If you’ve ever wanted to know what it feels like to live inside an episode of A Different World, that’s exactly what HBCU Week gave me.
As a proud Howard University alum, it was more than nostalgia — it was affirmation. It reminded me why HBCUs remain essential and why spaces like these have to be protected, especially now.
In a climate where corporate partnerships with diverse brands are shrinking, DEI initiatives are being quietly phased out, and over 300,000 Black women have been left jobless, HBCU Week felt like something we haven’t had enough of lately — a safe space. A space where Blackness wasn’t just welcomed, it was celebrated.
Throughout the week, the HBCU Week Foundation turned Wilmington into a living, breathing showcase of legacy, opportunity, and joy. There was music, mentorship, and movement — literally. From a soulful Gospel Brunch that set the tone for community and faith, to the annual college fair that continues to change lives in real time.
Thousands of high school students filled that room — some probably unsure of what to expect, but leaving with scholarship offers, acceptance letters, and a new sense of possibility. Last year, HBCU Week helped students secure nearly $23 million in scholarships. And watching those same opportunities unfold again this year was a reminder that HBCUs aren’t just a chapter of history — they’re still writing the future.
The week also launched its first-ever Arts & Entertainment Scholarship, created in partnership with Heather Lowry of Femme It Forward — offering $40,000 and year-round mentorship to HBCU students pursuing careers in the creative space. For a generation of storytellers, dreamers, and doers, that’s the kind of pipeline that changes what access looks like.
And while it was filled with concerts, celebrity guests, and cultural moments — with people like Gail Bean, Lance Gross, and K. Michelle showing up for the cause — what I loved most was how it all came back to purpose.
HBCU Week reminded me that while representation is important, investment is transformative. And this was investment — in our youth, in our schools, in our culture.
At a time when our contributions are often minimized and our identities are politicized, HBCU Week gave us space to breathe. It was Black joy in full bloom — the kind that refuels you, reaffirms you, and reminds you that community is still our superpower.
Because when we pour into our own, the return is generational.