In what was an exciting, vibrant and thought-provoking event, the U.S. Military Academy Equal Opportunity Office proudly hosted the annual Black History Month Observance on Feb. 16 at the West Point Club.
This year’s theme, “African Americans and the Arts,” illuminated the stage with powerful performances and poignant reflections. The Cadet Gospel Choir uplifted spirits with their rendition of “The Best is Yet to Come,” while Capt. Aniya Knotts, a Department of Behavioral Sciences and Leadership PL300 instructor, moved hearts with “Lift Every Voice and Sing.” The Cadet Jazz Club added their musical magic, filling the room with energetic melodies.
The attendees also viewed the African American history and graduate exhibit on display at the club from the Archives and Special Collections provided by Lisa Gomez, the USMA Library exhibition librarian.
The observance of African American and Black History was established by Public Law 99-244 by Congress on Feb. 11, 1986. The observance happens annually through the month of February and is recognized by the Department of Defense to celebrate the contributions and rich culture of African Americans to our nation.
The highlight of the afternoon was the stirring address by Archie Elam, an exceptional 1976 USMA graduate. During his service, Elam exemplified valor and leadership, notably leading 36,000 troops assigned to the 18th Airborne Corps in one of the most historic maneuvers in U.S. Army history during Operations Desert Shield and Desert Storm. He moved his troops deep behind enemy lines, more than 250 miles, to cut off the Iraqi Army escaping Kuwait and helped destroy the Republican Guard.
Elam began his speech acknowledging his wife, Susan, and his 1976 classmates who were in attendance, including Dr. Rick Morales, who was the class first captain.
“I’m blessed to be in a class with so many amazing people,” Elam remarked about his close colleagues.
He began his speech with a simple yet profound question: “What is my story?” For Elam, it is a story that originated in the inner city of Philadelphia. He was the third of five children to parents who moved north from the Jim Crow south of Greenwood, South Carolina.
At the age of 16, his mother pursued a college education to become a teacher. During her college years, she met his father who delivered ice to the farm where she spent her childhood. Remarkably, this farm belonged to her family, and she was raised as the twin daughter of a sharecropper named Archie, the grandfather after whom he is named. This farm held significant historical significance, located not far from where Elam’s great-grandfather was enslaved prior to the Civil War.
Elam said his parents saw things growing up in the south that “a lot of us should never see.” Among them was the lynching of his mother’s brother, Anderson, on the unfounded rumor that he looked at a white woman the wrong way.
“In their time growing up, that’s how close injustice stood. You didn’t have to go far or do much to see its face,” Elam remarked. “I often wondered how you would navigate your day with the nearness of such history like that at your shoulder all the time.”
Elam proclaimed those experiences did not make his parents bitter, but instead “made them more determined” to change their history.
During World War II, his father served as a truck driver, later transitioning to the Infantry during Korea and Vietnam. Meanwhile, his mother, pregnant with Elam, relocated to Philadelphia while his father served with the Special Forces at Fort Devens, Massachusetts.
“My dad finished his career as an Infantry squad leader at the same post where I later commanded a company,” Elam said.
Elam mentioned that his mother “was a steel beam of a person and the rock of our family who taught us about the power of faith – that belief in things not seen.”
His mother also taught him and his siblings the value of education, emphasizing the need to bring home all their books every day. He recounted an incident in junior high school in mid-June when he had no homework and didn’t bring his books home. Despite this, his mother insisted he return to school to get his books.
“My mother made me get back on the bus and go back to school and find a janitor to unlock the door and get to my locker – and get all my books,” Elam explained. “Here I am at 8 p.m. on a Friday night doing this … there was no recurrence of this offense.”
Besides the importance of education, his mother taught him the value of being a responsible citizen.
“Being poor was not an excuse as she voted in every election and talked about the voting experiences … in the south with poll taxes and being asked things like what is the first sentence of the next to last paragraph of the South Carolina constitution,” Elam said. “Having grown up with that, she made it clear to us that voting and citizenship were important.”
His mother marched with Martin Luther King Jr. to open up Girard College to Black students in Philadelphia for which she received a hand-written letter from President John F. Kennedy.
“She kept that letter until she passed away, and I respected that,” Elam said.
