Table Of Contentthe campus color line
The Campus Color Line
college presidents and
the strug gle for Black freedom
eddie r. cole
prince ton university press
princet on & oxford
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Publicity: Alyssa Sanford, Amy Stewart
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Jacket image: From Sit- Ins: The Student Report, published by the Congress of
Racial Equality, May 1960. Courtesy of the State Archives of Florida
This book has been composed in Arno
Printed on acid- free paper. ∞
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contents
Preface vii
Acknowledgments ix
Introduction 1
1 “This Is a Good Movement”: Black Presidents and
the Dismantling of Segregation 16
2 “We Simply Cannot Operate in Slums”: The University
and Housing Discrimination 70
3 “Segregation Is Immoral”: Race, University Systems,
and Bureaucratic Re sis tance 119
4 “The University Has Become a Pawn”: The Fight for
Autonomy at a Public University 156
5 “The More Violent and Adamant”: Anticipating and
Preventing White Re sis tance 198
6 “The Northern Outpost of Southern Culture”:
Free Speech and Civil Rights 235
7 “A Truly Influential Role”: College Presidents
Develop Affirmative Action Programs 274
Conclusion 312
Bibliography 321
Index 337
v
Preface
The idea for this book is a natu ral extension of my own Black educational
genealogy. I grew up in Boligee, Alabama. It is a small town located in the Ala-
bama Black B elt. There, my parents were school teachers. Each worked more
than thirty years across the Greene and Sumter county school systems. Before
them, my f ather’s parents w ere also rural west Alabama teachers, starting their
careers in one- and two- room school houses. They were also gradua tes of Black
colleges and members of the state’s Black teacher association. Combined, their
careers made clear the role of education in the Black freedom strug gle, and
their lives molded me.
By the time I started formal education, the de jure school segregation that my
parents and grandparents experienced in the Jim Crow South had long been
exchanged for de facto practices. For instance, the all- Black public high school
that I attended in nearby Eutaw, Alabama, was located around the corner from
a smaller, yet defiant, majority-w hite private acade my. The short, slender Wood-
field Ave nue was our color line. That was an accepted norm in the Alabama Black
Belt; however, it sparked my intellectual curiosity about the decisions made by
past educational leaders, and how those choices shaped the pre sent. This book
takes up t hose same questions within the context of higher education.
Today, the debate continues over who should or should not be admitted to
certain colleges and universities. The relationship between expanding urban
campuses and bordering neighborhoods remains contentious. There is still
uncertainty over where hate speech begins and free speech ends. Black stu-
dents are demanding an end to racism on majority-white campuses. Questions
over the legality of affirmative action are entering yet another de cade. And
campus relationships with law enforcement are under renewed scrutiny. All
the while, elected officials regularly resuscitate old questions about Historically
Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs) and the vitality, funding, and gov-
ernance of t hose institutions. Th ese are serious issues. But t hese con temporary
issues have long histories.
Several college presidents are just now, in the twenty- first c entury, acknowl-
edging how their institutions benefited from slavery and, at last, beginning to
make symbolic and practical reparations. This reconciliation has been 175 years
viii Preface
in the making; however, one does not have to go back that far to see how aca-
demic leaders have impacted the strug gle for Black freedom, past or pre sent.
Therefore, if we are just beginning to unspool and make right the injustices
from the mid-1800s, what does that mean for reconciling more recent college
presidents’ decisions?
Perhaps now, more than ever, we need to understand how college presi-
dents have influenced racial policies and practices. This book is being released
amid a global health and racial pandemic that w ill likely permanently change
education, and the accompanying economic uncertainty resulting from this
crisis has, once again, turned our attention to university leaders. The decisions
made by college presidents today will have long- term racial implications, but
we can better examine t hose decisions when we frame them within the history
of their pre de ces sors’ actions for or against racial equity.
In closing this preface, I am reminded of what Frederick Douglass argued
in 1881: “slavery, ignorance, stupidity, servility, poverty, dependence, are unde-
sirable conditions. When these shall cease to be coupled with color, there will
be no color line drawn.” But when shall the twenty- first-century renditions of
those conditions cease? I wrote this book as a challenge to the global citizenry
to critically self- reflect on the ongoing strug gle for Black freedom and how
academic leaders have held, or are holding, the campus color line— a division
that has s haped generations.
Acknowle dgments
This book would not be before you if not for support from countless f amily
members, friends, mentors, former professors, colleagues, conference discus-
sants, and archivists.
My parents— Eddie (formally, I am Eddie II) and Nancy Cole— are the
best. Mom has always been careful and attentive to details, while dad has al-
ways offered big-p icture perspectives on Black life in the United States. What
a much younger me once considered to be insignificant parental character
traits, I have drawn on them to complete this book. Furthermore, my big
sisters— Latryce and Charlene— set a high bar that I am still trying to reach.
Thank you!
My formal introduction to the study of higher education started at Indiana
University (IU). Since then, several IU alumni and past and pre sent faculty
continue to cheer on my career. This includes Shaun R. Harper, Thomas F.
Nelson Laird, Robin Hughes, Megan Palmer, Donald Hossler, Danielle De-
Sawal, Andrea Walton, Nancy Chism, and Vasti Torres. Beyond the IU School
of Education, I had insightful, supportive conversations about my study of
college presidents and the Black Freedom Movement with Valerie Grim,
James Wimbush, Khalil Muhammad, Marvin Sterling, and John Lucaites.
These individuals may not realize the impression they left on me, but I have
always valued their most casual conversations that pushed my thinking. Of
course, there is no IU faculty member who has been more impactful on my
life than Dionne Danns. In more ways than I can articulate, this book is a testa-
ment to her friendship, advice, sharpness, and ongoing support— thank you.
Additionally, I owe a great amount of debt to the people I met as an IU
gradu ate student. Although I had no initial desire to live in Bloomington, it
turned out to be one of the best decisions of my life. I continue to admire and
appreciate Adrian D. Land, Nadrea R. Njoku, Carl Suddler, Cameron J. Harris,
Mahauganee D. Shaw Bonds, and Rubin Pusha III. As my time at IU pro-
gressed, I found unwavering support in Jessica C. Harris, Katherine I. E.
Wheatle, Francisco Ramos, and Brian L. McGowan. I am grateful for each
of you.
