"I am committed to fostering an environment at Morehouse where no act of violenceregardless of its motivationis tolerated," Massey said at the time, in a written statement. "The College will devote the high level of resources this issue deserves." The press release added that under Massey, "the College is adhering to its long-standing institutional values, which include civility, community, compassion, and respect for diversity in all its manifestations."
Although Massey's initiatives seemed encouraging, the actions of the administration would prove to be far less so. Before the attack occurred, Morehouse students had been planning their own Forum on Homophobia, organized by the Morehouse student government association and Omega Psi Phi fraternity. But after the attack, when they gathered for the event, they were told by the administration that it had been canceled.
"Students . . . were told they could not host a forum on homophobia," explained Kevin Bynes, a member of ASSEFA (A Safe Space Everywhere for All), a group of local collegians that formed in response to the assault.
Officials said the students would still be allowed to meet, but made clear that any group daring to allow open discussion of the crime would have its charter revoked. When the students insisted on talking about the beating, the Campus Life department revoked the charter of both the student-government association and Omega Psi Phi. Although Massey reinstated them a day later, the message had been sent.
A few months later, in April, the alumni got a message of their own when Massey's task force sent out the list of 22 questions about homosexuality on campus. "How comfortable are you with homosexuals that you know?" the college asked, along with queries like "How much should homosexuals and heterosexuals be treated the same?" and "How much have you experienced negative encounters with people who are homosexual?"
How prejudiced can you be, people wanted to ask the school. "There's an attitude problem at Morehouse," says Boykin, the writer and activist who received the survey from an alumnus and put it online. "I've met dozens upon dozens of black gay men that graduated from Morehouse, and they say there is a denial of homosexuality.
"Morehouse is supposed to be a leader of the black community," he adds. "It doesn't want to be known as a place that educates black gay men."
Historically black colleges and universities have a responsibility to educate all their students, free of harassment, Boykin says, and to set an example for African American society at large. Instead, they're almost following behind. "We need the Morehouses, the Spelmans, the Howards, to lead the black community in the right direction," he says. "We need them to be harbingers of change."
Bynes, of ASSEFA, says an institution like Morehouse should know better. "To call yourself part of the Black Ivy League, to be the top college for black men in the country, and to have such Neanderthal values is laughable," he says.
For these deeply entrenched values to change, many say, the culture at Morehouse would need a seismic shift. "The real change is going to come from the students," Bynes says. "The administration has shown time and time again that they are apathetic to the needs of LGBT students. The change will come when the students organize and hold the school accountable."
Unfortunately, some gay students may no longer have the heart to continue the struggle for acceptance. "I want my degree to say 'Morehouse' on it," says Holland, who hopes to graduate this spring. "I stayed because people are needed to stay and fight the fight, but I don't feel like it's worth my time."
Or life.
"Something cataclysmic would have had to happen" for Morehouse officials to really address the problem, says Harris.
More cataclysmic than the brutal attack on Love? Harris's answer chills in its succinctness:
"He would have had to die."