One time he witnessed his mother, as they walked to church, get “wolf-whistled” by one of a group of gangsters at the street corner.
“She stopped us all and told us to wait as she asked me to hold her Bible,” Elam said building up the suspense. “She calmly walked up to this group of thugs, looked at the one who whistled and with one swing of her purse, knocked him out cold. There was no retaliation – she earned their respect.”
What did he learn from many of those lessons that his mother taught him?
“I learned that life was valuable,” Elam enlightened the audience. “We all count. I saw too many people my age growing up in Philadelphia who were dying from guns, gangs and drugs – all before their time.”
Two events that touched him in his childhood were the Birmingham Church bombing by the KKK on Sept. 15, 1963, that killed Addie Mae Collins, Cynthia Wesley, Carole Robertson and Carol Denise McNair.
“They killed four little girls who were going to Sunday School,” Elam said. “Their pictures were placed at the front of my Sunday School class. All I thought was ‘They could have been me or my siblings or one of my Sunday School classmates.’ What kind of hatred, what kind of evil makes you OK with that? I had a question with no answers then.
It happened all because there was opposition by some to school integration in Birmingham, Alabama.
“Their answer (KKK) was to put a bomb under a church,” Elam exclaimed.
“The other event was riding at the front of a bus while heading to junior high school,” Elam said while jokingly adding that his brother told him that “we worked too hard to sit at the front of the bus, so never sit in the back.”
However, on this day, a gang fight started outside, and the kid seated next to him on the bus caught two stray bullets and died during the ride.
“Managing these kinds of challenges and then stepping into a classroom and trying to get focused was the daily cycle effect,” Elam said. “Not the kind of stuff you can sit down and tell your teacher about.”
Subsequently, Elam talked about his father who saw combat in three wars and earned the Combat Infantry Badge with two stars. However, despite his gallant service, he endured racism within the Army that affected him, and then caused difficulties at home.
“It did not excuse some of the things that happened, but as a kid growing up, it wasn’t clear to me what was going on,” Elam said. “It was something I learned more about as an adult.”
He asked the audience, “Where do you go at the end of the day to deal with the frustrations you bring home from what you endured?” Alcohol use. Domestic violence. Money troubles. Or worse. “There were no counselors, mental health experts back then … where do you go?” he questioned.
He then gave an example of an incident his father experienced when he was the first sergeant of a basic training while visiting Fort Dix, New Jersey. They had to make a stop there on the way to the PX and Commissary.
His dad’s company commander, who walked along a line of vehicles getting washed, looked under a truck and yelled out, “Somebody get that (n-word) sergeant over here and get this truck cleaned!”
Elam’s mother broke down in tears in front of all the children at the disgusting disrespect given to his father.
“That is when I started to understand the load that they were carrying, which is something that has never left me,” Elam said.
Elam had a few educational bumps in the road before attending to West Point. Standing at an impressive 6’7” today, he was already towering at 5’10” by the age of 10 years old. Despite his stature, without assessing his academic records, he was put into Special Education, and back then, Special Ed only offered three classes – homeroom, gym and lunch. This experience taught Elam a profound lesson about educational equity and the importance of advocacy.
His mother went to bat for him literally because once she learned of his placement, she arrived at school with a purse in one hand and a baseball bat in the other ready to give an earful to the principal.
After navigating numerous obstacles, including his mom’s visit to a congressman, who years later nominated Elam for West Point, he finally had the opportunity to meet with the school guidance counselor.
During their meeting, the counselor told him something he would never forget, “You are a big kid with good hands, I think you can be a great carpenter.”
Elam said jokingly that, “For the record, I was terrible at woodshop.” However, it caused much angst in him.
“That angered me that she thought I was only good enough to be a carpenter, so I decided I will show you,” Elam said. “I channeled that into excelling in school.”
In a dramatic bit of irony, seven years later, Elam returned to the same school with the Cadet Public Relations Council (CPRC) as a Yearling. He met with the same counselor, who initially did not recognize him in his uniform. However, after he showed her his yearbook from ninth grade, she became ashen faced and apologized to him.
“Maybe we made a mistake back then,” Elam said. “Kids navigate stuff like that today. All of us sitting here must be alert for that.”
