By Dr. Javaune Adams-Gaston and Dr. Tony Allen
Those of you who are tuned into the story of historically Black colleges and universities (HBCUs) understand one simple truth about our institutions: We love homecoming. For HBCUs, homecoming is about fond, unmatched memories of years past, classmates reuniting, the music of world-class marching bands, and that camaraderie and food at the never-ending tailgate.
But it is also something more.
For the 101 of us graduating more than 325,000 students each year, we also remember our origins. Born out of a woeful American history of legal separation and abuse of Black people, the material facts are clear: 1) HBCUs created the Black American middle class; 2) Before Tyler Perry or Ryan Coogler movies seemed to represent some small examples of the power of the Black dollar in the United States, HBCUs contributed more than $16 billion to America’s gross domestic product annually and continue to do so in largely marginalized, underserved communities; and 3) HBCUs graduate approximately 325,000 students annually, and our graduates disproportionately represent the best and brightest Americans of color in science, technology, law, education, politics and more.
At HBCUs, we do not “suffer fools” who believe that somehow our students, staff, faculty and alumni are less than. Those narratives reflect systemic inequities that have too often plagued our institutions’ growth—and sometimes our own mindsets—as we strive to find our fair share of the resources available to us. And this is not just a money thing. Ours is the responsibility to guard against those who would rather do us harm than help multiply the American benefit that comes from our achievement.
So, on a cold, rainy October day, imagine what it meant for 47,266 of us to attend a football game at Lincoln Financial Field, home of the reigning world champion Philadelphia Eagles, cheering on two legendary NFL players who realize both the enormous power and potential of HBCUs and have now set their sights on helping train our young scholars.
We are grateful for our head coaches, Michael Vick and DeSean Jackson. As NFL teammates and on their own, Vick’s and Jackson’s careers, personalities and profiles have brought something special to the Mid-Eastern Athletic Conference (MEAC), where both our schools proudly play. But their attitudes have said even more. They each came to us not because of what they could do for us, but for what we could do together. Because of these two good men, it was a second homecoming for Norfolk State University and Delaware State University, marking a moment for HBCUs around the country that watched both our schools tell our collective story on a national stage.
The game was riveting, as was the joyous occasion of homecoming occurring in the stands and stadium surrounding it: a community of people celebrating a proud legacy on a national stage. Too often, our institutions, particularly during homecoming season, are threatened in a moment of profound joy by outsiders whose sole purpose is to disturb and disrupt. Suffice it to say, there were no incidents—no random acts of violence, no inappropriate behavior, no threats to life or safety—just joy.
Recently, we met with Commissioner Sonja Stills of the MEAC and our Council of Presidents and Chancellors to discuss how we will come together to ensure that across all our schools, we lean on each other for safety, protection and prayer. On Dec. 16, the MEAC schools will host our student affairs and public safety teams, as well as representatives from many other HBCUs around the country, to share best practices in combating forces that seek to divide us or undermine our security. We will uniformly state that hurting one of us is hurting all of us, and that will not be tolerated. That is precisely the spirit of unity that came across on the night of the Norfolk vs. Delaware matchup, and the unity that must continue regardless of where we are or who is watching.
At the approaching dawn of the 20th century, the grand debate about the uplift of Black people in America featured conflict between the perspectives of Booker T. Washington, the founder of the Tuskegee Institute and former advisor to both Presidents Theodore Roosevelt and William Taft, and the famed sociologist Dr. W.E.B. Du Bois, a graduate of Fisk University and the first Black man to earn a doctorate from Harvard. Their strategies seemed opposed.
Booker T. thought that independent technical and vocational training, separate and apart from the uninviting American power structure, was the best way for Black people to grow, build, and have their own—an equal measure of financial and social value, cultural pride and personal integrity to that of their White counterparts. Du Bois, on the other hand, believed that Black Americans should demand access and equity within the American power structure, including scholarship and white-collar work, driven by the unrelenting pursuit of true opportunity at all costs. And that pursuit, he believed, should be led by an educated Black American citizenry who understood the assignment for themselves and their people.
On Oct. 30, both Booker T. and Du Bois would have been at the game, sitting next to each other, cheering loudly and proudly at Lincoln Financial Field, likely debating the tactics but not the outcome (and we don’t mean the football game).
This moment is ours, a faithful community of people representing generations of “fourth and long,” miracle plays and living, learning to fight another day – for ourselves, our communities and each other.
The opinions expressed in this commentary are those of the writer and not necessarily those of the AFRO.