Eric Morris is one of my dearest friends in the world. In many ways, our lives have been on parallel tracks. We attended the same schools, however never sat in the same classrooms as he was a year my senior, the same church, and our beloved mothers actually sat next to each other every Sunday on the same pew, listening to the same word of God via the Rev. Archie Johnson and the Rev. Dr. Johnny R. Heckard.

Yet, we are opposites in regards to our personalities. While Eric is an extrovert capable of engaging anyone, I am solidly in the camp of ambiverts, an introvert around unfamiliar settings and people and an extrovert around close friends and a few family members. I’ll tell you the truth. There were times when I thought that Eric’s life mission was to poke, prod, and provide commentary regarding everything that he encountered, particularly my stoic demeanor.

I remember the following question as if it were presented to me yesterday. In his joyful, yet inquisitive manner, Eric articulated the following.

Man, let me ask you something. Why are you so serious You don’t drink, you don’t smoke, all that you do is read, write, and think. Hell, what do you do for fun Many you are way too serious about life. 

Of all of our thousands of verbal exchanges this inquiry stands as a prominent memory for a host of reasons. Within this question I found a description of myself — I have actually never had a drink of alcohol or smoked anything (I was frightened by what would occur if I used any type of drugs because addiction runs in my family), yet it simultaneously show that even my closest friends never realized that my actions were aimed at fulfilling a directive my mother and the surrounding Black community provided early in my life. If I had to put this directive in words, it would be stated in the following way.

You are our soldier and your primary duty is to engage and defeat the adversary at every turn through any methods available. This is a life’s work that will only be accomplished via the total dedication of your life.    

I will tell you the truth; there is not a period in my life that was not dedicated to fulfilling this Herculean task. I was motivated by the fact that there was work to do, people to save, others to inspire, and the sacrifice of my life was not too big of an ask.   

This calling serves as propulsion for my lectures and the unyielding demand that I be referred to as DR. JAMES THOMAS JONES III. Despite what many may think about the fact that I will not respond to anything other than Dr. Jones, the truth of the matter is that this demand flows from an interaction with an elderly Black lady who approached me on my campus and related how it lifted her spirits to see that “Black folk are now called Doctor this and Doctor that. Y’all keep on keepin’ on. I love it!!!!!!!”

This pivotal moment in my life has risen to the forefront of my mind due to my own “keep on keeping on” moment. I recently viewed a group of medical students from Tulane University posing for a photo on the Whitney Plantation. Sydney Labat, one of the students in the photo, provided the following caption for the powerful moment.  

Standing in front of the slave quarters of our ancestors, at the Whitney Plantation, with my medical school classmates. We are truly our ancestors’ wildest dreams.

I can only speak for myself in stating that there is no more fulfilling occurrence than when a student reaches a significant marker in their lives be it graduation, entrepreneurship, marriage, etc. and continues a path of ascension that I know makes our ancestors say “Keep on keepin’ on.”

I salute these future medical doctors and all young people for their steadfast determination to engage and conquer the many obstacles standing between their current station and ultimate destination. I pray that they remember that this entire world is in desperate need of their contributions and counting on their success as it serves as yet another dose of wind that educators such as myself will use to stay afloat in the arduous struggle to continue the historical struggle to throw up roads to success where there has previously not been any road or light.

Keep on keepin’ on y’all.

Dr. James Thomas Jones III

© Manhood, Race, and Culture, 2019.