Navigating the transition from an Historically Black College or University (HBCU) to the "real world" can be eye-opening. As a fresh graduate, I realized I was stepping into a room where I might be one of the few Black individuals.
Professors at institutions like Howard University addressed these realities, often sharing stories about the extra effort required to prove oneself and the challenges of having your voice heard when speaking up or engaging in discussions. They warned their students to tread lightly when it came to sharing their stories, advising against revealing details that could potentially deter potential employers due to negativity surrounding natural hair and other aspects of Black culture.
Although these warnings didn't deter us from entering the workforce, they fueled our passion to improve white-dominated corporations' perceptions of Black Americans.
However, the situation was, in fact, more complex than feeling disconnected in corporate America.

Sydney Anderson, a talented student from Delaware State University, penned an article for their school newspaper, sharing an overwhelming incident that happened during their team's trip in April 2020. The team's bus was stopped in Liberty County, Georgia, by the sheriff's department. They were accused of violating traffic regulations due to a Black driver operating the vehicle.
Anderson, eventually becoming a prominent figure in high school, described the situation as a constant reminder of what it means to be Black in America. "Breathe not too hard, speak but don't sound guilty, speak but never respond," she wrote, sharing how this experience shaped her perception of life as a Black individual.
The deputies performed a thorough search of the bus, unearthing marijuana in the process. Liberty County Sheriff William Bowman, who is also Black, admitted that one of the deputies was unaware of the school's historical background and acknowledged that this might have contributed to the racial profiling.
Anderson's team coach, Pamela Jenkins, stated that the team felt violated by the deputies' tone and excessive focus on marijuana. One of her players described the experience as traumatic.
The school announced plans to file a formal complaint with the Department of Justice's Civil Rights Division over alleged racial discrimination. They issued a statement expressing concern about the racial implications of such searches, emphasizing that individuals should remain aware of the thin line separating the ordinary and extraordinary, the regular and the extraordinary, the secure and the victimized - a line that affects Black Americans and HBCUs more profoundly.
These statements from the school principal didn't escape my notice and should be echoed by regular readers. For decades, Black Americans and HBCUs have faced abuse and discrimination.
Howard University experienced a racially motivated incident during Black History Month in February 2023. The women's lacrosse team was insulted with a racially charged slur before a game at the Clinton Stadium. Although the Presbyterian Church quickly distanced itself from the student responsible, the damage had already been done. This incident served as a reminder of the fear that continues to govern these student's identities, including their racial identity.
In the same month, more than a dozen HBCUs received bomb threats. When we first received a bomb threat against Howard University (alongside other colleges), I was somewhat concerned, but after a swift investigation, everything was deemed safe.
Such incidents remind us that attacks on HBCUs aren't new but are still a harsh reality that has persisted since the first HBCUs in the United States were founded in 1837. These institutions were founded to provide fundamental human rights and education to Black Americans, who wouldn't have access to such opportunities elsewhere. Wilberforce University, the earliest private HBCU, was burned to the ground in 1865. LeMoyne-Owen College also endured a similar incident in 1866, which resulted in a fire that destroyed the college during the Memphis Riot, leading to the deaths of 46 Black individuals.
Despite these tragic occurrences, many of these historical institutions have managed to persist. Wilberforce and LeMoyne-Owen have rebuilt from the ground up. Fisk University, which was also among the colleges threatened this February, has continued to stand the test of time.
Despite their resilience, historical institutions have long been underfunded. The American Council on Education found that these universities have experienced significant decreases in federal funding per full-time student between 2003 and 2015, making them reliant on local, state, and federal resources. Although the Biden administration recently announced a $2.7 billion funding allocation for these institutions, the lingering effects of underfunding remain.
Attending an HBCU provided me with unforgettable experiences, albeit experiences that were both elevating and humbling. Many of my fellow students came from predominantly white high schools and cities, sharing feelings of alienation (intentionally or unintentionally) based on their race, hair color, and background. Yet, once they became part of this community, they felt accepted for the first time, no longer feeling like minorities.
