Randall Robinson

Randall Robinson just wanted to be noticed. It was 1950s Richmond, Va., and Robinson was a 13-year-old delivery boy awaiting a signature for groceries he had delivered to a family in the white suburbs. He was standing in the shadow of an old prewar icebox listening to family members talk about the most embarrassing matters when he suddenly realized they didn't see him. As much as he shuffled his feet and cleared his throat, no one paid any attention.

Given Nelson Mandela's place as an international icon and apartheid's as a relic, it may be difficult to remember that not very long ago, most senior American officials believed that South Africa's white racist regime would last indefinitely. For much of the 1970s and '80s, while Mandela languished in his cell on Robben Island, the United States sent messages of comfort to his jailers. Henry Kissinger advised President Nixon not to scold Pretoria publicly, and Nixon took the advice.

Randall Robinson just wanted to be noticed. It was 1950s Richmond, Va., a town where Jim Crow still ruled, and Robinson was a 13-year-old deliv ery boy awaiting a signature for the groceries he had delivered to a family in the lily-white suburbs. He was standing in the shadow of an old prewar icebox listening to family members talk about the most embarrassing matters without missing a beat, when he suddenly realized they didn't see him.

He is not a man known for mincing his words or carefully crafting statements to ease the dialogue. Rather, he is recognized for forcefully articulating his position while maintaining a measure of grace. Attired in a finely tailored jacket and gray pants, Randall Robinson could be mistaken for a corporate officer, but in reality he is an infantry soldier fighting for the moral high ground in the chaotic world of global politics.

Given Nelson Mandela's place as an international icon and apartheid's as a relic, it may be difficult to remember that not very long ago, most senior American officials believed that South Africa's white racist regime would last indefinitely. For much of the 1970s and '80s, while Mandela languished in his cell on Robben Island, the United States sent messages of comfort to his jailers. Henry Kissinger advised President Nixon not to scold Pretoria publicly, and Nixon took the advice.

He is not a man known for mincing his words or carefully crafting statements to ease the dialogue. Rather, he is recognized for forcefully articulating his position while maintaining a measure of grace. Attired in a finely tailored jacket and gray pants, Randall Robinson could be mistaken for a corporate officer, but in reality he is an infantry soldier fighting for the moral high ground in the chaotic world of global politics.

American black leaders, concerned that President Bush's objectives in Somalia are too limited, called Tuesday for U.S. military forces to maintain order in the famine-stricken African country until an effective government can be established. Randall Robinson, executive director of the lobbying organization TransAfrica, said at a news conference that, if American troops only open a food distribution network, then get out quickly, the operation will "do nothing more than (postpone) the disaster."

Africa remains the unknown continent. Most Americans know it only through TV news images of wars and famines--and Randall Robinson demanding reform in South Africa, Somalia and other nations. As the executive director of TransAfrica, the national lobbying group he founded in 1977, he fights to push U.S. foreign-policy support for democracy, human rights and economic reform in Africa and the Caribbean. A Harvard Law graduate, he takes aim in Washington with his encyclopedic knowledge of Africa.

Police arrested 17 people outside the South African Embassy in Washington today in the first of dozens of demonstrations across the United States to mark the 10th anniversary of the Soweto uprising. Among those arrested without incident were Randall Robinson, executive director of the TransAfrica organization, Walter E. Fauntroy, the District of Columbia's congressional delegate, and Mary Francis Berry, a member of the U.S. Civil Rights Commission.

Health and Human Services Secretary Donna Shalala is leading a presidential delegation to the funeral of African National Congress leader Oliver Tambo, the White House said Saturday. The funeral is set for today in Johannesburg. President Clinton sent the delegation "to convey U.S. respect for the ideals of peace and democracy which marked Tambo's public life," a statement said. Tambo, 75, died from a stroke a week ago. Other members of the U.S. delegation include the Rev. Jesse Jackson, Rep.

Randall Robinson just wanted to be noticed. It was 1950s Richmond, Va., and Robinson was a 13-year-old delivery boy awaiting a signature for groceries he had delivered to a family in the white suburbs. He was standing in the shadow of an old prewar icebox listening to family members talk about the most embarrassing matters when he suddenly realized they didn't see him. As much as he shuffled his feet and cleared his throat, no one paid any attention.

Randall Robinson just wanted to be noticed. It was 1950s Richmond, Va., a town where Jim Crow still ruled, and Robinson was a 13-year-old deliv ery boy awaiting a signature for the groceries he had delivered to a family in the lily-white suburbs. He was standing in the shadow of an old prewar icebox listening to family members talk about the most embarrassing matters without missing a beat, when he suddenly realized they didn't see him.

Africa remains the unknown continent. Most Americans know it only through TV news images of wars and famines--and Randall Robinson demanding reform in South Africa, Somalia and other nations. As the executive director of TransAfrica, the national lobbying group he founded in 1977, he fights to push U.S. foreign-policy support for democracy, human rights and economic reform in Africa and the Caribbean. A Harvard Law graduate, he takes aim in Washington with his encyclopedic knowledge of Africa.

American black leaders, concerned that President Bush's objectives in Somalia are too limited, called Tuesday for U.S. military forces to maintain order in the famine-stricken African country until an effective government can be established. Randall Robinson, executive director of the lobbying organization TransAfrica, said at a news conference that, if American troops only open a food distribution network, then get out quickly, the operation will "do nothing more than (postpone) the disaster."

The protest surrounding Sheila Pinkel's montage (Quick Takes, July 28) brings to mind the Jack Nicholson character's response in the movie "A Few Good Men": "The truth? You can't handle the truth." It also reveals how racism and ethnic tensions continue to simmer just below the patina of denial created and maintained by the white and powerful of our nation. And when the veil is snatched away in answer to the question, "What's your/our point," the reply, as now-expat Randall Robinson notes in his most recent book, "Quitting America," is "Oh, that."

Randall F. Robinson of Seattle and Russ Johnston of Pomona, landscape architecture graduates of the Cal Poly Pomona School of Environmental Design, won first-place honors in a national competition for a land reclamation design based on a sand and gravel operation in San Bernardino County. Both graduated from Cal Poly Pomona in June. They won with a proposed industrial park that will include a hotel/conference center complex and a golf course.