No band, no sound: is this the HBCU story? - Last Word

Black Issues in Higher Education, July 3, 2003 by Walter M. Kimbrough

I was excited when the movie "Drumline" was released. This movie was a celebration of historically Black colleges and universities, marching bands and African American culture. I was tickled to see some of my students who tilled in as extras in the movie. I also loved the scenes of actual HBCU marching bands competing along with the fictional Atlanta A&T. The most prominent of these schools was Morris Brown College.

Morris Brown has special meaning to me. I grew up in Atlanta and have relatives who attended the school. Hearing my father's stories about Morris Brown, and noting his sense of pride caused me to appreciate how this institution helped mold a boy from the Summerhill area of Atlanta into the pastor of a large church in Atlanta. He is the HBCU story.

In what should have been a high point in the history of the institution, I sat there pondering its fate. By the time "Drumline" was released, Morris Brown was losing its accreditation. In April, the appeal of the lost accreditation was denied, giving what might well become a death sentence to an institution funded in 1881 by African Americans.

In the few months since the school lost its accreditation, I have been disappointed at the lack of energy and thought given to preventing this fate for other HBCUs. In the last 25 years, over a dozen HBCUs have closed. Even now, about 15 percent of HBCUs are on either warning or probation with their accrediting agencies.

Clearly, historically Black colleges and universities are in a crisis. These figures suggest that if changes are not made in the very near future, the list of dead schools will continue to grow. Immediate action can be taken to improve the fate of HBCUs, but it will require us to stop doing what is comfortable, what we have always done, and do what is right.

The quality of leadership at HBCUs must improve. The revolving door of presidents at Morris Brown, accompanied by nonexistent oversight, certainly led to its demise. At a time when HBCUs need to be more aggressive, they have become more timid and conservative. The recent recycling of presidents shows no foresight for the future. HBCUs must return to an era of higher education when young persons with energy and vision were selected to lead. Booker T. Washington was 25 when he opened Tuskegee, and young men were the first Black presidents at Howard (Mordecai Johnson, 36) and Morehouse (John Hope, 38). This history should be repeated.

We must aggressively recruit the best-qualified faculty and staff. It has become easy for us to lament that we are outbidded by better-funded institutions, but what substantive practices have we implemented to go after future stars in higher education? There are those without the HBCU experience who want to serve institutions that have meant much to their families, but they are often overlooked. HBCUs are often left to hire mediocre people who are virtually unemployable at majority institutions.

The final challenge must be issued to alumni. I laugh when I get the call from an alumnus asking to get their child into school, or in a residence hall room, when this person has never contributed to the school. They expect you to continue to drain the school's resources for them with no expectation of reciprocity. This odd sense of entitlement must be challenged.

I recently married a Talladega alum. As I write, there is a special appeal indicating the school urgently needs financial contributions or commitments immediately. Talladega's financial stability will be assessed by SACS (like it was for Morris Brown) based on their fiscal year standing as of June 30, 2003. With Talladega on probation, just like Morris Brown a year ago, this eerie sense of deja vu is worrying.

The time to act has past. Let's save HBCUs.

--Dr Walter M. Kimbrough is vice president for student affairs at Albany State University in Albany Ga.