Baylor Line Magazine | Fall 2020

Fall 2020

CAMPUS IN CHAOS CONF USIO

E G A R U O C

N

TURN YOUR “RADIO” ON Tune in for our podcast, featuring must-hear interviews with leading members of the Baylor Family.

Start listening today! baylorline.com/podcast

S ponsored C ontent

Voice of Alumni S i n c e 1 8 5 9

Vol. 84 | No. 2

8

Ope n i n g E ssa y :

Finding Courage In a Crisis Of Identity

32

S p ec i al :

One alumna’s journey to becoming deeply, undeniably grateful for the pleasure it is to be Black

The Full Picture Scenes from what daily life looks like on campus in our “new normal”

by Rae Jefferson (‘16)

Jonathon Platt Editor-in-chief, Baylor Line Magazine editor@baylorline.com

14

I n t e r v i e w:

Robert F. Darden Editor Emeritus, Baylor Line Magazine emeritus@baylorline.com

Michael Hyatt (‘77)

38

22

From the Grave Sings Old Man River

F e a t u re :

When Words Become Action While members of the Baylor Family look for reconciliation and atonement, change will only come when words become action

by Sophia Alejandro (‘21)

Allen Holt Executive Vice President allen@baylorlinefoundation.com

H i s t ory:

Haley Gandy Publication Designer cedargandy.com Kailey Davis Director of Marketing marketing@baylorline.com

Buried in Greenwood Cemetery, one of Waco’s most famous native sons is getting fresh life breathed into his iconic voice through the work of a Baylor professor

Kellie Juandiego Member Services kellie@baylorlinefoundation.com

by Robert F. Darden (‘76)

Janet Nors Chief Advancement Officer janet@baylorlinefoundation.com

46

Sophia Alejandro Baylor Line Magazine Intern

James McInnis Chief Financial Officer james@baylorlinefoundation.com

Rem em ber i n g:

Barbara “Babs” Baugh

F al l 2 0 2 0

Baylor Line Magazine

PO Box 2089, Waco, TX 76703

1

C o n tr i bu to r s

Sop h ia Alejan d ro (‘21) Sophia is a junior from San Antonio, and an editorial intern at Baylor Line Magazine. She is majoring in journalism, public relations, and new media. Her end goal is to become a lawyer.

In addition to her life as a Baylor student and Baylor Line Foundation intern, Sophia serves as a campus tour guide for Baylor Undergraduate Admissions.

R ae J e ff erson (’16) Rae is the communications director at Waco Family Health Center. Previously, she served as the director of marketing and communications for Creative Waco. Her work has appeared in numerous publications. She lives in Waco, Texas, and is back at Baylor, pursuing a Master’s in journalism.

BaylorLine.com

/BaylorLineFoundation

Robert F. Dar d en (’76) Robert is a professor of journalism, public relations, and new media at Baylor. He founded the Baylor Black Gospel Restoration Project and has also authored over two dozen books, including: Nothing But Love in God’s Water, Volumes I & II and People Get Ready! A New History of Black Gospel Music. Darden’s writing has appeared in publications from The New York Times to the Oxford American. He lives in Waco with his wife, Mary Landon Darden.

@BaylorLineFoundation

/in/BaylorLineFoundation

For advertising opportunities, email ads@baylorline.com Letters and comments can be sent to letters@baylorline.com

2

T h e Ba y lo r Line

YOU CAN HELP CONTINUE THE LEGACY The Baylor Line Foundation is doing more than ever in the Baylor family. We need to keep it up. Over the past year, your donations supported 54 students with over $100,000 in Legacy Scholarships,

continued

the storied 74-year history of Baylor Line Magazine, and supported one of our largest Hall of Fame awards banquets

to-date.

Your

continued support makes it possible for the Baylor Line Foundation to be your voice.

Donate now at baylorline.com/legacy

F al l 2 0 2 0

3

Ed i to r ’s N o te

Fellow Bears: I struggled for a long time to find my home in the Baylor Family.

Maybe you know how that feels, to be surrounded by people, busy and active, but not feeling like you belong.

One of my first classes at Baylor was an introduction to mass media with some old guy named Bob Darden. I spent hours working up the courage to walk into Professor Darden’s office, seeking his wisdom.

Luckily, I finally crossed the threshold and the joke now goes: I entered Bob’s office the second week of my freshman year and never left.

During those first few years at Baylor, Bob’s counsel was never more important than when he pushed me to join the Lariat as a reporter.

Almost immediately, I was hooked.

Sure, the work was thrilling, but it was the people who made my time at the Lariat worthwhile, and many of the friendships — true friendships — I made in that season are still some of my closest, dearest, and deepest relationships.

It’s good to finally find your home.

Unfortunately, not all of us are able to achieve that. Not every Bear leaves Baylor feeling accepted, respected, and valued. Many walk the stage never quite feeling like they found a home.

We’ve created this issue of Baylor Line Magazine with those in mind.

Because no one, especially not a fellow Bear, deserves to be without a home. And when there are people who feel like outsiders in our community, we must act. We must act swiftly and with conviction.

I pray you will, in your own way, read the stories in this issue and ponder how you may act swiftly and with conviction. Whether it is Rae Jefferson’s (‘16) essay on finding out what her Blackness means while at Baylor, the excellent piece by Sophia Alejandro (‘21) on Baylor’s work to reconcile and heal racial divisions, or the interview with Michael Hyatt (‘77) on the importance and power of a clear vision for the future, I hope something speaks to you from these pages.

It’s an honor to share this home in the Baylor Family with you.

May we always be continually blessed with more voices.

Yours, Jonathon Platt (‘16, MA ‘19)

4

T h e Ba y lo r Line

Do you know an impressive alumni,

an

unknown

piece

of Baylor history, or an idea you’d like investigated? Our best story ideas come from readers like you .

Send your pitches to hi@baylorline.com

F al l 2 0 2 0

5

Let t e r s & I de a s

In May, Robert F. Darden (‘76) wrote about the “secret” life of Abner McCall, the G-man. Many readers were surprised to learn about this period in the Judge’s life, while others had further insight into Special Agent McCall. Here is an excerpt from our favorite reply: On [an] assignment, Judge apparently took temporary quarters in or near the area where he worked for weeks at the time — remote from his family, no telephone, and mail delivery infrequent if at all. He said he had become very lonesome for his family, devoid of social life, and really miserable.

One day after a long period of such isolation, he looked out across the desert and saw (apparently a mile to two away) a cloud of dust, raised by a vehicle approaching the village. He knew that this was in all likelihood the mail delivery, and he became very excited to be receiving mail, certainly from his family. The dust cloud continued, and he followed it with great anticipation to the post office. When it arrived, the postman did in fact have a letter for him which he quickly tore open.

To his dismay, the letter was a personal letter from Dr. A. J. Armstrong asking if he would send $10 for the fund for the construction of the Armstrong Browning Library. Judge stated that he had never been more disappointed in his life, but that on consideration, years later, he realized Dr. Armstrong was probably the most persistent fundraiser the University had ever had.

Your article brought back fond memories to me — times when Judge McCall, Frank Wilson, Angus McSwain, and other law professors, sat with students at the Baylor Drug (early on) or in the “new” law school lounge, to drink coffee, socialize, talk, and discuss the law and their experiences in a most congenial and helpful way — part of a real education.

Thanks for the most pleasant read.

– John Minton (‘54, LLB ‘56)

We’re always so grateful to have your feedback on each issue. Here are a few thoughts from on the Spring 2020 magazine:

I recently received my new Baylor Line Magazine. Excellent!!

My compliments to the Editor for the new design and content. The articles were very interesting and the new layout/ design is perfect. The article about our beloved Abner McCall was wonderful.

– Marilyn Dennis Brand, (‘68)

This BU grad likes the look and feel of your newest edition.”

– Carey Jones, (‘70)

Editor-in-chief, Jonathon Platt (‘16, MA ‘19) responds: Wowza, did I learn a lot from producing the Spring issue. Carey, Marilyn, and many others were so kind to address the changes to the magazine’s design (and feel). As we continue to create content for you, the Baylor Family, I’m always looking forward to your feedback. Without letters, ideas, and insights from you, I don’t feel like we can be an accurate representation of our mission to be the voice of alumni since 1859.

