I loved attending an HBCU, but now I'm still struggling with student loan debt 20 years later. I don't want the same for my kids.
The author graduated from an HBCU. Courtesy of Chantel Henry Since I was a kid, I wanted to attend a HBCU, so I applied to Clark Atlanta University. I loved being around other Black students and professionals, but I was racking up debt. The school set me up for success, but I don't want my kids to attend a HBCU. Since I was 11, I dreamed of attending a historically Black college or university. That dream started at Morgan State University in Baltimore, where I spent two weeks each summer in a program focused on leadership and academics. For a preteen growing up in Baltimore City, Morgan felt like another world. I had seen drug deals outside my front door and heard gunshots while playing hide and seek with friends. My mother refused to let our neighborhood define what I thought was possible for my life. At Morgan, I saw Black students carrying backpacks and briefcases, preparing for careers and building futures. They looked like the life my mother kept telling me I could have. But it's not the life I think my kids need. I applied to one college When college application season came, I applied to one school: Clark Atlanta University. My guidance counselor warned me to give myself more
The author graduated from an HBCU. Courtesy of Chantel Henry Since I was a kid, I wanted to attend a HBCU, so I applied to Clark Atlanta University. I loved being around other Black students and professionals, but I was racking up debt. The school set me up for success, but I don't want my kids to attend a HBCU. Since I was 11, I dreamed of attending a historically Black college or university. That dream started at Morgan State University in Baltimore, where I spent two weeks each summer in a program focused on leadership and academics. For a preteen growing up in Baltimore City, Morgan felt like another world. I had seen drug deals outside my front door and heard gunshots while playing hide and seek with friends. My mother refused to let our neighborhood define what I thought was possible for my life. At Morgan, I saw Black students carrying backpacks and briefcases, preparing for careers and building futures. They looked like the life my mother kept telling me I could have. But it's not the life I think my kids need. I applied to one college When college application season came, I applied to one school: Clark Atlanta University. My guidance counselor warned me to give myself more
