History is a rich tapestry, woven from a variety of perspectives and voices.
But sometimes, we fail to notice important motifs in the pattern.
I’ve heard many stories from the late 1960s at Pacific. Though it was an era of intensive social dialogue and protest — perhaps not unlike today — the most prolific stories of the age are about the Boxer statue.
I’ve heard of its origins, the legendary flashes and tosses, the passionate memories of alumni who fondly remember their few chances to see, touch or even hold the statue.
I’ve heard how Boxer disappeared around 1969, many say captured by the Black Student Union, never to be tossed or flashed again.
But what I’ve rarely heard — or shared — is the rest of the story.
The conventional wisdom is that members of the BSU said Boxer was a distraction from more pressing matters of the time. But that’s a story long untold.
Where are the stories of our students of color in the midst of the Civil Rights Movement? What was Pacific’s place in that moment in history?
Perhaps because we were so focused on a statue, and less on people, we missed a critical piece of the picture.
That’s not a mistake we should repeat, and we hope this issue of Pacific takes a small step toward correcting the record.
As we celebrate the unveiling of Boxer III this fall, we are excited to honor school spirit and the alumni who so enthusiastically remember the camaraderie of their time as students.
But we also seek to share a broader story that includes the history of the BSU and its members then and now. We seek to continue facilitating dialogue around the experiences that all of our students and alumni have in the world.
We don’t pretend that the article is complete; we hope others will choose to share their own stories in their own ways.
Because the intricate tapestry of our history isn’t complete without all the threads — without them, we cannot see the full picture of who we have been and who we are today.
Jenni M. Luckett