Please, continue to send in your thoughts to letters@baylorline.com. We cannot do this without you.

6

T h e Ba y lo r Line

B eh in d t he Cover

Over the summer, we offered several thousand Bears a trip. It wasn’t a normal vacation, though. Instead, it was a trip back in time. Thanks to the rich and deep archives of Baylor Line Magazine, followers of our social media accounts received regular blasts from the past. We called the campaign #MagazineTimeMachine. Below are some of our favorite reactions: In response to the May-June 1957 cover “Baylor Makes Music”: “I started attending recitals to get credit in Music Appreciation, kept going for the enjoyment. Three years of Chapel Choir was a blast, too.”

– @quash8 In response to the February 1980 cover and article about Baylor’s live mascots attending the Peach Bowl: “So glad the bears get to stay at home nowadays where it is quiet and familiar.

A football game is not a good atmosphere for a real bear. Some new traditions are even better than the old ones.”

– @alittleextra70 In response to the May-June 1965 cover of President Lyndon B. Johnson delivering Baylor’s commencement address: “I remember this. I was headed to Baylor in the fall and watched the commencement on TV.” – @brendaabrooks In response to the July-August 1955 cover of the Floyd Casey Stadium; the November 1979 cover of students waiting in lines for dining halls, class registration, and football and Sing tickets; and the September 1979 cover of Walter Abercrombie’s reaction to leading the Baylor Bears to victory against Texas A&M: “#stadiumreentry” – @patrickbpeltier In response to the February-June 1975 covers of watercolor paintings of Tidwell Bible Building, Armstrong Browning Library, and Memorial Hall by artist Betty Zaggle, and asking which one they would frame: “Memorial. I lived there in 1987-88, the year there was a kitchen fire. And I should add, my daughter moves into Memorial on August 20 to start her Freshman year!”

– @cpamomof2 In response to the November 1978 cover showing students waiting in long lines for the dining halls, class registration, and football and Sing tickets: “Familiar sight. Stood in the rain from Hurricane Carla in 61 to register for classes. Luckily it wasn’t a horrible downpour.”

– @susansniderprice

F al l 2 0 2 0

This has been a tough one for all of us. How do you sum up 2020 in 52 pages? What’s more: How do you sum it up in a single cover? We played with a lot of options, but reached this version because of how it made us feel. (If you read my letter in the Spring 2020 issue, you know that word is really important to me.) Initially, when you saw this cover, you might have felt uncomfortable. The TV static reminds so many of that awful sssccchhhhh noise. Reading the “Chaos” and “Confusion,” you might have moved from uncomfortability to anger or grief. Anger at the chaos this year has fraught. Grief over the deaths, disasters, and sense of despair. Ultimately, though, I hope you reach — as I do in seeing this cover — a sense of pride, confidence, and hope when you saw that final word: Courage. The Baylor Family is fighting back against the many tragedies of 2020. I’m so proud to join you in this effort.

–Jonathon Platt, editor-in-chief

7

T h e F ro n t L i n e

8

T h e Ba y lo r Line

O p ening Essay

Finding Courage In a Crisis Of Identity On e alu m n a’s jou rn e y t o be c om in g d e e p ly, u n d e n iably grat e fu l for t h e p le as u re it is t o be B lac k

by Rae Jefferson (‘16)

F al l 2 0 2 0

9

B

aylor University is where I learned to be Black. In 2012, I found myself in the six percent of Black students in a sea of more than 15,000. Having avoided a reckoning with my own skin prior to setting foot on campus as a freshman, I was almost immediately blindsided by my own identity.

Blackness is not a monolith. Although there were 900 Black students at the university my freshman year, there were many manifestations of Blackness within that number. Black American students who carried the legacy of slavery. African American students attending college with the support of their immigrant parents. Afro-Latinx students whose identities had so often been left out of societal explorations of Blackness.

International students who’d traveled from other countries and brought their own Black legacies. Bi-racial students, like myself, who were struggling to reconcile other cultural identities with the Black experience.

I grew up in Houston, one of the most diverse cities in the U.S. Despite this fact, my childhood was one in which I perpetually ran from my skin.

I’d been in all kinds of spaces, including predominantly white ones, for most of my life. In fact, the student population at Baylor wasn’t much different from the small high school I’d just left. There, I’d made friends with ease, and while I experienced moments of otherness as one of a few Black students at the school, these were usually perpetuated by teachers, not classmates.

But it wasn’t until college that I realized something: I fit in because I made myself fit in. Short of shedding my skin, I put off everything that might place me outside the gates of whiteness. I listened almost exclusively to rock. I shopped at Hot Topic. I used words like “rad.”

Behaviors like these became my norm because I subconsciously knew my place in the social hierarchy of a white, conservative Christian high school was fragile. College quickly proved to be much of the same.

The racism at Baylor is usually subtle.

It’s receiving fewer offers to join the university’s most popular sororities than your white friends. It’s being told by an academic advisor to switch your major, with the implication it’s because you’re a Black woman and therefore not cut out for medical school. It’s seeing Black and brown Wacoans portrayed as destitute, desperate people who Baylor students can rescue through poverty simulations and prayer. It’s going to a local park and hearing your white friend hope out loud that the nearby Black children have a father because a man hadn’t accompanied their mother on the outing. It’s sitting through a class discussion about affirmative action in which it’s suggested students of color aren’t smart enough to get into the university on merit alone (never mind the fact affirmative action has historically benefitted white women).

“

I grew up in Houston, one of the most diverse cities in the U.S. Despite this fact, my childhood was one in which I perpetually ran from my skin. ”

Although my Baylor experience was overwhelmingly positive, it was at times isolating and painful.

I was always aware that the white mainstream rarely intended to make space for me. Early on, I had to make a decision between finally embodying the totality of who I am or subduing my existence for social acceptance.

I chose to be Black. Baylor was the first place I made an all-Black group of friends. I learned how to verbalize the otherness I’d always felt because I finally had friends who’d felt it, too. I became aware of women, in real life and online, who embodied the strength and dignity of people sharing my race and gender. I started listening to rap and hip hop (and it was leagues better than the music I’d been listening to). Perhaps most importantly, I finally learned how to do my hair, a task that had long perplexed me and my Mexican mother as my hair texture changed with age.

Baylor is where I learned to advocate for myself and people like me. Part of this learning came from exploration of my own identity as a bi-racial woman who looks like a fully Black person.

But an even bigger part was due to steadily increasing public outrage about police brutality against Black Americans.

10

T h e Ba y lo r Line

T

he class of 2016 witnessed the high-profile deaths of Eric Garner, Michael Brown, Freddie Grey, Alton Sterling, and Philando Castile.

While these murders are tragic on their own, there’s a secondary tragedy that happens with each of these: individuals who look and live like the deceased experience a secondhand terror of remembering that they, too, could meet a similar fate under any number of circumstances.

Attending Baylor was always difficult, but especially so from 2014 until my graduation in 2016, the times during which these murders took place. There was more than enough callousness to go around, and not much effort put into trying to understand the cultural mechanisms that cause certain kinds of people to be disproportionately killed by police.

But within this oppression, Black Baylor shined. We gathered for campus protests and die-ins to tell our community we wouldn’t be quiet on matters of life and death. We spoke at chapel about our experiences with racism at Baylor, even though we knew it’d incur vitriol. We wrote petitions to campus leadership demanding greater representation for students of color on campus.

Despite our grief, we rejoiced in the collective pride of being Black in a society often leaves us feeling broken.

F al l 2 0 2 0

Throughout my cultural revolution, I still had predominantly white friend groups through church. I was a regular part of encounters debating the relationship between systemic racism and Christian duty.

All of this was punctuated by a defining church experience that triggered my four-year hiatus from institutional Christianity. I sat through a sermon where a white pastor told me, a Black woman, that my racial identity and my spiritual identity were not compatible.

Although I’d already decided I was done with my church by the sermon’s end, finding out that the pastor apologized to a group of Black people in private and not from the same Sunday-morning pulpit from which he’d given the message only sealed the deal.

Although this church was not directly affiliated with Baylor, various students and staff attended, and several of them held the same views as the pastor. Additionally, I found out a number of Black Baylor students attending other churches had equally and exceedingly horrifying experiences within their own predominantly white churches.

