In 1982, I encountered Desmond Tutu for the first time. I was part of a group of students who had established an international human rights law program at Yale Law School.
We organized a conference and invited Tutu to be our keynote speaker.
As it turned out, the South African government would not allow Tutu to leave the country. Somehow, he managed to send his remarks on a cassette player. Despite the poor audio, he conveyed a powerful message— speaking about the evils of apartheid notwithstanding the efforts of the South African government to shut him down. Two years later, Tutu would receive the Nobel Peace prize.
Years later, in 2006, Tutu came to my university, William & Mary, to receive an honorary degree and to deliver the commencement address. Upon hearing this news, I volunteered to assist him during his time at William & Mary. For a few days, my job was to take him wherever he wanted to go and to make sure that he was on time for all of his events.
A few things about Tutu stood out for me. First, he exhibited tremendous joy and playfulness. During our last night together, we had dinner at an upscale restaurant. All of the wait staff wanted to meet him. In short order, Tutu was up dancing with the staff, his face expressing sheer delight and his laughter reverberating throughout the restaurant.
Tutu was deeply interested in every person he met. Wherever we would go, he would want to stop and engage those he encountered. These were not brief encounters. He would spend considerable time with each person.
At the commencement ceremony, Tutu helped lead the procession into the William & Mary basketball arena. Immediately, the procession stalled. Tutu had noticed a group of disabled individuals who were seated near the front of the arena. He was down on his knees speaking with each person. Pomp and circumstance continue to play again and again while Tutu engaged with his new friends.
As it happened,Tutu delivered his commencement address at a time when the Anglican Church—his church— was in turmoil around issues of human sexuality. Tutu took advantage of the opportunity, asking students “please help me, so that we form a world where gay and lesbian are not treated as if they were half human.” Tutu was a strong believer in human connection.
My time with Tutu was short, but I will never forget this remarkable man.
Davison M. Douglas
William & Mary Law School
Davison Douglas, a member of our institute’s Leadership Council, is the John Stewart Bryan Professor of Jurisprudence at William & Mary Law School. He teaches Civil Rights Law; Constitutional Law and History, Race and American Law, among other courses, and he served as the law school’s Dean from 2009 to 2020, when he returned to teaching. Professor Douglas has published important scholarship on the civil rights movement, the desegregation of public schools in the South and North, and the battle for racial equality in America. He is in the process of completing a book about the Rev. Dr. Pauli Murray, a human rights activist, legal scholar, feminist, Episcopal priest, labor organizer, and multiracial Black, LGBTQ+ community member who played a critical role in the legal battle for public school desegregation, women’s rights in the workplace, and rights for LGBTQ+ people based on Title VII of the 1964 Civil Rights Act.
I am proud to be a friend of Dave Douglas since we met as freshmen in college in 1974, and I’ve admired him ever since. I’m thrilled to be working together with Dave as we build our institute, expand our impact, and magnify the work of nonviolence and social justice today.
Jonathan D. Greenberg
