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There’s a photograph that doesn’t exist but very well could. It’s a still image dated somewhen shortly after the federal enforcement of school desegregation in 1964. It depicts young black professional and single mother Carolyn Beatrice Webb as she crosses the threshold of the newly integrated high school in Mounds. The expression on her face is cautious but unyielding, and her stride never slows as concrete transitions to hallway tile. As the year draws to a close, the all-black designated Mounds Douglass High School and Lovejoy High School, named after Lincoln-era abolitionist Elijah P. Lovejoy, join the all-white Mounds High School to create the institution we now know as Meridian. Carolyn, a Mounds City native and second oldest daughter from a family of eleven children, is the first black woman to be hired as faculty in the integrated district.

Webb Through 
Weddington

Generations of Possibilities

Carolyn’s daughter, Gwendolyn Weddington, vividly recalls her mother’s sacrifices. “I can’t remember a time when my mom didn’t work two or three jobs,” she says. A graduate of Southern Illinois University, Carolyn was the initial member of her family to attend college. Gwen recalls many nights when her mother was fully absorbed by education, studying in night classes or picking up extra classes to teach for additional income. Between a profound respect for education and dedication to a community always larger than oneself, Carolyn was a model for the outlook Gwen would apply to her life and career.

When Gwen and her mother moved to Chicago in the late 1960s, and Carolyn went to work at DuSable Upper Grade Center High School and Malcolm X College in disenfranchised parts of the city, Gwen would experience the primary memories she attributes to her future interest in city and regional planning. “I remember going to school with her and oftentimes visiting students’ parents in public housing,” she recalls. “Mom started a comic book program because she realized she couldn’t get the students to (willingly) read textbooks, so she would let them check out comic books after they finished their lessons, and this inspired them to read. She also facilitated summer camps, so I’m constantly interacting with and watching her in the community.” In addition to teaching and outreach, Carolyn served as Dean at Robert Morris University in Chicago before her retirement in 1996. Gwen lives up to the family legacy as the Director of Community Engagement with the Atlanta Housing Authority. “All of my work, all my life has been to help people to rise up to access better housing, education, healthcare, and economic opportunities, including workforce development” she emphasizes.

 

There’s another photograph that doesn’t “exist” per se, but the term becomes rather relative when you consider what is true and what could easily be true. It’s a candid snapshot of Gwen as a young adult; she turns away from the sidewalk in front of her aunt’s house in Atlanta and heads to a front door out of focus in the background. “When my aunt Rockie moved to Atlanta, I came to visit,” she remembers. “It just inspired me that there were so many young people in my age group that looked like me that were just on top of the world. People were happy, friendly, and vibrant. It was just a whole different world than what I had experienced and was used to.” Two months later, Gwen tracked down a job in Atlanta and relocated to The Big Peach.

 

In true form to her departed mother’s memory, Gwen’s path has always been flooded with light from the beacon of scholarship. While her classmates were on summer break, she stayed in class to round out her already impressive GPA. “My mind always had to be active,” she explains. The commitment to bettering our knowledge through the broadening of experiences is evident in the success story of Gwen’s son, Nicholas, who has followed closely in his “nana” Carolyn’s footsteps.

 

Nicholas Weddington is a Research and Product Development Engineer at TE Connectivity, a Switzerlandbased tech company that specializes in manufacturing sensors. He’s currently working at their Paris site in Les Clayes-sous-Bois. “With my grandmother [Carolyn] being an educator, school always came first not just for myself, but our neighborhood in general,” Nicholas says. “I can recall us being in elementary school and sitting at the kitchen table with my grandma checking our work and making sure that we got everything done before we ran out to play.” When he was younger, his mother motivated him to join STEM programs and summer camps at Georgia Tech so he could learn about the possibilities available outside of his immediate orbit. “I grew up and always had that love for science and biology,” Nicholas says, describing what drove his passion early on. “My sophomore year of high school, I began to pick up an interest in robotics.”

 

As CEO of Fernbank LINKS Robotics Team located in Atlanta, GA, he competed internationally and facilitated regional competitions. By the time he reached college age, he developed an appreciation for the foundation of robotics so much he decided to study it at the Worcester Polytechnic Institute in Massachusetts. He graduated with his Bachelor of Science Degree double majoring in Robotics Engineering and Electrical & Computer Engineering in 2020.

 

There are several photographs here worth mentioning, some which may be real and others which may as well be. They’re moments that contain a multitude of possible outcomes for the next frame and are the tangible outcomes of past dreams: Nicholas on a street in Bangkok, Thailand. He speaks perfect Thai to a passing stranger to his mother’s amazement. Another is of Nicholas at his desk during his internship in Shanghai, China. Several others are in this album, including portraits of him and his mother in Sydney, Australia. Gwen’s face is proud, notably absent of disbelief. “I told Nicholas, ‘This can’t be special,’” she remembers, “meaning we have to teach every child that we know who has a desire to learn, that wants to be an engineer, that wants to travel the world, how they can do it. We’ve got to help them.”

 

Nearly sixty years after a single black mother from Mounds City stepped into the epicenter of a national dialogue where we, as a country, started to grapple with a history of rampant and unforgiving systemic racial prejudices, the echoes of her movement up and beyond have rippled throughout the generations, and the wave has now lifted her grandson to great heights. Nicholas wants the students of Meridian to know there’s plenty of room where he’s at.

 

“Why does society encourage occupations in sports and entertainment? Million dollar contracts. Our goal? We want to make as much money as fast as we can so we can close the wealth gap for our families, because that’s what we’re told to do. That’s what we’re conditioned to do. So [we’re encouraged to] go be a rapper, they make money. Go be a ballplayer, they make money. If you work a regular 9-5 job, then you won’t make as much money as someone who works in entertainment. But nobody ever thinks to ask, ‘What’s the average salary for a software engineer?’” Nicholas can answer that for you. “If you graduate with a Bachelor of Science degree in computer science or software engineering, you can earn a starting salary of $100,000.”

 

“What I tell parents that come to me asking [how their children can channel the possibility of greatness], it’s hope, it’s persistence, and it’s the click. You have to find something that you are passionate about. What makes it click? Is it salary? Is it something that makes you feel like you are making an impact on society? Is it something that you’re happy about even if you didn’t get paid?” For Nicholas, a healthy community is best achieved when each member has a singular, powerful vision for themselves. He admits it’s a challenging task, but what are the alternatives? “You have to take risks and you have to have faith that things will work out and continue to push yourself,” he advises.

 

Far from the last chapter, there’s a photograph pressed firmly between the pages of “The Pragmatic Programmer.” Nicholas poses with his nana Carolyn, who set this in motion many years ago. The photograph is speaking to us, but we’re unsure whose voice belongs to whom. The rhythm is familiar, universal, unified, and stretches across generations prior and upcoming. “Engineering and STEM is not about me. It’s about the younger generation who doesn’t have the opportunity,” Nicholas says. “It’s about the next people who will be carrying this world forward. It’s about the next generation and making sure that they’re afforded opportunities that weren’t afforded to me, and I was afforded a lot of opportunities.”

 

The shutter closes. ‘Click.’ The subject in question is yet to be revealed and remains still on the other side, waiting for the correct exposure, the correct conditions, but regardless, they are there. Their moment waits for them.

We have to teach every child that we know who has a desire to learn, that wants to be an engineer, that wants to travel the world, how they can do it. We’ve got to help them.
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