Although I grieved the loss of my church home for quite a while, I cannot overstate the importance of my leaving. I still love Jesus because I left. Now, I’m blessed to be part of a beautiful church family called Mosaic Waco that was humbly built with multicultural values at its core. Not a Sunday goes by that our white pastor doesn’t champion the compatibility of racial identities and faith identities. What a rare and beautiful thing to see the church as Jesus intended.

11

F

inally, Baylor is where I learned to rejoice in my skin.

There’s a temptation to reduce Blackness down to a legacy of suffering.

Although that’s an undeniable part of our heritage, it’s far from the full story.

I spent many Friday and Saturday evenings at Black social events where skin was the last thing on anyone’s mind. Good music, good food, and good company meant we were free to put off the drudgery of moving through spaces in which we didn’t quite fit, if only for a few hours. Black fraternities and sororities punctuate each school year with unmissable events like Battle on the Burning Sands, an annual step show organized by the Baylor Alphas that brought together Black students from universities across the state. Various Black academic and social organizations dedicate dozens of hours each semester to improving the academic and social experience of students of color, promoting cultural pride and organizing community service efforts in Waco.

Even in non-Black circles, I made room for my identity. I found precious, empathetic friends and mentors who made all the pain of life at a historically white institution worthwhile. I found a home within Baylor’s journalism department, where I connected with some of the most accepting faculty, staff and students on campus. There I met other weird journalism kids who spent their free time learning and debating about racial justice and the impact of our nation’s complicated (and often harmful) racial past and present. I learned how to articulate my race-based grief and found white allies who embraced my Blackness.

All the joy I’d developed during my time at Baylor peaked at the Kente Ceremony during my last year of school. This annual ceremony takes place a month before graduation and celebrates the academic achievements of upcoming graduates, especially Black students. Participants receive a Kente cloth, a sash worn with graduation regalia featuring vibrant green, yellow, and red threads stitched in patterns that celebrate the academic success of the wearer and allude to the ancient Ghanaian practice from which the cloths originate.

In spring 2016, I found myself sitting in a small chapel in alphabetical order with dozens of other students. As we waited for the Kente Ceremony to begin, I was amazed to see how many Black people I knew in the pews around me. Sure, my closest friends were there, but I also recognized others who had maintained various levels of visibility during my college experience. They were leaders who’d hosted the events I loved to be part of, brilliant students who’d made notable academic achievements, activists who stood fearlessly when all we wanted to do was give up.

These were the very people who taught me to love myself, and I doubted most of them knew.

The program announcer began to call names, and I clapped for every person who walked across the stage to receive their cloth, whether I knew them or not. We all did. It was a celebration of the common joy and grief we’d endured at our university until that moment, and an audible affirmation that it was a job well done.

As my turn came, I grew nervous. I don’t enjoy being the center of attention, and this was the epitome of it. The announcer called the name ahead of mine, and I pleaded with my anxieties. Finally, she said it: “Rae Jefferson.” I shuffled forward and awkwardly let the staff member place the cloth around my shoulders. The chapel filled with cheers and I looked into the crowd. Many of those people I barely knew were clapping and smiling for me, and I knew they felt the same things I did.

In that moment, I was suddenly, deeply, undeniably grateful for the pleasure it is to be Black.

Rae Jefferson (‘16) is the director of communications for Waco Family Health Center.

12

T h e Ba y lo r Line

DISCOVER THE COMPELLING STORIES OF THE BAYLOR FAMILY Baylor Line Magazine has been committed to informing, inspiring, and empowering alumni since 1946.

When you subscribe to Baylor Magazine, you’re continuing legacy of the independent diverse voices that make up Baylor Family.

Line the and the

Subscribe today! baylorline.com/subscribe

F al l 2 0 2 0

13

In t er v i e w

Michael Hyatt (’77)

The best-selling author, entrepeneur, and former CEO of Thomas Nelson talks about what’s been driving his success all these years

by Jonathon Platt (‘16, MA ‘19)

14

T h e Ba y lo r Line

There is a story of Michael Phelps in which a sports journalist was asking him why he just seemed to be staring off in space before this race.

The reporter asked, "Are you rehearsing how you are going to finish?"

Phelps said, "No. I'm rehearsing every single stroke."

High performers know the importance of this “staring off in space” practice.

They know it’s this obsession to develop a crystal clear vision of what could be that keeps them going and growing.

Before COVID shook our world to the core, I had the opportunity to talk with Baylor alum and maybe the world’s expert on developing and pursuing that kind of crystal clear vision. Michael Hyatt (’77) started his career at Word Publishing in Waco. He continuted his publishing career at Thomas Nelson, culminating is his 2004-2011 tenure as CEO. In 2012, he founded Michael Hyatt & Co., a leadership development company helping successful, but overwhelmed leaders get the focus they need to win at work and succeed at life. Michael Hyatt & Co. has been featured in the Inc. 5000 list of fastestgrowing companies for three years in a row and was named one of Inc’s 2020 “Best Places to Work.”

Now, in a world so desperate for certainty, clarity, and candor, Michael’s experience and advice speak more importantly than ever. Because the world needs vision-driven leaders more than ever.

F al l 2 0 2 0

15

This interview has been edited and shortened for clarity.

For the full version, visit baylorline.com/michaelhyatt

Jonathon Platt: I had a lot of fun trying to find stories of you on campus and find stories of you back at Word Publishing. It was really cool to chat with some folks and go back in time to when you were just another student on campus.

Michael Hyatt: Well, you know, I started at Word when I was a student and there were so many Baylor students and people that were working at Word. Of course, Jarrell McCracken (the founder of Word Publishing), that's where he started. Too bad he's still not around because he was a legend.

JP: Well, I want to talk about Word. But I want to start back at the beginning. The cliché question of when you were a small town boy in Nebraska, why did you decide to choose Baylor?

MH: Well, first of all, my family moved to Waco when I was in the ninth grade from Nebraska. So I went to Waco that last year of junior high or middle school — I think we called it junior high back then, and then high school, Richfield High, which no longer exists. I think it became part of Waco High. So I just felt like it was local. I had heard great things about it.

I intended to be a music major, and it had a huge reputation for that. Plus to be honest, I became a Christian when I was 18 and so some of the people that I was involved with were people who were from Baylor. I just was more drawn by the people than anything.

JP: What did you hope to get out of Baylor when you first decided to come here? I know you said that you'd just become a Christian and the people were a really big part of it, but you wanted to be a music major. Did you have higher goals other than just being a music major and getting into the music industry?

MH: Yeah, I actually switched to philosophy with the intention of going to seminary. So I wanted to go to Southwestern Seminary and I intended to go into the ministry. In fact, while I was at Baylor, I had a part-time gig, a weekend gig, at Hilltop Lakes Church in College-Station. Just outside of College-Station. It was a retirement community. So Gail and I would drive down there. I think it was about 80 miles. We'd drive down there on a Saturday afternoon and come back on a Sunday night. It was crazy, man. I mean, I was so busy. Then I had a part-time job during the week at Word. I just fell in love with the publishing business and I thought, "This is my home. This is what I want to do." So I started in sales at Word and then went into marketing and then editorial.

JP: Who were some other influences during your time as a student at Baylor?

Do you remember any cool professors you had?

MH: Yeah. I'm trying to think of his name in the philosophy department. I don't think he's there any longer. It's Dr. Baird. Dr. Kilgore was the chairman. He was a trip. Quick story about him. So I took a course in ancient Greek philosophy. So I walk into the class. This guy is just a little bit, I don't know, aloof. So he pulls open this text of Plato and he says, "I would prefer that you read this in Greek. But if you must, you can read it in English." We're all looking at each other like, "Is he serious?" Another professor that was a big influence on me, and I had six courses with him, was Dr. Richard Cutter, who was a Greek professor.

16

T h e Ba y lo r Line

“ When you’re creating your vision, what you're trying to define is a bigger, better future. ” JP: Yeah, he wrote the textbook.

MH: He did. Yeah. Still got a copy somewhere.

JP: He's no longer teaching and they no longer use that textbook, but my first day of Greek, I went up to the professor afterwards and I said, "How come you don't use Dr. Cutter's book anymore?"

