Monday, Mar. 20, 1989

Black by Popular Demand

By Susan Tifft

As a Yale undergraduate, George Bush headed the local drive for the United Negro College Fund, a consortium that then represented 32 private black schools. Last week, as Bush delivered the keynote speech at the fund's 45th- anniversary dinner in Manhattan, and it was clear his ardor had not waned. "Then as now," said the President, "the U.N.C.F.") insists that excellence become a way of life."

Bush's remarks come at a time of renaissance for the nation's 117 historically black colleges. During the 1970s, many of the best black students deserted such institutions for Ivy League schools. Today, spurred in part by racist outbreaks on predominantly white campuses, African-American students are rediscovering the nurturing atmosphere and pride in a shared heritage that made black campuses attractive to their parents' generation.

Two-thirds of the 42 schools currently represented by the U.N.C.F. have seen an increase in enrollment this academic year. At many colleges, applications far outnumber openings. Last spring Virginia's Hampton University received 8,300 applications for 900 places, making the school as popular as Dartmouth. Says U.N.C.F. President Christopher Edley Sr.: "Black students are coming back home."

A major factor behind this shift is cost. On average, private black colleges charge only about half the tuition levied by similar white schools. As student aid has been slashed, that has made a difference to college-bound blacks, most of whom require some form of assistance.

But economics is only part of the story. For many African Americans, black colleges promise a level of academic and social support that mostly white campuses cannot match. "Psychologically, a black student is going to feel better about himself at a black college," says Barry Beckham, editor of The Black Student's Guide to Colleges. At schools such as Dillard, Fisk, Morehouse and Howard, black students say they feel a surge of self-esteem directly traceable to the experience of being the majority race on campus.

Black colleges are also more likely to provide vital encouragement to marginal students. Sulayman Clark, 35, was on the verge of dropping out of mostly white Temple University when he transferred to 152-year-old Cheyney University in Cheyney, Pa. Bolstered by attentive professors, he not only graduated but went on to earn a Ph.D. from Harvard. "If Cheyney did not exist, my career would have been over," he says.

Like their white counterparts, black-colleges have become savvy promoters, competing aggressively for students and philanthropic dollars. Gone are the days when black-college presidents enjoyed a near monopoly on black-college hopefuls. Today they are more inclined to run their schools like a business, placing corporate brass on their boards and going head to head with Brown, Duke and other top schools for the most promising black youths.

The new vitality of black colleges is reflected in their coffers as often as it is in their classrooms. Ten years ago, only seven black colleges had endowments of more than $5 million; by 1986, 19 had reached that level. Such schools are getting mixed messages from Washington. In his 1990 budget, Bush proposed $10 million in matching grants for gifts made to enrich the endowments of black colleges. At the same time he warned Congress that federal student aid might have to be cut further to whittle the deficit.

Consequently, black schools have had to address one of their oldest financial weaknesses: small and infrequent alumni donations. In November, when Bill and Camille Cosby made a $20 million gift to Spelman College, the event received widespread publicity; yet modest donations have been the norm. That shows signs of changing, however. During the past fiscal year, alumni support at Alabama's Tuskegee Institute topped $1 million for the first time, aided by three gifts of $125,000 or more.

Despite such advances, the future remains clouded for many black colleges. - In 1987, 17 of the U.N.C.F.'s members were in the red. Last summer Dallas' Bishop College went under after a long struggle with bankruptcy. Worse still, the overall percentage of African Americans going to college has been declining for almost a decade, shrinking the pool of potential applicants to black schools.

Such worries seem far away to Angela Addison, a black senior at the selective Alabama School of Fine Arts in Birmingham, a high school where African Americans are in the minority. Addison could go on to almost any of the nation's top-ranked colleges, but she is convinced that Hampton will provide the right environment. "I want to go someplace different," she explains. "I want to go to a prestigious black college." So, it seems, do many others.

With reporting by Priscilla Painton/New York and Don Winbush/Atlanta