During my time at Howard, I learned more about Black history than in my high school years, and I reveled in the sense of belonging as I walked around campus. As the graduate season approached, I looked back on my college years fondly, despite the global pandemic and personal struggles I encountered during my tenure. However, I can't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for the legacy of my historic institution and the safe space it continues to provide for future generations of Black Americans.

Further Reading
Real-World Challenges for HBCU Graduates
In the "real world," many Black individuals may not fully grasp the challenges that come with being the only Black person in a situation. Professors at Howard University often spoke about the challenges of proving oneself and advocating for one's own voice, especially when discussing controversial topics or speaking up.
An article penned by Delaware State University lacrosse player Sydney Anderson detailed a distressing incident that happened while her team was traveling to a game in Florida. Their bus was stopped by the Sheriff's Department of Liberty County, Georgia, due to a Black driver allegedly violating traffic regulations.
During the stop, the police conducted a thorough search of the bus and revealed marijuana on board. The fact that Liverpool County Sheriff William Bowman, who is also Black, acknowledged that the deputy might not have been aware of the historical significance of the school played a role in the racial profiling.
Coach Pamela Jenkins noted that her team felt violated by the law enforcement officials' aggressive tone and excessive focus on marijuana, while one of her players described the experience as traumatic.
Confirming the school's intent to file a formal complaint with the Department of Justice's Civil Rights Division, the school's president addressed the racial implications of such searches, stating, "No one should forget that the line between the ordinary and the extraordinary, the regular and the extraordinary, the secure and the victimized is always close by, and it affects Black Americans, and HBCUs, more than others."
These words, which should resonate with everyone, underscore the reality that Black Americans and HBCUs have faced discrimination and abuse for decades.
During February, also known as Black History Month, Howard University experienced a racially motivated incident. The women's lacrosse team was insulted with a racial slur before a game at the Clinton Stadium.
While the Presbyterian Church quickly distanced itself from the individual responsible, the damage had already been done. Such incidents serve as a stark reminder of the fear that continues to overshadow Black students' identities, including their racial identity.
On top of that, more than a dozen HBCUs received bomb threats during this same period. When our institution received its first bomb threat, I remained somewhat concerned, but after a swift investigation, everything was deemed safe once again.
Historical incidents like these remind us that bomb threats against HBCUs have long been an issue, dating back to their inception in 1837. HBCUs were founded to provide fundamental rights and education to Black Americans, an opportunity that was otherwise not available.
One of the earliest institutions, Wilberforce University, burned down in 1865. LeMoyne-Owen College also endured damage in 1866 during the Memphis Riot, an incident that claimed the lives of 46 Black individuals.
Despite these unfortunate events, many of these historical institutions have managed to persevere. Wilberforce and LeMoyne-Owen have since been rebuilt. Fisk University, which was also among the schools affected by a bomb threat this February, has continued to thrive.
Although HBCUs have persisted, they have faced consistent financial struggles. The American Council on Education reported that these institutions received significant funding cuts per full-time student between 2003 and 2015. This insufficient funding is especially problematic for public HBCUs, which rely more heavily on federal, state, and local resources than non-HBCUs.
While the Biden administration recently announced a $2.7 billion funding allocation for HBCUs, our government must remain aware of this ongoing issue. HBCUs have a long way to go before they can catch up to white, predominantly white institutions (PWIs) in terms of resources and opportunities.
Attending an HBCU provided me with unforgettable experiences, both exhilarating and humbling. Many of my peers had come from predominantly white high schools and neighborhoods, where they often felt isolated due to their race, hair color, and background. Once part of this community, they experienced acceptance and belonging for the first time, no longer feeling like minorities.
During my time at Howard, I learned more about Black history than in my entire high school career and found comfort in walking around campus in a hat, feeling at home. As the graduate season approached, I looked back on my college years nostalgically, despite navigating the global pandemic and other challenges. However, I can't help but feel profoundly grateful for the legacy of my historic institution and its continued efforts to create safe spaces for future generations of Black Americans.
