Martin Luther King Jr. in Westwood Elementary School is the official name of the school — my former elementary school that is.
And I’ll never forget what a mouthful it was to say. However, to all the kids in the surrounding neighborhoods, it was known as “MLK”.
To this day, I still refer to it by the abbreviation rather than the unnecessarily long official title. And it’s for that reason that, to this day, when I hear “MLK” it takes me back to one specific memory, a memory that encompasses the teachings and values of Dr. King himself and one that defines my time at MLK Elementary.
It was my first day of fourth grade and my first day attending “MLK” period. I had just changed schools. I knew nobody and was completely nervous and uncomfortable in my new surroundings. The first order of business in class was picking locker partners.
I was the new kid and had nothing but a few moments before class started to mingle with my new classmates. Alphabetically by last name, I was naturally near the top of the class list.
It was finally my turn and my nerves were running at an all-time high. How could I pick someone to share a locker with for an entire school year if I didn’t know anyone?
It was the equivalent of a midlife crisis in the eyes of a fourth-grader.
“Stephen, who do you want to be your partner?” my teacher asked. It was the moment of truth.
“Devin,” I said. My brain was scrambling and the first name I thought of popped out of my mouth. Devin was one of the few kids I managed to talk to briefly before class. He seemed nice enough after an incredibly short first impression.
At the time it seemed like I was taking a huge leap of faith. Devin was nothing like me. He was biracial; I was not. He was pretty tall for our age and height had never been my strong suit. He was loud, obnoxious and incredibly charismatic while I, on the other hand, was very shy and reserved in my new environment. Even at a young age, he had the ability to grab the attention of the room nearly as soon as he walked in.
It took very little time for Devin and I to become close. When I threw out his name, I really was just banking on faith that he would be someone with whom I could get along.
I had a dream that one day I could have a successful relationship with my locker partner. I didn’t know that after nine years he still would be one of my best friends or that we would be considered family in each other’s homes.
It’s still hard to believe somebody I met on the first day of fourth grade has turned into such a long-lasting friendship. We often joke about how one little locker back in the suburban west side of Kalamazoo spawned a relationship which will last a lifetime.
It is a memory from my youth that sticks with me even today, reminding me of the time I met my best friend and all the good times we had. And reminding me of the gamble I took, committing to share a locker with someone I had known for all of 30 minutes. It doesn’t sound that important now, but at 10 years old, it seemed like the decision of a lifetime.
The story, for me, is why King marched for equality in this country. It embodies the core values and beliefs he stood for and the mission he hoped to achieve. Ironically, it all happened in a building bearing his name.
You never know what can be built from simply taking a leap of faith. Going outside of my comfort zone and meeting somebody different from myself at such a young age taught me an invaluable lesson about diversity.
And it’s still what I think of when I hear “MLK”.
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