The Affect and Effect of HBCUs

Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs) don’t just shape what students achieve—they shape how they feel, who they become, and how they move through the world. Their impact is both powerful and deeply personal. It shows up in the confidence students build internally and the opportunities they step into externally. Long before a degree is framed or a job is secured, something deeper is taking place: identity is affirmed, purpose is clarified, and a foundation is laid for what comes next.

Before I set foot on the campus of the nation’s oldest degree-granting HBCU, Lincoln University of Pennsylvania, in the fall of 1985, I wasn’t fully aware of the depth of history and legacy these institutions carried. I knew pieces of the story. My mother attended Stowe Teachers College in St. Louis before moving to Los Angeles, and she often spoke fondly of how that experience prepared her for a career in education. On my father’s side, I had two cousins—sisters—one who attended Howard University and the other Fisk University.

I also knew of James “Shack” Harris, the trailblazing quarterback from Grambling State University who went on to play for the Los Angeles Rams. My father frequently talked about the legendary Coach Eddie Robinson of Grambling and his astonishing record as the winningest coach in college football at the time. As a high school baseball pitcher at the storied Crenshaw High School, my teammates spoke proudly of an HBCU standout who had gone on to professional baseball—Dennis “Oil Can” Boyd of Jackson State University. And of course, there was Walter Payton, the iconic running back from Jackson State, forever enshrined in the Pro Football Hall of Fame.

My parents also made sure we stayed informed about the world. In our home, the presence of Black journalists mattered. Ed Bradley of 60 Minutes, a graduate of Cheyney University, commanded attention every time his segment aired. Later, the incomparable Max Robinson—an alumnus of Virginia Union University—became a nightly fixture on ABC News. In fact, from 6:30 to 7:00 p.m., Max Robinson was the only reason my mother would change the channel from Walter Cronkite.

Coming from a strong family-centered household, my parents wanted that same sense of care and connection to extend into my undergraduate experience. That’s why they chose Lincoln University for me. While small in size, Lincoln was—and remains—immense in its ability to function as a true community. The HBCU experience creates an immediate sense of belonging. Students who look like you—whether they’re from New York, New Jersey, Philadelphia, D.C., or Baltimore—feel like extensions of your own family.

On campus, older adults often served as “dorm mothers” for young women or as trusted uncle-like figures and big brothers for young men. That sense of care is reinforced through cultural affirmations found in homecomings, graduations, and Greek life—cornerstones of the HBCU experience. HBCUs also offer culturally relevant curricula that center Black experiences, strong faculty mentorship, vibrant arts like jazz and spoken word, and a deep commitment to community service. Together, these elements create a nurturing environment where Black identity, history, and success are celebrated beyond the classroom.

One of the most enduring gifts HBCUs provide is pride—pride in your institution, your classmates, and the alumni who came before you. Lincoln University is no exception. Friendly debates—sometimes heated—about which school produced the most notable alumni are almost a rite of passage. Those moments, often delivered through playful rounds of the “dozens,” speak volumes about the pride embedded in the HBCU culture.

That pride also shows up in the paraphernalia. A close friend once told me he would wear his university apparel to Philadelphia’s 30th Street Train Station during winter break. He’d sit on the wooden benches, waiting for fellow HBCU students to arrive home. As they stepped off the train and up the escalator, he struck up conversations, collecting phone numbers and making connections. He spoke about how unmistakable the pride was—in their posture, their conversations, and even in the way they defended their schools when gentle teasing arose.

Being seen, supported, and represented is central to the affect of HBCUs. Since their inception in 1837, these institutions have fostered environments where education is deeply valued and collectively protected. At HBCUs, the student–professor relationship extends well beyond classroom walls, and peer-to-peer encouragement carries significant weight. Sharing cultural backgrounds enhances academic growth, personal development, and social-emotional learning. This emotional impact reveals itself in the deep loyalty students and alumni feel toward one another and toward their institutions.

Beyond affect, the effects of HBCUs are measurable and far-reaching. Enrollment at HBCUs has risen in recent years, with the National Center for Education Statistics reporting a 7% increase between 2020 and 2023. In the wake of the Supreme Court’s decisions affecting affirmative action, interest in HBCUs has surged, underscoring their continued relevance in a shifting educational landscape.

Graduation rates vary across HBCUs, with institutions like Spelman College and Howard University leading in four-year completion rates. Despite ongoing challenges such as financial barriers and major changes, Black students at HBCUs are still more likely to graduate than their peers at non-HBCU institutions.

The economic impact is equally compelling. Although HBCUs educate roughly 3% of U.S. college students, they produce about 16% of all Black graduates and 18% of Black STEM graduates nationwide. A landmark UNCF report estimates that HBCUs generate $16.5 billion in annual economic impact and support more than 136,000 jobs each year. That same report projects that HBCU graduates will collectively earn $146 billion over their lifetimes.

Alumni networks further amplify this success. Rooted in a “lifting as we climb” ethos, HBCU graduates benefit from close-knit communities that offer mentorship, internships, and career opportunities. Platforms such as HBCU Connect and The HBCU Career Center, along with active alumni chapters across the country, continue to bridge opportunity gaps and propel graduates into leadership roles across industries.

The story of HBCUs is one of both heart and impact—of affect and effect. From my family’s experiences at institutions like Stowe Teachers College, Howard, and Fisk, to my own formative years at Lincoln University of Pennsylvania, HBCUs have consistently shaped lives in ways that transcend statistics. They build confidence, affirm identity, and create pathways to opportunity. Lincoln didn’t just prepare me academically; it surrounded me with a community that felt like family and instilled a pride that still lives within me. That is the enduring power of HBCUs—not just in what they produce, but in who they help us become.