted through
sacrifice and dreamed...simply stand.

As you receive your diplomas today, stand.

Stand with [my]{.underline} grandfather.

Stand with your mothers.

Stand with your fathers.

Stand with all the members of your family.

Stand with your classmates.

Stand with your professors.

And stand with the untold multitude of Howard alumni who brought you to
where you are\--that you might lead this nation to where it should be.

Congratulations and thank you very much.