Elam said in life that sometimes, “We all get here with hard work and luck. And you know luck can go both ways.”
His life changed in 10th grade when he was lucky enough to be moved to an affluent, predominantly white high school with a NASA-sponsored aerospace magnet program. He said there were “4,000 students and less than 200 looked like me.”
In an environment where he saw new textbooks for the first time, Elam realized the profound impact of the low-quality education he had received up through ninth grade, despite earning excellent grades. Determined to bridge the gap, he worked tirelessly to catch up with his classmates, finishing in the top 10% of his class, competing as a varsity athlete and assuming the role of class president.
“High school was transformational for me,” he explained. “I went from this crazy inner-city gun-ladened, drug-loaded school to an aerospace magnet high school – it was wonderful. It set me up well for West Point.”
Then it led to his second transformational experience, arriving at West Point in July 1972.
The experience was far from easy. Just a week before he reported for R-Day, Elam became the target of an assassination attempt by local Philadelphia gang leaders who were jealous of his determination to overcome the challenges of inner-city life and strive for greater opportunities. After the detectives concluded their investigation, his dad promptly took him to New York City overnight to remove him from that dangerous environment.
As Elam described it, “West Point is hard like woodpecker lips.” While subjects like calculus were easy for him, others such as rock squad swimming proved to be very challenging. He emphasized being a member of a “terrific class,” where the motto, “cooperate and graduate,” was lived out and everyone made each other better.
However, during his plebe year at the academy, one evening as he walked back to his barracks following wrestling practice, he was stopped by an upperclassmen. This encounter would later set him on a lifelong involvement with West Point and its commitment to diversity.
Elam was the subject of an anger-laced rant from the upperclassmen, who criticized him for being a person of color receiving preferential treatment to enter the academy as an athlete. This experience left Elam angry and considering leaving the Corps of Cadets. He submitted a letter to his Company E-1 tactical (TAC) officer the next day.
However, his TAC officer opted to hold onto the letter for the rest of the week, giving Elam time to reflect on his decision.
“During the week, all these E-1 upperclassmen started coming by and checking in on me asking, ‘How are you doing, man, I heard what happened,’” Elam said. “One of them was our future superintendent, Bob Caslen, who was my team leader at the time. Another cadet is a name you would know, future Secretary of Defense Lloyd Austin, and he was the second person who came by to see how I was doing.”
During the Friday E-1 dinner formation, which took place where Grant Barracks is today (formerly known as Old South Barracks), two vehicles – a jeep and panel truck – pulled up at the end of the ramp. The cadet who hazed Elam emerged, accompanied by all his belongings packed in a laundry cart.
“The cart went into the back of the truck, he went into the jeep and off he went,” Elam said. “I found out later he was being separated.”
Then on Saturday morning during an in-ranks inspection, Elam’s TAC officer came up to him and asked, “What do you want me to do with this letter you gave me?” and Elam told him, “Let me have it back.”
“In that moment, I had made up my mind that I was not going to be just a graduate, I made up my mind then that I was going to be a West Pointer – there’s a difference,” Elam said. “That is what brought about my involvement with diversity and being back here as an outreach officer … it was because I had great mentors when I was here.
“I had Joe Anderson, Class of 1965, as my plebe sponsor and if you Google “The Anderson Platoon,” you’ll read stories of his life as a platoon leader in Vietnam where he was awarded the Silver Star for valor,” Elam added. “I had mentors like Larry Jordan, Class of 1968, who was the first African American brigade sergeant major, a job that I later held. He was the first African American who commanded the Armor School and the first African American Inspector General.”
Elam also mentioned other mentors like Army West Point Track and Field Coach Mel Pender, who was an Olympic Gold medalist, and Gary Steele, Class of 1970, who was also his track coach and the first African American to earn a varsity letter in football at West Point.
“Those were the kind of folks who looked out for us here,” Elam said proudly. “What they poured into us is part of what made us who we are today.”
As Elam’s speech was coming to a close, he offered many words of wisdom to the cadets and young officers in the audience.
“There will be some moments of challenge in your careers … when you’re out there in the force, there is going to be some circumstances that aren’t going to be right,” Elam said. “I learned from my mentors here that in those kind of circumstances, I needed to remember what this place taught me about adhering to standards and the Army values. Leading your men and women well – looking out for them, those basic things. You follow that, let the rest go.
