The Weekly
Standard / September 27, 2004
Diversity
Dropouts
What we
can learn from historically black colleges.
by mark bauerlein*
Last march, when the
University of Georgia decided to 'revive race in the admissions process, the Atlanta
Journal-Constitution hailed the move as sound education policy.
"Diversity holds rewards for all students," the editors assured their
readers. Set aside talk about remedies for past discrimination and minority
role models in high places. By this rationale, an integrated classroom is
inherently superior to a monoracial one on intellectual grounds. Different
skin colors and the experiences that go with them create a more challenging
discussion, a sharper mix of viewpoints, leading students to broader conceptions
of self and world. Little evidence exists to support the notion, but a Chronicle
of Higher Education survey showed that 90 percent of college faculty believes
it.
The "better learning" argument is worth noting because it
makes racial difference an essential component of learning. The cognitive
development of a student, it declares, is enhanced by encounters with peers of
different skin colors. Pseudo-empirical support comes from "diversity
research," a well-funded field that contrives experiments to show that
kids think more critically when in the presence of other races. This sets
diversity on the same level with strong curricula and quality teachers. Any good
school must have it. In last year's decision on affirmative action, Justice
Sandra Day O'Connor implied a 25-year cutoff for racial preferences. The
"better learning" argument would keep them in perpetuity.
And yet, a mile away from the Journal-Constitution offices sit
two college campuses that squarely contradict such reasoning. Morehouse
College is all-male and Spelman College is all-female, and both are virtually
all-black. In 2003, Spelman reported 1 white and 1 Hispanic student in a
population of 2,121, while Morehouse tallied 4 Asians, 8 His-panics, and 3
whites in a student body of 2,770. The culture, too, is all African American.
Currently on display at Spelman's Museum of Fine Art is an exhibition that
typifies the environment. To commemorate the bicentennial of the Louisiana Purchase,
the curators have mounted a show not on Jefferson, Napoleon, or the frontier,
but on the position of white and black women in 18th-century New Orleans.
Presidents Walter E. Massey of Morehouse and Beverly Daniel Tatum of
Spelman realize the unusual position of historically black colleges in the
diversity debate. Both have enjoyed successful careers in predominately white
worlds. A Morehouse graduate (1958), Massey has been a professor of physics at
Brown University, president of the American Association for the Advancement of
Science, and director of the National Science Foundation. When he came to
Morehouse, many considered his move a withdrawal from the center of scientific
inquiry. Taturn is a psychologist and author of "Why Are All the Black
Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria?" and Other Conversations about
Race. Before joining Spelman in 2002, she was
the acting president of Mt. Holyoke College. In July, she told me that
colleagues wondered why she chose to leave the white campuses she'd lived in
her whole life.
It's true – historically black colleges lie below the radar of most
educators. Discussions of affirmative action focus on Ivy League institutions
and major state universities, and advocates see race preferences as a tool for
social progress. Historically black colleges recall the days of segregation,
when they were the only option for students of color. Now, they compete with
race-based admissions at other schools, whose officers regard the pursuit of
African-American students as a quest. Moreover, the "better learning"
argument makes any monora-cial campus intellectually suspect. In the
affirmative action case, when Justice Clarence Thomas asked if diversity
arguments apply to historically black colleges, Michigan's counsel John Payton
replied, "I believe most every single one of them do have diverse student
bodies," and the subject was dropped.
Massey and Tatum think their institutions play a special role in higher
education precisely because of their un-diverse racial makeup. Morehouse
attracts many black students who've spent their lives as minority figures,
often as the only student of color in high school honors classes. They arrive
on campus somewhat complacent about their own talents, President Massey says,
but, amidst a group of other high-performing black freshmen, the attitude
dissipates, competition heats up, and students work harder. At Spelman,
President Tatum observes, high school seniors from all over the country apply
to escape from the double pressures of being black and female. They come to
school feeling alienated and find others of similar experience, the commonality
opening them up to the rigors of higher learning. In both cases, an all-black
environment relieves the racial identity of the youth. There is no tokenism to
complicate their achievement, no condescension to cover over their needs.
Students have flexibility in raising and lowering their race consciousness, and
freedom to pursue non-race-related subjects.
Diversity proponents worry that a monoracial college experience
estranges students from those of other races. Do four years at an all-black
institution leave students with a separatist outlook? Not at all, observes
President Massey. In fact, it is the tokenism of their high school years that
sparks racial tensions, and that Morehouse and Spelman are able to dispel.
Besides, Massey and Tatum repeat, their colleges have abundant diversity of
other kinds – religious, economic, regional – and President Tatum rightly
allows the principle to other schools: "Even in an all-white classroom we
can have a diverse environment." Massey insists that while diversity of
individuals is a benefit, "we also need a diversity of institutions."
At other universities, though, racial difference eclipses all others. Long after California voters banned race criteria in 1996, the former Berkeley admissions director wrote, "The aftershocks from that tumultuous, wrenching, and painful period are still reverberating today." One can hardly imagine the same response to losing regional or religious criteria. More important, according to the logic of diversity, a campus that is racially uniform shortchanges its students. A profound kind of learning must be missing. Again, evidence from Morehouse and Spelman belies the premise. Alma mater of Martin Luther King Jr., Maynard Jackson, and Spike Lee, Morehouse cultivates an ethic of study and attainment. In 2003, the Wall Street Journal ranked More-house 29th in a poll measuring colleges by how many of their students enter top professional programs. The ranking is remarkable given that Morehouse's endowment of $90 million is dwarfed by the billion-dollar endowments of similarly ranked schools. Spelman, whose alumni include Alice Walker and whose donors include Bill Cosby, is listed as "very difficult" in undergraduate admissions, its selectivity exceeding Smith College, Mt. Holyoke, and Bryn Mawr.
Both schools have shortcomings, to be sure, but they are working against
a steamroller in higher education that seeks racial diversity in all things.
But you won't hear diver-siphiles whisper a word of criticism against them. If
pressed, diver-siphiles reason that because African Americans live in a white
culture, they don't need classroom diversity as much as whites do. But that's
not how the "better learning" argument works. Applied to historically
black colleges, it says that a "critical mass" of whites is necessary
to better education of blacks.
That's the kind of population engineering that takes
place in the admissions offices of elite schools. Adapting it to historically
black colleges reveals just how manipulative and ideological it is. Massey and
Tatum have better things to do, such as developing a Morehouse/Georgia Tech
engineering program and overseeing Spelman's Center for Scientific Applications
of Mathematics. Their example poses a disquieting paradox for diversiphiles:
Spelman and Morehouse students do as well as students at richer and more diverse
institutions, and their leaders offer a more nuanced understanding of diversity
and less anxious absorption in race than do the multiculturalist promoters at
the flagship institutions of higher education.
Do four
ó ears
at an all-black institution leave students with a separatist outlook? Not at
all In fact, it is the tokenism of their high school years that sparks racial
tensions.