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In his column below, James Ragland (BS ‘84) shares his reaction to being named a 2003 Distinguished Alumnus . The piece ran the week after Homecoming in the Nov. 6 edition of The Dallas Morning News.

University is the real honoree
By James Ragland

Talk about humbling, especially for a poor boy from East Texas.

I went home last weekend to my college alma mater, Texas A&M-Commerce, where the university’s president presented me with a gold medallion and a beautifully framed certificate honoring me as a Distinguished Alumnus.

Until I had that medal draped around my neck and that certificate in hand, I kept waiting for university President Keith McFarland to say, “Just kidding.”

But he wasn’t, and now I’m the 94th alumnus in the 114-year history of the university to be recognized in such a manner.

No. 93, Alton L. Biggs, also was inducted last Saturday. Mr. Biggs was twice named Texas Outstanding Biology Teacher and is the author of the nation’s current top-selling high school science book, Biology: The Dynamics of Life, now in its sixth printing.

He’s one smart cookie – but more than that, he’s another example of someone rising above their circumstances and overcoming long odds. He was the first one in his family to go to college.

I wouldn’t say anything about our inductions, except I’d be remiss if I didn’t talk about the real success story behind our accomplishments – the university itself.

“It was here,” Mr. Biggs said in his acceptance speech, “that I learned that you don’t have to attend an Ivy League university, or any of the other great universities in the world, to succeed.

“It was here on this campus in various classrooms that I learned two important things: to write critically and to think critically. It was here that I learned that how you look on the outside doesn’t matter to your friends.

“It was here that I learned that present preparation produces future outcomes. It was here that I learned that it is up to the individual.”

Mr. Biggs, 52, recently retired from teaching after 26 years. He now owns Biggs Educational Consulting and still writes textbooks. He’s come a long way. He grew up in McKinney with two younger sisters. His mother was a seamstress, and his father was a machine technician. Both are now retired.

“My circumstances were not obvious to me as a child,” he said in his speech. “Today, I know that I grew up poor, but I had no conception of the idea of poverty when I was a child.”

We laughed about that yesterday in a phone conversation: “I remember coming home once and telling my mom that I needed some canned goods, and she asked me why,” Mr. Biggs said. “I told her the school was going to give them to poor people. And she said, ‘We are poor people.’ “

My circumstances weren’t much different. My mom worked as a cook or domestic and, for a while, in a chickenprocessing plant. My late father worked for a well-heeled rancher. We were on and off welfare, yet I was always taught that if I worked hard enough and studied long enough, nothing was impossible.

I still believe that’s true.

Truth is, Mr. Biggs and I were the sort of students that William Leonidas Mayo had in mind when he founded the university in 1889. He wanted to create a place where rural families and those with limited resources could send their kids for a solid education.

It’s a place where I was challenged in the classroom and cared for outside of it – like the history teacher who invited me to spend Thanksgiving Day with his family when I couldn’t afford to go home.

Many alums still affectionately refer to A&M - Commerce, which has undergone many name changes in its colorful history, as Professor Mayo’s College. And some can still recite Mr. Mayo’s founding motto: “Ceaseless Industry, Fearless Investigation, Unfettered Thought, Unselfish Service to Others.”

When I first came to the university in 1980, I often strolled through the second floor of the Memorial Student Center and looked at the gallery of photos, the pictures of men and women who’d been honored as distinguished alumni. I used to say to myself, “I hope that one day I can earn a spot on that wall.”

The fact that my alma mater thinks I’ve lived up to that standard is an incredible honor, one I still can’t believe happened.

And here’s the real kicker: I was inducted Nov. 1, which happens to be my mom’s birthday. I couldn’t write a better ending than that.
Reprinted with permission of The Dallas Morning News

She took the news falling down In the photo at left, Marlonda Malcolm, a junior radio and television major, seems to get a little weak in the knees when her name is announced as homecoming queen. But, as the picture above proves, she finds her feet in time to congratulate king Adrian Brown, a junior general business major.

If you’re interested in hiring her away from us, you’re more than welcome—but we DO expect a good salary.

—Alumni Relations Director Kayla Price at the Homecoming Luncheon, bemoaning the graduation of student worker and Homecoming Chair Danna Freeman

I thank this University for teaching me how to learn, for teaching me how to lead, and, most importantly, for teaching me how to love. —Gary Finney (BS ’79), Gold Blazer winner (left, with Alumni Association Vice-President Rheba Eisenhower)

She is one dedicated secretary to come out to my house in the boondocks—through the mudholes, the wild turkeys, the dogs, and one wild pig named Emily.

—Alumnus Marvin Page (BS ’71, MS ’75), whom Kathy Hoskison from agricultural sciences went to see about speaking at this year’s Farm Boy Luncheon

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