Academic

Tribute to Dr. John Hope Franklin by Professor Trina Jones (Duke/UCI)

By Angela Onwuachi-Willig

I remember the first time I met Dr. John Hope Franklin.  He kissed the back of my hand, and oh I was so charmed.  I knew of Dr. Franklin?s awe-inspiring intellect, of his ground-breaking publications and his prestigious awards, but I did not know of his elegance, his generosity, and his kindness until I met him in person.  I also recall the second time I met Dr. Franklin.  It was some months later.  As I started to reintroduce myself, before I could get ?Dr. Franklin, I?m? out of my mouth, he interrupted by saying ?Trina (with that warm lilt in his voice that those who knew him will recall), how are you doing??  I was his junior colleague, in another department.  Yet, Dr. Franklin knew me by name.  I think he knew, or tried to know, all of the African-American faculty at Duke by name.  That is the sort of man he was.

Over the years, I was extremely blessed to have a number of conversations with Dr. Franklin.  We talked about scholarly discipline, about politics, about art, about academic institutions, about his passion for orchids and my love of roses, about understanding while disagreeing, about activism and resistance, and about aging.  He allowed me to tease him about his ?celebrity? status.  In our conversations, I was smart enough to listen more than I talked for I knew that I was in the presence of not only a great historian, but a participant in and a witness to history.  And I learned so much in those precious moments for Dr. Franklin never ceased to be a teacher.  He was not one to parade his intellect and accomplishments or to challenge aggressively or to demean.

He was both too secure and too humble for that sort of nonsense.

Rather, Dr. Franklin taught by patiently listening, by responding, by sharing his experiences and his views in a forthright and honest fashion.  He had a real gift for storytelling.  And he was sharp, with a historian?s eye for detail and accuracy.  Indeed, I still smile when I recall the number of times I witnessed Dr. Franklin politely - but firmly - correct factual misstatements by people 40 or 50 years his junior and their nervous laughter, surprise, and appreciation for his mental acuity. 

I am under no illusion that my relationship with Dr. Franklin was unique.  Although I was never enrolled in one of his classes, I was in many ways just another of his adoring students.  Notwithstanding this fact, he had the gift of making each of us feel special, as if his time with us really mattered.  During a time when I was doubting my chosen profession, Dr. Franklin helped me to remember why I do what I do and what a privilege it is to interact with young people.  But, more than that, through his writings and his wisdom, he taught me to value myself.

This man of great achievement and high station kissed my hand, called me by name, and gave me the gift of his time.  In doing these things, he affirmed our shared humanity and made me (and no doubt countless others) see that I mattered.  By his example, Dr. Franklin encouraged (and still encourages) me to be better than I am and to give more than I have given. 

Dr. Franklin insisted that I call him John Hope (and I did).  But, in my heart, he was (and will always be) Dr. Franklin, our beloved elder, teacher, mentor, and friend. 

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Full post as published by BlackProf on March 29, 2009 (boomark / email).