The professor said, "Well, he's no longer here to tell us to use it."

MH: He was such a character, man. It's funny because this is bringing back so many memories, but one of the things he would always say to us was, "Better to remain quiet and be thought wise than to open your mouth and remove all doubt."

JP: You attended Baylor during what many call the “golden age” of Baylor. Where was the vision for this exciting and energizing era coming from?

MH: Certainly I would have absorbed it as a student by osmosis. I think it was because all the collective inputs. It was everything from my chapel experience to, at that time, the Baptist Student Union, to my on-campus experience with the Navigators, to the other students that I was enrolled with. Yeah. I don't know that there was anything specific except that I do remember feeling optimistic about the future and glad to be a part of that community and privileged, certainly, to be a part of that community.

JP: Staying on this topic of vision, your latest book, The Vision Driven Leader — did it come about because this is where you spend most of your time now as CEO of Michael Hyatt & Co.?

MH: Yeah, I think where I spend my time has shifted in the last three years in a major way.

So much of my time before was just behind the

F al l 2 0 2 0

curtain writing or podcasting and sending stuff out. But I didn't have a lot of direct interactions with customers or clients because I had pretty much withdrawn from public speaking because I didn't really like to travel.

So when I first left Thomas Nelson in 2011, for the first two, two and a half years, I was speaking 60 times a year because I thought that was what I wanted to do. But then I discovered traveling is exhausting. I didn't like being away from my family. I now have nine grandkids. I don't remember how many I had at that time.

Five daughters. All of them live in this general area of where I live in Nashville. So I didn't like being away. So I wasn't really having that direct interaction. Well, then we started doing our own conferences. So we did a conference for a number of years called Best Year Ever.

Then we did the Free to Focus conference.

But where this content really came to fruition was in my coaching practice, which started about three years ago. So we have a program called BusinessAccelerator and you can get more information at businessaccelerator.com.

But we have about 500 now, 500 business owners or entrepreneurs who meet with me on a quarterly basis in Nashville. For each of these clients, we track specific metrics every year. Currently, in the first 12 months of the program, our average client grows their business by 62 percent. But they shave 11 hours off their average work week. So it was in the interaction with these clients and me teaching what I learned as the CEO at Thomas Nelson and my whole career there at Thomas Nelson, which I was there I think collectively a total of 17 years, and then what I learned in building a platform and starting this business from 2011.

One of the things that I always came back to was it's got to start with vision.

I kind of stumbled into it when I was the general manager of Nelson Books. Then, of course, when I started this business, I said, "I have got to get clear on what it is I'm trying to build," and even though that's morphed and changed a lot over the last several years, I started at least with a destination in mind. So the book came out of that work with clients who really struggled, but we saw a huge, massive growth in their businesses and them getting control of their lifestyle by getting clear on what they wanted.

17

“ If you don't have the vision and the alignment, then execution becomes people overwhelmed, doing a whole lot of work, a lot of sideways energy, a lot of fake work “ JP: Can you talk about a time when you really wished that you could have sent yourself this book that you just wrote?

MH: Honestly, any time I took a new job. Whether it was when I became the marketing director at that department at Word, whether it was when I moved into the editorial department and there was no clear vision there. We were just very opportunistically driven.

I think that what happens to a lot of leaders as they begin to become successful is that opportunities accelerate and multiply. Without a vision, unfortunately, a lot of things show up that are really distractions masquerading as opportunities. But if you don't have a vision, if you're not clear about the destination, then you have no filter by which to differentiate the opportunities from the distractions and you end up saying yes to everything. I think for every business that fails, somewhere baked into that is a lack of clarity about vision.

I think the other thing that vision does that would have helped me in a number of these different situations is attracting the right people and repelling the wrong ones.

18

T h e Ba y lo r Line

JP: A lot of people that graduated with me that are now in upper level, but still young professionals, they've got people to sell up to. What's your advice for selling the vision up whenever you have people on both sides of you — up the ladder and down?

MH: Yeah, I think the first thing you’ve got to remember is that the most popular radio station on earth is WIIFM. “What's in it for me?” You can sell anything to your boss. I don't care if you need additional resources, if you want to create or modify the position that you have, if you want a raise, whatever it is. You can sell anything as long as you help them get what they want. How is what you're trying to sell going to get them what they want? If you can do that, you can sell the vision. So when it comes to the vision, I think you’ve got to ask yourself, "How is my vision for this department, how is this vision for whatever department you're running, how is that going to make the whole enterprise help get your boss what you want?" You’ve got to know what your boss wants. Right? So some bosses want esteem with their boss. Some bosses want public acclaim. Some bosses just want more money and more profit. Whatever it is, you’ve got to figure that out. If you can sell this as helping them get what they want, it's an easy yes.

“ Without a vision, unfortunately, a lot of things show up that are really distractions masquerading as opportunities. ”

JP: You guys have some huge goals at Michael Hyatt & Co. Some big, big initiatives. How are you all preparing now? I mean, as this book on vision goes out, how are you all preparing to make this vision happen?

What are those steps you're taking? What does the day by day vision look like?

MH: Man. Yeah, so the strategic planning process for us, which we do every year, begins with looking at the vision and fine-tuning it. Then we try to distill that vision down after we do a SWOT analysis, we distill that down into our strategic priorities over the next three years. So it's a lot easier after you've done this the first time because now we're just fine-tuning. Then we have to distill that down to a set of annual goals for this next year. In other words, to accomplish this vision, and our vision is a three to five year vision, then what do we have to do this year to get there? Then we break that down by the quarterly goals and then we break that down further in which each team member does and into weekly priorities and daily actions. So that linkage between vision and daily actions is what drives execution. There's three essential things that have to happen in a corporation for you to be able to execute at a high level and scale exponentially. You’ve got to have vision. You’ve got to have alignment around the vision so that you can eliminate sideways energy and really focus and concentrate all your resources on this clear objective. Then once you have vision and alignment, you can drive execution. If you don't have that, if you don't have the vision and the alignment, then execution becomes people overwhelmed, doing a whole lot of work, a lot of sideways energy, a lot of fake work, people really busy. But it just seems like you're treading water. You're not really moving forward.

F al l 2 0 2 0

19

Back in a normal world before COVID-19, we held the Baylor Line Foundation’s annual Hall of Fame Awards Banquet in February. I knew I’d soon be interviewing Michael for this piece and so, as I made the rounds meeting some of the most astonishing members of the Baylor Family, I asked several if they had ever crossed paths with him. About a dozen said yes.

“What do you think defines him?” I’d ask.

It amazed me when, in their answers, every one of them used the word: Ambitious. “The most ambitious person I’ve met.” “He’s always been so ambitious.” “There are few people who have more ambition than Michael.”

I brought this up to him. Across his face he seemed to grin and wince at the same time. In my final question, I asked Michael what that meant to him and how being so driven by (and defined by) ambition met his obsession with vision.

MH: “I would say that what drives my ambition is that vision. So in other words, when I get clarity about a future that I want to create, I don't care if it's in my marriage or my relationship with my kids or my physical health or my business, I just... It accelerates progress toward that and it just has a tractor pull, like a magnetic pull toward that.

I never really thought about it like that since you brought it up. I'm not sure that, by the way, ambition is always a good thing either. One of the things that I've had to learn over the years was to temper that and not be at the mercy of my ambition, but let my ambition serve me. I mean, I could go into lots of stories there, but yeah...

I think if you were thinking of a grand theory, a unifying theory of me, I think the vision is the thing.”

by Jonathon Platt (‘16, MA ‘19)

20

T h e Ba y lo r Line

THIS ISN'T THE FIRST GLOBAL PANDEMIC. In this free eBook, find out what life was like in Waco during the great Spanish Flu of 1918, how the flu got to Waco, and how it impacted the town and Baylor! Read letters directly from copies of the Lariat printed 102 years ago.

Get your copy today! baylorline.com/1918

F al l 2 0 2 0

21

Fe a tu re

When Words Become Actions While members of the Baylor Family look for reconciliation and atonement, change will only come when words become action

by Sophia Alejandro (‘21)

22

T h e Ba y lo r Line

F al l 2 0 2 0

23

I will always remember the white man with white hair and white yogurt, who thought I, a brown girl, would shoot him.

