A funeral service for Elon sophomore James Michael Foreman, who died on April 11, was held in Raleigh on Sunday, April 15. Fifteen people paid tribute to Foreman, including Elon faculty member Anne Cassebaum. Read this note to access her remarks...
James Michael Foreman
That Mike Foreman should pass away from us is devastating to all who knew him at Elon. Mike was one of the rare ones. He already had a mature, compassionate vision; he drew others to it.
When I tried to speak of Mike with another student, a member of Students for Peace and Justice, we just looked at each other. She too had known Mike well enough to feel the full loss. Mike so clearly had important work to do and striking abilities for it. We would have held Michael in the palm of our hands and said, “Jesus, not this one.” “Protect him.”
But we do not choose, and we may never get to understand.
What we do know at Elon is that Michael Foreman is a great human being, a great spirit, and we love his unassuming ways, his honesty, his irrepressible sense of fun. Last Thursday night, sitting in a huge circle, students spoke about Mike, about his relaxed outreach to others, the warmth and comfort of his friendship. One student said she would try to have the same integrity Mike had and not let her moods and stresses change the way she treated her friends, but be like Mike — constant, unhurried, inclusive. This was easy for Mike; he had that gift.
Students in classes with Mike found they could respect him. Mike was a philosopher. He sought the whole picture. He spoke from a deep perspective, and students listened. One time in class, we were going around and about the issue of minimum wage. Then Mike asked, ‘What is a fair wage?” and changed the whole discussion. He was like that; he had thought things through.
At the core, Mike was about social justice, not that he would ever announce that; he would not rant from a soap box, but ask the slow questions that could open someone up to a new perspective. His level of awareness was remarkable. In conversations in my office, Mike felt like a colleague. He wrote on poverty clearly tracing its many roots to cultural attitudes, to the cruel waste of war and militarism.
When people at Elon, learning I knew Mike, asked me this week, “Was he a great student?” I wanted to scream, “No, he was a great human being,” but, in fact, he was a great student too.
For Mike, studies were real, the pursuit of his values and life work; he did not need the motivation of grades. He was asked to do an hour or so of community service work each week in one course and fell into going to the Y after school program daily. His Communications Professor Dan Trigoboff was struck by his technical know-how; on a recent tour of a television station, Mike talked casually and knowledgeably with the camera men there; he had several promising internships to choose from this summer.
In our writing class, I came to know through our talks and his writing how much Mike loved his family, the fun his cousins were, how the families blended together. He spoke of his mother’s support and understanding. He wrote of his father, and that tragic loss, but also of summer mornings in the shop, waiting to get in the truck, turn on the music and get to Bo Jangles. He took great strength from his father and his whole extended family who shaped the Mike we love.
At Elon, we, like you here, have suffered a major loss. Students and faculty like me are still reeling. This may never come together for us,
But we do know Mike, and we feel his spirit. We can take strength from him. We can keep him alive in our hearts and actions. Though few of us will have his style and ease, we can be the force for decency and justice that he was in his life. We can pick up the torch. We can carry on. Mike would want us to.
Anne Cassebaum
English Department