“I had my share of circumstances where I could have stood in the corner and screamed out, ‘racism,’ but I was in the cavalry squad, and no one had time for that,” he added. “You do your job well and if you do that, that’s the example of Benjamin O. Davis and so many others – they did well despite what was in front of them and around them. And what they did spoke louder that what anybody said. That is your example.”
Elam gave a few bullet points as his final words of wisdom to the gathered crowd at the West Point Club as he started with “Be and stay part of what West Point is and what it can be. It’s going to take all of us to do this.”
His next piece of advice was “Don’t give any oxygen or any sunlight to the forces and the voices of hate, ignorance and division. Those are the cards played by someone with a weak hand … they don’t have credibility, they don’t have the ability, they don’t have the depth, so they go to that crazy stuff.”
He said remember the meaning of the African word – Ubuntu.
“It’s an African Zulu word that expresses the idea of humanity to others,” Elam said. “It is often spoken as a reminder – ‘I am what I am because of who – we all are.”
In conclusion, Elam finished his speech with a nod to history, specifically Black and family history.
“Black history is not separate, it’s American history. It is one of the many threads in the fabric of this country, and like any thread of any garment, if you pull it out you rip the fabric,” Elam said. “It needs to be there for it to be strong. Everybody’s story counts. In that message about history, I will tell you that you need to take ownership of your history starting with your family.
“Your family’s history did not start on a slave planation in the south somewhere …. You have the tools today to find out a lot really quick,” he concluded. “You need to do that as I learned as a father of three daughters and they would come and say, ‘Dad, I’m sitting in school and I’m listening to kids talking about grandparents being in castles and such, where did we come from?’ You have to have a better answer than what you may have today.”
In the end, Elam's narrative serves as a beacon of inspiration, reminding us of the resilience and fortitude that define the African American experience in America. His humble beginnings living in the inner city led to an honorable military career and a second career as a business executive, management consultant and community leader.
As we celebrate Black History Month, let us honor the past, illuminate the present, and inspire the future.
For more on the current Cornwall-on-Hudson resident and board chairman of the Hudson Valley Riverbank Historic Sites and Museum, read the following question and answer session with Archie Elam that touched on information not fully expressed in the story.
Q: How exciting is it to be the guest speaker at your alma mater for the Black History Month Observance and telling your story to others?
Archie Elam (AE): I am beyond words to express how honored I am to even be considered as a guest speaker for such a momentous event at West Point!
I have attended my share of such events. It will be no small task to follow in the steps of so many terrific people!
Q: Within the black history moniker, are there things you want to impart to the audience to talk the scope of being black in America, etc.?
AE: Being Black in America for me has a broad scope. First, we are all Americans. I do not wear my race on my sleeve. My life, like that of so many others, has been touched by the challenges we all face … Racist is not who most of us are. Something said loud, or angrily, or repeatedly does not make it a fact or the prevailing view.
We must actively fight against this. This United States of America, this singular experiment in the history of mankind, this multi-racial democracy is ours. It belongs to all of us. It will take all of us to stand up for it, to speak up for it and if our country asks, to fight for it.
Q: As a 1976 West Point graduate, how did your experiences here help shape you into the leader you became?
AE: West Point was the second of two transformational experiences that made me the person I am today. It reset the course of my adult life. Our class arrived at West Point during the Vietnam War in July 1972. We had seen a president (JFK) assassinated, a pope (John the 23rd) pass away, MLK and RFK assassinated and the rioting that followed. We had seen the protests and the terrible way our Vietnam veterans were treated. We thought, we (America) can do better than this.
I was a member of a terrific West Point Class of 1976. The relationships and experiences I had with them were fundamental. We cared about everybody making it. “Cooperate and graduate” was what we lived to. We are close to this day. I had good mentors while I was here … my experiences here prepared me well for most of what I saw after. While you are here do your best always, learn and try things as much as you can. Get to know your classmates.
Q: From West Point to your career as an officer, being Black, racism comes with the territory over the years, how have you overcome those moments and used them as a steppingstone / teaching moment to teach others and just become a better person yourself by building your character?