While walking through Old Main and heading for the stairs, a professor stepped in front of me. He was unaware that I was behind him and walked slowly, spooning yogurt into his mouth. When we got to the stairs, he stopped, scraped the edges of the yogurt cup, and pushed the last bit into his mouth. Then, he spun 180 degrees to throw his trash away.

This is when he finally saw me.

“Woah. I am sorry. I didn’t see you there,” he said.

“No worries. I am in no hurry,” I responded.

“Oh thank God,” he chuckled, “at least you didn’t shoot me.”

“Shoot you?” I asked.

“Well yeah, you know how y’all are.” He responded.

“Y’all? You mean Mexicans?” I asked.

He turned red as he attempted to retract his racial slur.

He was unsuccessful. Later, I attempted to learn his name.

I, too, was unsuccessful.

24

T h e Ba y lo r Line

As images of protests and phrases like Black Lives Matter flash across our screens, we watch racism in America reach a breaking point. This leaves us wondering how we can make it better. Maybe it even leaves some of us wondering: will it get better?

While stories of racism at Baylor can be seen as isolated incidents by some, when added with the stories of other minorities, it creates a mosaic.

Baylor has been a leader throughout its history.

However, an area the university has not led is with race relations on campus. Robert F. Darden, a professor of journalism, public relations, and new media, has watched this history unfold during his time at Baylor as a professor and a student.

“Baylor was the first co-ed college west of the Mississippi. It actually should have been a leader from that point on, but being in the deep south, there were decades where African Americans were not welcome to walk even on the [edge] of campus.

If you listen to the stories in oral history from African Americans in Waco, right up through the early ‘60s, it was considered a ‘no-go’ zone. There were Baylor faculty and administrators that were in the Ku Klux Klan in the 1920s and ‘30s. There were African Americans on campus, but they did the maintenance work,” Darden said.

It was not until 1966 that Baylor hired its first Black professor on campus, Dr. Vivienne Malone-Mayes.

“I grew up in the air force which was integrated with its founding…all of a sudden I show up in this lily white environment where there are few Black athletes, a few Black students, no Black administrators, and one Black teacher,” Darden said. “Very quickly, I knew who [Dr. MaloneMayes] was. I never had a class with her, but very early that fall I remember walking across campus and seeing her. She was tall and beautifully dressed in the heat of summer. Nobody got off the sidewalk when she came by, nobody made a fuss…and I was struck by how alone she seemed. There was like a bubble around her that just broke my heart. To see this proud, beautiful woman walking, knowing there were probably days where nobody talked to her. Although, she always said her colleagues in the math department were gracious and accepting. To be the first of anything has to be hard. To be the first Black woman at a southern college, there is no way you can make that person feel as welcome as they deserve to feel.”

Even though Baylor broke the color line over a half century ago, a growing community of Baylor students and alumni are expressing concern over the lack of diversity of color among faculty.

“ We’re not where we were, praise the Lord, but won’t be content because we lose people every year. We want to make it as friendly and welcoming as possible. ”

F al l 2 0 2 0

25

Dominque Hill, Director of Wellness and a member of Baylor’s Commission on Historic Campus Representation, has worked at Baylor for 13 years now. During this time he has become an activist on campus, working for and with both students and faculty.

“I have been very intentional about helping to create a positive and supportive environment for faculty and staff of color, more specifically Black faculty and staff,” Hill said.

“I have been very intentional in creating a space for them to feel like they have a community of people they can engage with while they are here, because sometimes they can go a whole day [without] seeing another professional person of color.

When I first arrived at Baylor, I was the only Black male in the entire Division of Student Life . . . for the first two years. So, I knew how that felt for me. I felt like there was a lot of pressure. I was intentional about trying to create opportunities for people [of color] to feel welcome so they can stay here. When you are the only person in a dual community — Black and male — how people engage you can be challenging.

Some people had never worked with a Black male before. So some people didn’t know how to talk to Black men. I had to quickly explain to people that I am not the voice of all Black people. I was so grateful when we started hiring more Black men.”

Hill said he decided the people being hired needed to feel a sense of community. His response? Quarterly lunches for new minority hires on campus. This process eventually led to the Black Faculty and Staff

Association. This support system aims to help faculty and staff of color feel connected, respected, and, ultimately, at home at Baylor. As Hill works toward earning his Ph.D., he has been researching reasons why Baylor does not have more faculty of color.

“ I think God has chosen me and many other faculty and staff of color at Baylor to help them create a more just and equitable learning environment. ” “We hired a lot of people in 2017, [but] many of those people are gone now,” Hill said. “The retention piece is huge. People don’t stay because they don’t feel supported in their areas a lot of times. Sometimes they leave because they don’t feel valued. People have left because they felt like Baylor did not support them culturally, so I have been trying to help Baylor understand those things when I hear them. We’re not where we were, praise the Lord, but won’t be content because we lose people every year. We want to make it as friendly and welcoming as possible.”

While retention is one thing the university needs to fix, another problem arises from the hiring process. Darden has noticed this problem as a routine member of journalism, public relations, and new media hiring committees.

“Baylor has a policy on hiring committees. You [can] only bring two people to campus to interview, but if one of the candidates is a minority, you can bring a third. We would get back and committees would meet and we would ask them for their first set of paperwork, then every single case, they would be hired by top tier schools before we ever got them to campus,” Darden said. “And the journalism department meets very quickly, compared to some. There were a number of people who didn’t get hired and didn’t come to Baylor because the hiring committees were still meeting in March. It wasn’t really until the arrival of Dr. Livingstone and Provost Brickhouse that I began to feel like Baylor made serious, aggressive moves to increase diversity.”

Whitney Jones, associate director for orientation in New Student Programs, works very closely with student leaders and new students. Jones explained the need for better retention rates among faculty and staff.

“I do believe that God put me at Baylor. He put me at Baylor to be an advocate and a voice for people who may be voiceless, to support our students,” she said.

“If all the faculty and staff of color left Baylor, that would leave our students of color with no one to help them get through difficult times. I think God has chosen me and many other faculty and staff of color at Baylor to help them create a more just and equitable learning environment.”

26

T h e Ba y lo r Line

Baylor is working to change this decades-old story of lacking diversity.

As administrations is initiating change, Baylor, once again, looks to become a leader. Members of the faculty, staff, student body, and administration are exhibiting humility in recognizing the past and trying to correct its role in the present. In beginning this process the university released a statement, part of which read: “We acknowledge some early Baptist leaders owned enslaved persons, held racial views common in that era, supported Confederate causes and engaged in the fight to preserve slavery — including Baylor’s three founders, most of the University's initial trustees, and other early BU leaders. We denounce racism in all its forms as being inconsistent with Baylor’s Christian mission and the teachings of Jesus Christ, and remain committed to instituting tangible and systemic changes to ensure fair and equitable policies and practices. We recognize the need to strengthen our commitment to a vibrant, diverse campus community.

We will intentionally listen to those affected by racism, take steps to increase racial and ethnic diversity of our students, faculty, staff and administration, and recognize the significant contributions of the Black community throughout Baylor’s history.”

Recognition of contributions from people of color is an important narrative to tell. Not only will it show that Baylor has some semblance of a diverse past, but that we honor it today.

At this time, Baylor has two statues of a Black person on campus: the statue of Robert Griffin III by McLane Stadium and a bust of Dr. Malone-Mayes outside the mathematics department in the Sid Richardson Building. Any statue of a person of color is a victory, however, we have many new options in the field of academia to consider.

One way this could change for the future is through Baylor’s attempts to acknowledge our past and grow from it. Further explanation on Baylor’s path outline the initial steps the university will take.

“One of the first steps is to establish a Commission on Historic Campus Representations at Baylor University, an advisory committee that will review the history of statues, monuments, buildings and other aspects of campus in reference to their physical location, placement and naming. By the end of the Fall 2020 semester, the Commission will provide its observations for consideration by the administration and Board,” the university’s statement also read.

Looking to Baylor’s history is a starting point. Some have suggested changing the names of buildings and removing or adding statues to create a more inclusive atmosphere on campus. Dr. Robert Elder, an assistant professor of history, said he understood the desire that some have to make changes across the university’s landscape.

