Editor’s note: The following article is an op-ed, and the views expressed are the author’s own. Read more opinions on theGrio.
As I’m sure your social media feeds have informed you, it is Homecoming SZN in African America. When we last spoke, I informed you that one of my children, at age 8, made a life decision about where he wants to take his educational talents once he graduates from high school — Howard University. That hasn’t changed, but since that time, I’ve taken the journey to the one homecoming that I think will change his mind — SpelHouse.
For those not in the know, SpelHouse is the portmanteau of Spelman College and Morehouse College, two historically Black colleges (HBCUs) located across the parking garages from one another in Atlanta. Spelman and Morehouse Colleges, along with Clark Atlanta University and Morehouse School of Medicine, make up the Atlanta University Center, the consortium of schools located in Atlanta’s West End community. You really should come visit sometime.
And there really is no time like coming down for a homecoming weekend because let me tell you something, Black college homecomings are having the best years ever. I’ll give some of that credit to social media and the way all of us who attended and/or graduated from our various institutions have amplified our experiences to the masses. What used to be, at least in the case of SpelHouse, a largely alumni-only affair is now part of the fabric of October in Atlanta. People from near and far descend upon the campuses of Morehouse and Spelman and revel in the joy, excitement and positivity of the Black college experience.
Nearly every year I make the (usually) October trip to Atlanta to hang with the homies on the land where we went from being boys to men. There’s something magical about being back on campus — I feel better. Seeing people that I’ve known for 20-plus years who still remember me as the kid from French class warms my heart and soul to the point where I actively look for those same people every single year. I march slowly along the streets of campus, stuck in throngs of people who’ve learned in the same buildings I did or hung out on the Strip (I believe the youngsters call it “The Promenade” now … kids) or know exactly what I’m referring to when I say “Club Woody.”
SpelHouse Homecoming 2024 was everything it needed to be. The weather was weathering, allowing us all to wear shorts and T-shirts, which is important because where there are two or more Black people gathered in homecoming’s name, the temperature rises. I don’t know how many tens of thousands of folks were out there (schools are getting a little outlandish with their estimates these days — with that said, I think we had like six million people out there) but the sun was beating down and it was hot.
This is especially problematic when traversing the Middle Passage — I don’t know if that’s an official title for the absolute traffic jam that is trying to get from Westview Drive to West End Avenue via Wellborn Street but whoever came up with that stuck the landing — since it felt like it took an hour-plus to go 20 feet in either direction. But you know what, that feeling of even being out there with all those beautiful Black people was worth it.
I love every minute of homecoming. I love being on Spelman’s campus on Friday and prequeling the tailgate experience we will all have together that Saturday. I love walking down West End Avenue and stopping at every tent full of food, liquor and DJs and dapping countless people I only see once a year at homecoming but we receive one another like the best of friends. I love meeting new people that I’ve apparently known for two-plus decades. I love my class of 2001 folks and Sepia Soul, an event that I missed so much during its hiatus that I bought a ticket for this year before I even knew if I was definitely going to Atlanta for homecoming. I love the homies from my 1997 pre-freshman summer program, Center of Excellence in Science, Math and Engineering, that I see every year who always seem to be doing even more important things than the last time I saw them. Similarly, the mentors that the program gave us who still check in on us younger guys even though some of them are literally running the world at this point.
Look, I’m sure if you went to an HBCU somewhere in African America you believe your homecoming is the best. Some of you might even refer to your own homecoming as the greatest homecoming on Earth. It might be one of them, but there is only one SpelHouse and all who get to attend are standing in the shadows of magic every single time. Soon and very soon, I’m going to have to bring my kids out there (for a few early hours) to show them what it’s like to be in a place where good vibes and beautiful souls meet in the middle. And that’s when we know, for sure, my boys are going to Morehouse (my daughter already has her designs on Spelman — you know, SpelHouse baby and all). Anything else is uncivilized.
Panama Jackson is a columnist at theGrio and host of the award-winning podcast, “Dear Culture” on theGrio Black Podcast Network. He writes very Black things, drinks very brown liquors, and is pretty fly for a light guy. His biggest accomplishment to date coincides with his Blackest accomplishment to date in that he received a phone call from Oprah Winfrey after she read one of his pieces (biggest) but he didn’t answer the phone because the caller ID said “Unknown” (Blackest).