AE: Understanding the experiences and pathways made by those who came before you is critical. It will give you perspective on dealing with whatever your current challenge (real or perceived) is. The graduates of color who preceded me, not just Henry Flipper, John Hanks Alexander, Charles Young and Benjamin O. Davis, but those who followed like Minton Francis (’44) and Roscoe Robinson (’58) and others in the ‘40s, ‘50s and ‘60s endured enormous challenges – almost without words.
… Upon graduation from West Point, I was commissioned in Armor and Cavalry. I found out quickly that there were not many Black officers – from any source of commissioning in that branch. I was the only officer of color in my first assignment to a cavalry squadron. In Germany, I was in the Army’s largest combat brigade – three tank and two infantry battalions. Across the three tank battalions, only two of the 15 company commanders, me included, were Black during my entire five-year tour there.
There were some moments of challenge along the way, of course. I learned to meet those moments not with getting mad and calling ‘racism’ in that sense. I met those moments with the advice my mentors had given me – do those things that USMA taught me. Do the right things by your Soldiers and your adherence to the Army’s values and let the rest go. Be a good teammate. Stay positive. You must give before you get. Go for help when you need it … and live by what USMA teaches you about character. It got me through more than a few difficult spots.
Q: What are some important things you took away from your Army career … whether it was deployments especially the First Gulf War, leaders you served under to those most important to you that you reflect upon often as to contributing to where you are today?
AE: There are several important developmental and life things I took away from my time as an Army Officer and that contributed greatly to where I am today. On leadership – Who you are matters! Be an authentic ARMY OFFICER. You can do that and still be “Black.” Orders are always in your name. Talk plain to those you lead. Respect them and what they know. Have faith in them. I hear from Soldiers I led to this very day.
My Army career included a long tour in the Pentagon as an Operations Research Analyst first in the Secretary of the Army’s office leading teams in the building of automated decision-making systems for Army leadership and later on the Army Staff, running them for decision-makers.
The broad array of experiences I had there, and the learning of the higher style and level of leadership needed in a large or strategic organization versus a tactical one, it set me up well for the things I did later in the Army and in civilian life afterward.
My deployment to the First Gulf War after Washington was another life-changing experience. Even there as the head of combat operations for a mechanized division in 18th Airborne Corps, I dealt with some issues of race but overcame them.
The night before the ground war started, the commanding general came to me and told me that my team and I needed to each write a letter to leave with the Division Surgeon to be sent to our loved ones in case we did not make it back from the deep strike encircling attack we had to make.
Sitting in the desert, behind our CP wrestling with how to speak my thoughts into a cassette tape brought me to clarity with my Maker and about what really mattered in my life. It is my faith and values, my family and people who I love and those things – the real things that matter to me most. I take care of those things. I make time for them. I keep them first.
Another lesson learned: What you do for others’ lives beyond you. That which you do just for yourself will go into the ground with you. I served with some superb leaders in the Gulf War! I even corrected Norman Schwarzkopf! The lessons and experiences I had there shape what I do to this very day.
Q: Since your Army career, you have had a business career and then working in a nonprofit organization … what did you take away from those experiences that you reflect fondly on?
AE: My post-Army career in business, consulting and non-profit work would not have been possible were it not for the things I learned and did at USMA and in the Army. My fondest takeaways from both have been the tremendous people I got to know and work with, and the differences made in the lives of so many people touched by our service.
Q: You have been involved with the West Point Diversity Conference in the past among the many things you have done … in the end, how important is it to you to have a social impact for others to progress in their lives while also under the scope of advancing diversity in society?
AE: The fire that got lit and put me on the path that led me to my lifelong involvement with the success of West Point and its diversity came from what was my single worst day at West Point (the anger-laced rant by an upperclassman mentioned in detail in the story).
… It is and remains important to me to live and operate in a way that would make my family and my ancestors proud. I am reminded of a quote from the movie “Amistad” – “You are the reason why your ancestors existed.” They are looking over my shoulder wherever I go.
As a graduate, I believe there is a role for all of us to play in making West Point the best version of itself and in making our country a “more perfect union” and the best version of itself.
My story is not a unique one, it is just one of the many that our graduates of color have and have mostly not told.
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