F al l 2 0 2 0

27

“Compared to other places I have taught, Baylor is a much more visibly diverse place, in the sense of people walking around campus,” he said. “That is great. I know there is always room to do more about that, but Baylor’s percentage of students who come from minority backgrounds is really pretty high for a school of its size and where it sits in the national higher education scene. The other part of it is, I also completely understand the observation that minority students make. Baylor is still a very white, non-minority space in how it operates culturally. There are a lot of minority students on campus, but also the way Baylor operates and the way it presents itself culturally, seem to be tailored toward the majority population on campus which is also the majority population of faculty and administrators.”

The challenge of looking into Baylor’s past is a major step in creating a culturally responsive environment. This, however, must expand beyond the physical realm of campus. As the United States once again navigates a national conversation of racial reform, Baylor is also feeling this movement from students.

“ Minorities are being heard by Baylor faculty, staff, and administration. We are being heard and promised change. “

One forum in which Baylor students are sharing their stories is through social media. @DearBaylor, an Instagram account, recounts anonymous stories from minority students struggling with acceptance at Baylor. Some tell of educating friends, some about microaggressions, and some about inappropriate incidents with faculty. Baylor was not the sole or first community to have a social media profile created to document the person of color experience, it is only one piece of a national movement. The campaign began with @DearPWI, or Predominantly White Institutions. This forum resulted in many replica community accounts and examples of innovative storytelling in the modern age. “@DearBaylor is an online forum that invites people of color to share their experiences from their time at Baylor University. We do not work for Baylor University, we do not officially represent the university, but we are a part of the student body. College can be a particularly intimidating place for people of color, as it has historically acted as a barrier for minorities in America. To this day, feeling unheard, unseen, or unwanted are experiences that Black, Indigenous, and other students, staff, and faculty members of color often share at predominantly white institutions, ” the group’s leadership said.

Some think this method of digital, direct action is working. Minorities are being heard

by Baylor faculty, staff, and administration.

Students of color are being heard and promised change.

“Hearing people’s stories is really going to make a difference. @DearBaylor is hard and hurtful. I want people to enjoy their moments and make a great transition, that is not everybody’s reality. I have had to sit and [ask], where did we go wrong and how can we do better? It hurts because I want everybody to do well. Because that didn’t happen then I need to do better,” Jones said.

28

T h e Ba y lo r Line

On August 12, 2020, President Linda Livingstone commented on the @DearBaylor page.

“I have read every single one of the heartbreaking stories posted on @DearBaylor, reflecting incidents of racism at Baylor that date back many years. These stories cut against the core of who we ought to be as Christians and the caring community for which Baylor strives to be. As Christians, we are called to love and respect. Recognizing one another as created in the image of God requires treating each other with great dignity, and @DearBaylor gives us sobering examples of our family being denied dignity. As a University, we have pledged to tackle these difficult conversations regarding race and social justice backed by actionable steps, beginning with the immediate actions shared earlier in June. In addition to @DearBaylor, we have heard from the Baylor Chapter of the NAACP, Black Student Coalition, LatinX Coalition and Coalition of Asian Students.

We plan to communicate further with the campus community next Wednesday, August 19, prior to the start of the semester. We appreciate the many contributions of our students, faculty, staff, and alumni of color. You are an important part of the Baylor family,” she said.

The strength of students talking and taking action followed by those in power listening creates a dialogue and relationship that has been missing for past students. Administrators working to promote this change is only a start, though.

“As racial issues at Baylor become more apparent, many people have messaged us with suggestions for next steps and plans of action. We are happy to see that so many people are ready to take action. But we hope it is clear that this platform alone cannot produce all necessary change. Change requires a community of leaders to create and run many different initiatives. You have already taken a step in favor of change by reading and learning about POC experiences at Baylor. But it is the responsibility of each individual to take the next step. We are excited to see each of you take the next step,” @DearBaylor reported.

President Livingstone has announced that she will be keeping a dialogue going. This process may take time, as is the nature of cultural responsiveness, but there is hope in her pledge.

F al l 2 0 2 0

29

"As president, I am firmly committed to ongoing open conversations and the hard work ahead of confronting systemic racism, injustice and inequality at our University, historic and cultural representations on our campus and the deeply painful experiences of racism shared by current and former students, faculty and staff,” Livingstone said.

While members of the Baylor Family look for reconciliation and atonement, change will only come when words become action, though. We must remember what it truly means to be the hands and feet of Our Lord.

Jones explained what she thinks are the first steps to change.

“I think Baylor needs to improve with education and cultural awareness. I think that is where Baylor has to start. You do that by being intentional with education and learning. I mean truly immersing yourself in environments. Number two, I think we need to be honest. Let’s just call it what it is. . . . In order to get beyond [past pains], we have to address the hard things. Number three, listening.

We need to be able to sit in a difficult place and hear people’s stories and what has been their reality, ” Jones said.

Mya Ellington-Williams, Little Rock, AK senior, is a student member of the Commission on Historic Campus Representation. She explained what she would like to see from Baylor.

“We find pride in our Baylor experiences and traditions, but we have to recognize and realize that even though it should be the same for all students, it isn’t. That is what we are fighting for and working on. Making sure that when people are excited to come to Baylor, whether they are Black, White, Hispanic or Asian, they have access to this Baylor experience,” she said.

“ As president, I am firmly committed to ongoing open conversations and the hard work ahead of confronting systemic racism, injustice and inequality at our University. ”

Sophia Alejando (‘21) is an intern for Baylor Line Magazine.

30

T h e Ba y lo r Line

NOTHING SHOWS GREEN & GOLD PRIDE BETTER THAN WHEN WE COME TOGETHER FOR EACH OTHER. We consider Torchbearers to be the life blood of our organization. You can keep the Baylor Family flames burning brightly for generations to come and join an exclusive group of Bears with a gift of $1,000 or more.

Become a Torchbearer today! baylorline.com/torchbearer

F al l 2 0 2 0

31

Sp ec ia l

32

T h e Ba y lo r Line

Truly, it’s lonely on campus.

“Across the university, students, faculty, and staff report low attendance, low traffic, and low morale, even as Baylor’s response to the COVID-19

The Full Picture

pandemic has been much more

S ce n e s f ro m w h a t d a i ly life lo o k s l i k e o n c a m p u s in ou r “new normal”

time for everyone — especially

thorough and careful than other universities. This is a difficult for an administration working hard to balance personal safety, sustainable solutions, and an almost universal desire to be back to “normal” as soon as possible. What follows are vivid examples of ways the university and its students are responding to this crisis. We may not know what’s ahead, but we can be sure we’ll get through this together as the Baylor Family.

F al l 2 0 2 0

33

Testing vans scurry COVID-19 panels to off-site labs from campus. Across the university, faculty, students, and staff are randomly selected for testing to maintain an understanding of the virus’s spread.

Although many students have to quarantine inside of their dorms, this has not kept them from finding humorous ways to cope with their situations.

Here are two signs reminding Baylor students and faculty to protect each other by wearing masks at all times when they are unable to socially distance.

34

T h e Ba y lo r Line

Signs, such as this one, are posted around campus reminding students to do their part in keeping themselves and others safe.

Signs like these remind students to stay safe while staying hydrated.

Each tent contains numerous plastic partitions and table dividers that allow students to eat or study with others while staying safe.

F al l 2 0 2 0

35

These arrows make sure that students are flinging their green and gold at least six feet apart.

This picture features the inside of one of the tents placed around campus during what would normally be a busy school day for students. While the testing tent is constantly in use, many other structures are vacant much of the day.

36

T h e Ba y lo r Line

Jenna Wilson (‘21) and her German Shepherd, Stormy, know that the best walks are safe walks!

2020 class essentials include masks and coffee! Baristas said lines are shorter than ever the Central Libraries’ Starbucks location.

In this picture one can see three of the six airconditioned tents that have been assembled on Fountain Mall to provide students with socially-distanced study areas as well as dining hall overflow areas.

F al l 2 0 2 0

37

H isto ry

38

T h e Ba y lo r Line

I In February and March of

From the Grave Sings Old Man River Buried in Greenwood Cemetery, one of Waco’s most famous native sons is getting fresh life breathed into his iconic voice through the work of a Baylor professor.

by Robert F. Darden (‘76)

1941, Julius “Jules” Bledsoe might have been the biggest name to visit the Baylor University campus.

