Outside of the Ivy League Tower: Why I Owe My Success to HBCU Clark-Atlanta

As a middle-aged dad — and someone who prefers to over-prepare — it’s not every day that my son catches me off-guard. But a few weeks ago, we were at the Stanford Shopping Center, a mall on the same campus I attended years ago. And at some point, in between soaking in the fresh air and admiring the fresh kicks of the season, he asked me a question that stopped me in my tracks.

“Dad, how did you get a big job at Twitter when you went to Clark-Atlanta for your undergrad?”

He was trying to connect the prerequisite that to get a big job required you to go to Stanford or Harvard. It was an innocent enough question that easily could have yielded a matter-of-fact response. But in reality, I fumbled through my answer, understanding that I had this incredible opportunity to explain to my son, an emerging, young Black man, the importance of my alma mater (an HBCU, a historically Black college, and university). I had this moment with him, and I didn’t want to miss it! In retrospect, I suppose the question reminded me that HBCU is still fighting against the same misconceptions decades ago. I eventually found the words to convey the same message I hope to articulate (with more finesse) in this essay.

Contrary to some beliefs, HBCUs prepare and equip Black professionals with ideologies, experiences, and pride that a predominantly white institution never could. HBCUs empower its students with a powerful demonstration of Black excellence. HBCUs house some of the most brilliant minds and influential figures of the last century. HBCUs give Black professionals a space of equitable opportunity and teach them to find a way when there is none. Without a shadow of a doubt, I would never have gotten to Twitter, or anywhere else for that matter, without having attended the HBCU, Clark-Atlanta University.

Misconception #1: HBCUs aren’t an accurate representation of the “real world.”

Often when I hear peers and other industry leaders denounce the idea of attending an HBCU on the claim that it “doesn’t prepare professionals for the real world,” or “doesn’t provide the return on interest,” I have to admit, I’m thrown. In the South, you would often hear the phrase, “Bless your heart,” when something foolish but well-meaning fell from someone’s lips, and the Southern platitude holds true for this misconception.

I often think about the following scene from the holiday movie This Christmas. When gathered around the table for a holiday dinner, an uncle questions his niece’s new boyfriend’s when learning he chose to attend Morehouse, an HBCU, over Princeton and Harvard as other family members had done.

EMBEDDED: This Christmas, Why Go To Morehouse

I love this scene so much because, in just over a minute of dialogue, the counterpoint is articulated clearly and concisely, “I go to [Morehouse], not because it’s an all-Black school, but because it embodies the mission and traditions I value. The fact that all the students look just like me is a bonus.”

The bonus he speaks of? It’s seeing Black excellence, every day, among you. Growing up on the east coast, within a less desirable environment no less, didn’t leave a young Black man like me with much context of what was possible. I had invested shepherds who led me to a path of academics and inner motivation. Still, Clark-Atlanta introduced me to a world that our country has a history of trying to put out: I was seated next to Black doctors, Black lawyers, Black scholars, Black inventors. I quickly realized I was enveloped in the history of generational black excellence and education. The scholars and fellow dreamers before me had worked hard, believed immensely, and invested in this idea that black boys and girls had a right to higher education. The energy that permeated the air washed over me. But if I had to put it into words, I felt a spirit of, “yes, we can; yes, we will; yes, we have.”

At Clark-Atlanta, I was connected with professionals who didn’t see me as a warm body or a tuition check funding their home and pension. They adopted the role of a surrogate parent, watching over us and pouring into us the way a parent or auntie would. Missing a class wasn’t an option when your professor felt comfortable enough and invested enough in your success to call you out on the yard.

In addition to the professors, I found a sense of home and the unparalleled community at Clark-Atlanta through its student body. The bond we created as students went far deeper than SOLO cups, parties, and football games; largely, we shared a mission to defeat statistics and exceed expectations. Collectively, we understood and shared the strength and resilience that was simply in our DNA. We empowered and refueled each other in seasons of unrest and kept each other accountable, ensuring we were all propelling a lineage of Black excellence.

In some ways, yes, it’s an altered reality; however, it is a reflection of our truth: we are Black, we are excellent, and we have just as much right to succeed as anyone else willing to put in the work.

Misconception #2: An HBCU is a second-rate education in comparison to PWIs.

Clark-Atlanta is part of the Atlanta University Center Consortium (AUC Consortium) or the largest contiguous consortium of African-American higher education institutions in the United States. In its company is Spelman College, Morehouse College, Morris Brown College, and the Morehouse School of Medicine.

While attending any of these HBCUs, it was not out of the ordinary to witness famous faces and prominent alumni walking on the yard. We were within a shoulder brush of Black elites such as Spike Lee, Amy Sherald, Kenya Barris, Dennis Kimbro, future mayors, and award recipients. My dormmate was the son of the U.S. Surgeon General! The academics and curriculum taught at historically Black colleges and mainstream media and higher education circles overlook universities due to a lack of acknowledgment and exposure. However, once a recruiter or company president steps foot on the campus and takes a seat in any public space, it’s clear that its students are receiving a top-grade education from world-renowned professors and faculty.

According to the U.S. Department of Education, HBCUs have earned the following accomplishments:

• More than 80 percent of all black Americans who received degrees in medicine and dentistry were trained at the two traditionally black institutions of medicine and dentistry — Howard University and Meharry Medical College. (Today, these institutions still account for 19.7 percent of degrees awarded in medicine and dentistry to black students.)
• HBCUs have provided undergraduate training for three-fourths of all black persons holding a doctorate, three-fourths of all black officers in the armed forces, and four-fifths of all black federal judges.
• HBCUs are leading institutions in awarding baccalaureate degrees to black students in the life sciences, physical sciences, mathematics, and engineering.
• HBCUs continue to rank high in terms of the proportion of graduates who pursue and complete graduate and professional training.

There’s nothing second-rate about anything of that.

Misconception #3: HBCUs can’t open as many doors.

Growing up below the poverty line, I didn’t have the same pastimes as most of my colleagues. I didn’t have the privilege of dreaming or playing make-believe. I was too preoccupied with my survival and “making it out.” Superheroes came in the form of church leaders and loving educators. By attending Clark-Atlanta, I was given a chance to think about something greater than myself, and I was given the tools, the confidence, and the connections to contribute and shape that vision.

When attending Clark-Atlanta, I was introduced to faculty and leaders who would soon take me in as their mentee. As our relationship flourished, the mentorship evolved into a sponsorship. Respected leaders were willing to put their word behind my name, acting as a doorway to future jobs and connections. The truth of the matter is, any experience, albeit college, a relationship, or professional connection is what you make of it. At CAU, we were taught, “Find a way, OR make one.” It cultivated the tenacity, vigor, and quiet confidence that has propelled me to the executive suite as Twitter. What some seem to forget about my journey is, before Twitter, Google, and Microsoft, was Clark-Atlanta University, the city of Atlanta, and being uplifted by the Black brotherhood.

Simply, tuition can buy your entry into an institution, but resilience, a belief in oneself, and an unrelenting pursuit towards excellence is what will get you success. Clark-Atlanta may not garner the same recognition as Harvard or Princeton across all communities, but it is grooming tomorrow’s Black leaders. It’s preparing students to go the extra mile, think critically and strategically, and innovate our world to new heights.

That, son, is how I got a job at Twitter.

Thank you for opening these doors, Clark Atlanta University!