I Can’t Remember a Time I Wasn’t Proud to Be Black

Chuck Hughes, 78, has lived many lives: from the forgotten neighborhood of the Black Bottoms, he became a fireman, radio host, four-time city councilman, and president of the Gary Chamber of Commerce, and has witnessed the evolution of Gary.

This account has been condensed and edited for clarity.

I’ve lived a life that should be in a book — one I might write one day to be a lesson to others. 

The question of when I felt proud to be Black was brought up to me, and I had to sit back and truly think about that. 

Looking around my office with pictures and awards from my accomplishments over the years, I realized that was a loose question: When was there ever a moment when I didn’t feel proud to be Black?

Black pride and power have been something that I have known since I was a young boy in Gary, something my grandmother instilled in my siblings and me.

In my household, my grandmother ran our family like a true matriarch, and I mean ran it. 

From reading Jet magazine weekly to the Sunday paper to the nightly news, she always kept us in the know and helped us understand our Blackness. When she sat us down with the Jet edition that featured Emmett Till’s body in the casket, that image was planted in my mind. It gave the perspective of what we had to do, who we had to be, and what we were facing.

I had that discipline at home and at school.

The pride was perpetuated when I went to THE Roosevelt High School, yes, the one the Jacksons won the talent show at. It’s where I learned that we all bleed red, but some of us bleed black and gold. 

They set the standard that didn’t exist anywhere else for us. 

Those instructors whipped us into shape both figuratively and literally. As one of the only schools in the area serving Black students, Roosevelt’s legacy lives on in Gary. 

While we might have received secondhand books from white schools, that didn’t stop our instructors from instilling in us the desire to learn and to be knowledgeable. 

They’d tell us that history and words haven’t changed, so we’re going to study and learn from what we have. Maybe that’s why I feel like a walking encyclopedia at times. 

When we were in public, they wanted us to represent them and ourselves well, even in the face of blatant racism. Playing varsity football for three years, I saw it firsthand when we couldn’t play in the state playoffs but could win the city championship. And win we did against those who thought they were naysayers and doubters, not knowing the spark our elders ignited in us.

Going to Roosevelt and knowing that being Black and Blackness were accentuated made it all of those things that helped build my character. That’s why there were so many graduates of the school at the top of their field, owning companies, getting involved in local government, and going into the world to do great things.

I would never trade the education that I got from Roosevelt, other than what my parents and culture instilled in me.

I lament that kids today can’t understand what the school did for me and others in this city, but we can’t turn back time. However, we can use history as both a measuring stick and a teaching tool to help them navigate what they face in today’s society.