Bledsoe’s upcoming appearance in Waco Hall on March 13 merited a front-page story in The Lariat, trumpeting the singer’s many accomplishments,

calling

him

“one of the greatest concert and opera singers of the present time.”

It was even claimed that Bledsoe had sung his signature song, “Old Man River” from “Show Boat” an astonishing 18,000 times.

F al l 2 0 2 0

39

But Bledsoe, who had maintained an exhausting schedule most of his adult life, collapsed of what was said to be a “cerebral hemorrhage” at his manager’s house in Hollywood on July 14, 1943. His funeral in Waco was front page news in the Waco newspapers and the memorial service was attended by thousands, both Blacks and whites, before he was buried in Greenwood Cemetery.

Perhaps even more astonishing was that fact that Waco native Bledsoe was an African American, one of the very first Black Americans to ever perform on the Baylor campus – as early as 1916. The same campus that had historically been off-limits to Bledsoe and all African Americans since its founding. And yet, in the breathless prose of The Lariat that day, Bledsoe’s appearance on behalf of British War Relief was “one of Waco’s most famous native sons.”

In 1941, two years before his untimely death, Jules Bledsoe was a star.

Bledsoe was born in East Waco on December 29, 1899 to a large family of singers and musicians. He showed prodigious musical talent early, performing in his home New Hope Baptist Church at age six, attending Bishop College in Marshall, and performing at an outdoor concert on the Baylor campus in July 1916 – a mind-boggling feat in that era of ferocious segregation.

In short order, while enrolled in medical school at Columbia University, he was cast in Eubie Blake and Noble Sissle’s ground-breaking all-Black revue, “Shufflin’ Along” in 1921. From there, he studied with top vocal coaches before making his New York debut in 1924. In time, Bledsoe would become the first African American to perform with a host of American opera companies and symphonies, establishing a flourishing career in Europe, writing and performing with the top artists of the day and even recording numerous radio shows with First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt.

It is “Show Boat,” of course that Bledsoe is known for. Bledsoe debuted “Old Man River” on Broadway on December 29, 1927, before returning to Europe, which allowed Paul Robeson to sing the iconic song in the American movie version.

Bledsoe’s Baylor concert, according to the Waco Sunday Tribune-Herald in 1941, drew a mixed audience of 2,500 people in a “packed” Waco Hall, who demanded repeated encores. After the show, he received “white and colored” friends and guests, the paper reports, at the home of his aunt Naomi Cobb at 817 North Fourth Street.

Today, despite his fame, Bledsoe is little more than a footnote.

Today, despite his fame, Bledsoe is little more than a footnote. His early death in that segregated age has reduced the legacy of this brilliant composer/ pianist/singer to a single song from a single Broadway musical.

Enter Dr. Horace Maxile, associate professor of music theory. Maxile, himself a brilliant keyboardist in great demand from gospel to classic to jazz venues, has immersed himself in Bledsoe’s nearly forgotten musical scores, arrangements, letters, programs, and other ephemera in the Texas Collection. In the boxes of rare documents, much of it written in Bledsoe’s spidery cursive, Maxile has discovered that far from being a onesong wonder, Bledsoe was prodigy on piano and a composer/arranger of uncommon skill and creativity worthy of international acclaim.

Maxile, who has published widely on classically oriented African American composers of the 20th century, was aware of Bledsoe’s ground-breaking career in opera and art song long before coming to Baylor – but not his compositional and piano performance skills. When Maxile visited the Texas Collection’s one-ofa-kind repository of Bledsoe’s papers, he found boxes of mostly unpublished compositions that Bledsoe had written for his many performances, including national network radio programs.

40

T h e Ba y lo r Line

T “The first thing that caught me was the breadth of work,” Maxile said. “I had not seen any purely instrumental compositions; all of his compositions that I'd seen were for voice. I found, among other things, a choral working, there are some other patriotic songs, there are spirituals, and there are perhaps lullabies or ballads in dialect in that collection.”

Maxile began the meticulous, sometimes excruciating task of deciphering Bledsoe’s compositional “hand” and discovered, he said, an artist whose harmonic language was musically interesting, even unique. The arrangements of so-called “Negro spirituals” showed real sensitivity, but Maxile said he marveled even more at Bledsoe’s impressive “harmonic vocabulary” in other compositions.

Equally compelling, was the artistic risk-taking and sometimes overt political statements found in some of Bledsoe’s most ambitious compositions, such as “Pagan Prayer,” which resonated with the treatment of African Americans in this country in the 1920s and ‘30s.

Many Black performers of the era, Maxile said, including the popular college “jubilee” groups, typically ended their concerts with crowd-pleasing arrangements of spirituals. Not Bledsoe – he instead performed the more challenging “Pagan Prayer.” “‘Pagan Prayer’ struck me because of the text and the setting, which was something totally different,” Maxile said.

As he meticulously combed through the reams of documents and sheaths of compositions, Maxile said he slowly began to get a sense of notoriously private Bledsoe as a person as well.

“It would be easy to think that someone who thrived in a career that was based on classical music would sometimes sit aloof from issues that were affecting the Black community,” Maxile said. “What I found, particularly at the time of the ‘Pagan Prayer,’ was the word ‘race’ in a negative term, in a negative light. There were some things that were going on with him personally with regard to dates and programming where I could see him writing to other people and saying, ‘I'm shocked that this is happening to me at this point.’

F al l 2 0 2 0

41

“

From being a one-song wonder, Bledsoe was prodigy on piano and a composer/ arranger of uncommon skill and creativity worthy of international acclaim. ” “These are personal statements about what might be going on with him. And there is a deeper contextual piece, especially when set against the other pieces that he arranged.

That's a really interesting thing to think about when you think about a Renaissance man: The vehicle of composition or the way that writing a piece of music can provide as much escape for the performer as the performance of a piece could actually give him. Not to put one over the other; both are expressive in their own way. But these pieces are uniquely him.”

Despite his successes throughout Europe, Bledsoe returned to the United States in the pre-World War II years and threw himself into fund-raising for the allied war effort.

“I often wonder, ‘Why did he come back?’”

Maxile said. “There are lots of jazz musicians who enjoyed being overseas because they just didn't have to deal with a lot of [racist] stuff. Still, home is home – and so there's something to be said for that. Perhaps the move from New York to California in the late ‘30s was sort of a move in that direction, to get away from some of the worst issues of race.”

As for Maxile, he said he hopes to perform concerts of Bledsoe’s unpublished music, as well as write several academic articles on the abundant creativity and imagination in the man’s compositions. His study of Jules Bledsoe has progressed, in time, to become a labor of love.

Why devote so much time to this?

“To create a greater awareness of the totality of his contributions,” Maxile said. “I hope that he gets another time to shine in his hometown.

Eventually, I would like for his musical and compositional gifts to, someday, reach a point where ‘Old Man River’ is not the only thing attached to [Bledsoe’s legacy]. ‘Old Man River’ might put him on the map, but his musicianship kept him on the map.”

Secondly, Maxile said he would like for these performances to bring Bledsoe’s compositional voice the attention he believes it deserves.

“I would also like to generate enough of a buzz for him as a composer to where, perhaps, we could move toward printed performance editions of them,” Maxile said. “That would take a lot of work and a lot of clearances, but I think it would be worth it.

There's way too much music there to just sit in manuscript form. It's just way too much.”

42

T h e Ba y lo r Line

And finally, Maxile said he dreams of having the concerts and research someday come together as the basis of a Jules Bledsoe music festival in Waco.

“I would love a festival that will highlight not just Bledsoe’s classical side or the concert music side, but that will also highlight Black music in general and black artistic excellence in many forms, including theater or visual arts,” Maxile said. “If he was indeed a Renaissance man, I don't even think he would want his legacy to be limited to just music. So that would be the pie in the sky idea, not just to say, ‘Yeah, Jules Bledsoe, ‘Old Man River,’ but instead ‘Jules Bledsoe, musician, composer, arranger.’ That's what I hope we get out of it.”

Robert F. Darden (‘76) is a professor of journalism, public relations, and new media at Baylor and editor emeritus of Baylor Line Magazine.

