Yesterday as part of a health seminar, I toured the new Cherokee Health Center on Western Avenue in the Mechanicsville area. The event was sponsored by the Knox County Minority Health Coalition. As part of the celebration, a tribute was paid to Dr. Weaver, a local boy who became a highly lauded surgeon. In recognition of the doctor's talents and contributions Knox County Mayor Ragsdale had officially declared that day “Dr. William Weaver Day”.

In a truly heartwarming speech, surrounded by his children, old buddies from high school, and many students from the area, Weaver honored his teacher, Mr. Hills, a science teacher who saw he had talent and pushed him forward. "Many times I had to apply the 'Board' of Education," he joked, ”to William's 'Seat' of Knowledge." Many professionals in the audience also remembered Mr. Hills pushing them beyond what they believed was possible.

Weaver pointed out that at one time no black student could enter into the Knox County Science Fair, but Mr. Hill somehow got that barrier knocked down. A couple of students went to the fair the first year with a really embarrassingly simple project. They were dazzled by what the other kids knew (the ones who had textbooks and resources in their schools). and came home discouraged, but the experience only fired the teacher up. In spite of his having only one textbook to teach from and no equipment, Mr. Hill felt determined to win at that science fair the next year.

Apparently young Dr. Weaver was "a laid back kid, but with plenty of talent", so Mr. Hill focused on him. He went to his house to get the boy's parents' permission to work him as hard as he could and that included "whipping him a bit when that was necessary". The next year, young William Weaver brought home a silver trophy. He also knew he was going to be a doctor some day.

If only people could realize how many African American and minority students are succeeding in spite of going to Knox County's "inferior schools". It really would touch people's hearts and maybe give them a better sense of how the black community here really is, how it is not composed mostly of classic ghetto types founded on New York and Los Angeles images of adults who don’t care about their kids and roving gangs. In fact, it is led by a huge contingent of proud, educated, devoutly Christian, successful people who are knocking themselves out trying to give back to their community and uphold what is best in their race. They also love Knoxville. They have deep roots here, despite the fact that most of them suffered some pretty awful racism in the past.

"I worry," Dr. Weaver said, "about this neighborhood. You see the new Food City and this new facility. Things look different. The projects are gone. But what most people don't know was that those projects were full of love. If I did anything wrong somebody in the community would set me straight or they'd call my mother and she would. Today, I happened to notice a tree my buddies (several of his friends are now officials in county and city government) and I used to stand under. That tree is still standing and to me it represents the soul of our community. That's something we should work hard to keep."

As I sat there surrounded by all the neighborhood camaraderie, by generations of Knoxville's black community talking about their deep love for our city, I couldn't help but feel sorry for the people in Knoxville who feel prejudiced about race because they don't really know the black community here. They have no clue how hard many people are working to keep the Eastside a place they can be proud of, a neighborhood that reflects not their poverty but their gentleness and caring. If more of us white people did we would not just be amazed, but also realize how lucky we are in Knoxville to have a black community who cares as much as we do about raising successful children, improving their incomes, and then coming back home to give.

In between awards, chatting and touring a young woman from Austin East played the violin. She had just won a scholarship to UT and was now playing with the Knoxville Symphony Orchestra. The Knoxville branch of the UT nursing sorority was also there, a small army of bright minority women dedicated to helping everyone in Knoxville live healthier, longer lives.

I guess in the end I thought the old saying "You can't judge a book by its cover" seemed especially apt. And you also can't judge a person by their color.

Working together Knoxville can remain a city that honors its diversity, but still retains its old community flavors and ways. All it takes is a little respect, and the knowledge that in our hearts most of us want the same things for ourselves, our kids, and Knoxville. The “soul” of Knoxville is precious, and it belongs to all of us, and we ought to do whatever we can do to preserve it.