By Daryl C. Hannah - Feb 5, 2009
Keywords: civil rights, college, education, costs of college
More than six years ago, I had a tough decision to make: where to go to college. Despite my grades, I didn't have many choices. I could either attend the University of South Carolina (USC) and become another nameless face identified by the last four digits of my Social Security number, or I could attend Morehouse College, a historically Black all-men's college in Atlanta, and join their legacy of global leaders and thinkers. Needless to say, I chose Morehouse.
Today, I'm a 23-year-old journalist working for a national magazine, writing lead stories on crumbling financial institutionscrumbling financial institutions and discriminatory practices in the sporting world,discriminatory practices in the sporting world, with access to global thinkers from around the world.
But I must admit, I've always wondered how my life would be different had I attended USC.
Would I have the same confidence in my abilities working in corporate America, which is overwhelmingly run by white men, had I not attended a school that demanded I view myself as equal? Would I feel the same level of comfort discussing economic policy with the partner and cofounder of my company had I not attended a school that forced me to think globally and understand the global economy?
Honestly, probably not.
For more than 170 years, historically Black colleges and universities (HBCUs) have opened educational doors closed by majority universities. They have filled the void created by racism and bigotry--albeit with the financial assistance of white philanthropists--to foster an air of expectancy from their students that challenges and equips them to become proponents of change. And while they are not without flaws and they vary tremendously, their good far outweighs the bad.
You see, before Morehouse, I grew accustomed to being the lone Black person in most of my classes (including the teachers), which caused me to seclude myself from classroom discussions or volunteering for special projects. I expected my teachers to notice my work and magically select me for special projects.
That never happened.
Attending Morehouse challenged me to view myself not solely as a Black man but as a leader. There was something magical about walking the halls that great leaders such as the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Howard Thurman and David Satcher walked. There's no doubt that alumni from other HBCUs feel a similar sense of pride about their schools and, more importantly, about themselves and their abilities.
While not all students faced with choosing a college will be able to attend Morehouse, or any of the HBCUs, all will undoubtedly have to come to a conclusion about their future. I'm still in my first "real" job, but attending an HBCU was the best decision I could have made to set my career on the right path.
The views expressed herein are solely those of the writer, DiversityInc journalist Daryl C. Hannah.
Readers' Comments
HBCUs are relevant for a few, but not all, future college students. They have some serious flaws (e.g. money, lack of modernization, admitting students that would not receive serious consideration at any non-HBCU) that do not make them competitive in the collegiate market. I guess some go for the necessary self-esteem; but, you shouldn't go to a school for self-esteem purposes alone.
I attended a HBCU; but, I transferred to a non-HBCU. I did not enjoy my time there and I didn't feel the school was cost effective. Needless to say, I received the college education I deserved once I transferred. My children will not attend HBCUs for the issues that I have with them.
Unfortunately, I must say that the writer did not inform his readers that he had to complete his major at another school as his school (my husband's alma mater, actually) did not offer it.
.