“

I don't even think he would want his legacy to be limited to just music. So that would be the pie in the sky idea, not just to say, ‘Yeah, Jules Bledsoe, ‘Old Man River,’ but instead ‘Jules Bledsoe, musician, composer, arranger.’ ” F al l 2 0 2 0

43

44

T h e Ba y lo r Line

HONOR THE LEGACY YOU INHERITED. FURTHER ON THE LEGACY YOU LEFT BEHIND. CONTINUE THE LEGACY FOR GENERATIONS TO COME. The Baylor Family is best when we build it together. baylorline.com/legacy

F al l 2 0 2 0

45

Reme mb e r i n g

Barbara “Babs” Baugh “Her loving heart and wonderful sense of humor were truly a gift to us all.”

The above quote is how Laura Hallmon (’96, JD ’99), President of the Baylor Line Foundation, will remember Barbara “Babs” Baugh, who was called Home in the early hours of Sunday, June 14.

“It is with a heavy heart that [we learned] Babs Baugh was called home to rest with our Heavenly Father in the early hours of [Sunday] morning,” Hallmon continued. “Babs has been a long-time supporter and friend of the Baylor Line Foundation/ Baylor Alumni Association . . . . We are so thankful to have had the opportunity to honor her with the W.R. White Meritorious Service Award at our Hall of Fame banquet this past winter.”

Babs, a friend to so many throughout the Baylor Family, leaves behind a legacy of overwhelming generosity and abundant grace, which will better the lives of Baylor students for generations to come. Her character, commitment, and courage were known throughout the nation through her work at the Eula Mae and John Baugh Foundation.

Established to continue the magnificent legacy of her parents, the Foundation is a voice and vehicle for so many higher education institutions and faith organizations. Babs’ lifelong work championed the values of compassion, inclusivity, and religious freedom.

“We at the Baylor Line Foundation are truly mourning the loss of our dear friend, constant encourager, and esteemed benefactor, Babs Baugh,” said Allen Holt (‘80), Executive Vice President of the Baylor Line Foundation. “In the 160 year history of the Baylor Alumni Association and Baylor Line Foundation, very few, if any, have had the kind of impact that Babs had on our alumni family. Her fun loving nature was contagious and her wise counsel was always sought. She was a tough minded force of nature and will be missed dearly by all who loved her and benefitted from her kindness.”

After attending Baylor University for three years, Babs graduated from the University of Maryland with a Bachelor of Music Education in 1965. She owned and operated a travel agency from 1971 to 2008, specializing in group travel. Her first relative to become a graduate of Baylor University was Ralph Tharp, her maternal grandfather, in 1917.

Other family members followed – Jackie ‘86, Kim ‘81, Julie ‘89, Sterling ‘13, Jenni ‘13, Katie ‘15, Jake ‘18, and Alayna ‘18.

46

T h e Ba y lo r Line

From 1985 to 2018, Babs directed the SonShine Singers, a 120-voice choir with a mission to reach nursing homes, and a group of 10 singers and dancers in Made-to-Order. She also sang in the Woodland Baptist Church Sanctuary Choir, where she has served as a deacon and past chair of the Church Council and the Missions Committee.

Babs was a founding member, past chairman and Lifetime Board Member of Baptist Child & Family Services. Kevin Dinnin claims she is the “matriarch of BCFS”. She was past president of the Baylor University Development Council and of the Baylor University Alumni Association. Babs has served on the boards of Visitors of Baylor University School of Music, the Baptist Joint Committee on Public Affairs, Coordinating Council of Cooperative Baptist Fellowship, New Baptist Covenant Steering Committee, Baptist Center for Ethics, B. H. Carroll Theological Seminary, and trustee of Mercer University.

Robert Feather (‘50), former Vice President of Development at Baylor, and his wife Caroline (‘54) fondly remembered Babs as not only a supporter of Baylor but as an unfailing friend, advisor, and champion.

“Babs Baugh was greatly loved and appreciated. She was jovial, genuine, and generous,” the Feathers said. “Babs enjoyed having friends and family surrounding her. Yes, we were all spoiled by her greatness. She always sought to respond to opportunities that benefited others. People trusted Babs because she was so trustworthy. She gave her children and grandchildren a sense of hope for the future.”

Throughout her long life, Babs was honored with many awards, including: Honorary Doctorate of Humane Letters, Central Baptist Theological Seminary; Dr. Herbert H. Reynolds, James Huckins, Pat Neff; Burleson, Cane, Brooks, McCall President’s Medal; San Antonio Business Journal Volunteer Leadership and Woman of the Year; and Mercer Meritorious Service in 2019. Most recently, she received the W.R. White Meritorious Service Award at the Baylor Line Foundation’s annual Hall of Fame Awards Banquet in February 2020.

Babs’ legacy lives on through her husband, John Jarrett; two daughters, Jackie Baugh Moore and Julie Baugh Cloud; as “Honey” to six grandchildren — Sterling, Katie, Jake, Breck, Alexa Mae, and Clara, and one great grandchild, Asher; and by the thousands of lives she touched in service to her Higher Calling.

“Babs encouraged us all to live life to the fullest and in the hope of God,” Robert and Caroline Feather continued. “Babs Baugh was a good samaritan. She knew what was important in life and never compromised. She was always gracious, willing to use her musical talents, and had a positive attitude and Christ-like spirit.

“Babs’ legacy will live on.”

We will miss Babs greatly and are so thankful for this legacy she leaves us. May we all be as selfless, giving, and humble as Barbara “Babs” Baugh.

If you would like to join in honoring Babs’ legacy, we encourage you to donate to the newly created Babs Baugh Memorial Scholarship Fund.

Donate today at baylorline.com/babsbaughfund

F al l 2 0 2 0

47

Friends,

Do you remember your first homecoming? I bet it was nothing like this year’s. With so much uncertainty (and social distancing) I hope you are still able to enjoy this annual experience and find ways to stay connected with former classmates, friends, and your Baylor Family, and that you stay safe in doing so.

At the Baylor Line Foundation, we are busy building more and more ways for you to do just that. Whether through engaging with our social media content, joining us in celebrating Hall Of Fame Honorees and Legacy Scholarship recipients, or through participating in our Voices Community, now — more than ever — we’re excited to continue the legacy of Bears across the generations together with you. While we may not be able to join in community in person, the myriad of ways available for us to join together digitally is astounding.

As we journey through this season, there are actions you can take to ensure the Baylor Line Foundation continues this mission and work in ways that will benefit you, your children, your grandchildren, and the entire Baylor Family. First, spread the word. If you know friends or, especially, recent graduates, tell them about our work. Point them to our website or social media profiles by sharing our content. Make sure they know how your Baylor Line Foundation has benefited you. Second, consider donating.

From funding scholarships, such as our existing Legacy program or the new Babs Baugh Memorial Fund, to supporting Baylor Line Magazine, your donations make a difference and make our work possible. Our Torchbearer program is another way to contribute and we consider it the life blood of the foundation. A gift in someone’s name — again, such as a recent graduate — is another great way you can continue the legacy. A final action we would love from you is that you keep providing feedback. We want to hear from you and champion your voice.

Our goal is to always be the organization that continues your legacy. We are honored to accomplish this goal in partnership with you and we always appreciate your contributions, support, and feedback.

Onward!

Allen Holt (‘80) | Executive Vice President

48

T h e Ba y lo r Line

CONTINUE THE LEGACY Your continued support makes so much possible and we couldn’t be more grateful. Your gift provides 50 students with over $100,000 in Legacy Scholarships each year, ensures you receive ever issue of

Baylor Line Magazine, and allows us to remain the independent and diverse voice of the Baylor Family.

Donate now baylorline.com/legacy or with the attached giving card

Continue The Legacy

An annual donation of at least $75 ensures you receive print copies of The Baylor Line and all members-only benefits.

S ponsored C ontent

Baylor Line Foundation PO Box 2089, Waco, TX 76703

ARE YOU ON INSTAGRAM? The Baylor Family is all about the relationships formed, even long after graduation!

Follow us on Instagram to keep in touch with other Bears, stay informed of the latest opportunities, and stay engaged as we all work to continue the legacy of the Baylor Family.

Follow us on Instagram today! baylorline.com/instagram